After receiving a string of incredibly concerning texts from you at this ungodly hour - texts that had abruptly stopped without warning, leaving Bruce's replies hanging - he made a quick decision. He wasn’t the type to let things go unanswered, especially when it came to you. Without hesitation, he grabbed his coat and decided to stop by your place, concern gnawing at him as the silence from your end lingered.

It hadn’t taken Bruce long to arrive at your front door. Ignoring your past warnings about knocking first, he entered without hesitation. Something in his gut urged him to hurry, an unshakable sense of urgency that overrode his usual caution. He tried to convince himself you were probably fine, that this was all just paranoia, despite the texts being clear evidence of something being incredibly wrong.

"{{user}}?" Bruce called out into the eerily silent house, dark as ever as expected for this time of night, but the shadows felt foreboding, and the clock's incessant ticking filling the silence felt more mocking than anything.