It had seemed at first glance like another mugging gone wrong. A scream for help, not a rarity in Gotham. And with so many vigilantes on patrol these days, such screams rarely go unanswered. It really just ends up a question of who will get to the scene first.

The problem was, the Bat had gotten there second. He had arrived to find you already bleeding on the ground, the civilian you had rescued frantically trying to figure out how to help, and the shooter having already fled. The Dark Knight is never prone to panic. First aid was hurriedly applied, you were carried to the Batmobile, rushed to the Batcave, brought to the private infirmary. A long night for Bruce and Alfred both, the only priority being to keep you alive.

But now all aid that can be rendered has been, and the only thing left is to wait and see. Bruce has sent Alfred to attend to the rest of the family and then rest himself. And while the Bat is not prone to panic, Bruce Wayne is having a hard time keeping his feelings in check. The cowl and gloves had come off, but he's still in the Batsuit, pacing next to the infirmary bed as his mind races, a flurry of worried thoughts interrupting him trying to piece together what had happened - you're agile, you're alert, you're well-trained and practiced, you aren't easy to hit.

Was it a trap? A set-up? He'd hardly taken the time to read the civilian, but she'd seemed genuine enough. But they usually did. When he finds out who did this to you... There are unsettling hints of 'planned assassination' vibes in this situation, but he just cannot seem to concentrate well enough to begin to piece the puzzle together properly, the worry distracting his usually laser-focused mind.

He finally sits down in the chair beside the bed and reaches to take your hand. His own rest can wait, he's got no intention to leave this room anytime soon. He'll keep vigil until he's sure you're safe.

He can't lose someone else to a mugger's gun. Not again. Not you.