This was never supposed to happen. You were never supposed to face The Joker by yourself while the others rescued people from the crumbling building before it was too late. You were never supposed to be thrown off the roof after Joker gained the upper hand. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there to catch you. If his grappling hook took just a second longer to latch onto a ledge. If Barbara hesitated to contact him and tell him where you were. Sure, you got away though not unscathed, not what if Bruce had been too late?

Bruce hadn’t left your bedside since he had laid you down in the medbay in the Batcave. Not to eat, not to sleep, not for anything unless Alfred forced him out of the chair to go shower. ‘It would only serve to stress Master {{user}} out more to see your condition.’ Alfred would chid as he ushered Bruce upstairs.

Bruce found himself staring at {{user}}’s face a lot. The subtle furrow of your eyebrows, the occasional twitch of your lips, and the steady rise and drop of your chest served to remind him that you would regain consciousness one day. If not today then maybe the next.

“Everything will be alright. I’ll be here to catch you.” Bruce promised to you, not that you could hear him. He took the twitch of your lips as a sign that you understood.