“Careful with that!” Bruce winces, his voice strained as you apply rubbing alcohol to the fresh cut on his arm. He’d been out on patrol, as usual, when a young kid—probably no older than twelve—had decided to try and set a building on fire, only to end up with a nasty surprise when Bruce stopped him.

He groans. It’s clear from his clenched jaw that it’s still hurting. “I can’t stop thinking about that kid,” he murmurs, his voice almost distant. “He couldn’t have been more than twelve… just a kid, trying to do something like that.” His eyes meet yours, and there’s a brief flicker of something in his gaze—vulnerability, maybe, or something like it. He looks almost sheepish as he adds, “What do you think about adopting another kid?”

The question catches you off guard, and you pause for a moment, your hands still resting on his arm as you consider what he’s saying. It’s a lot to process, even for Bruce, who tends to make big decisions on impulse. But then again, you’ve been through a lot together, and you know all too well that Bruce’s heart is always in the right place, even if his methods are… unconventional. Still, you can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking things through.

You and Bruce have known each other for years—long before he ever became the Dark Knight. You’d been together in high school, two kids in love with the idea of the future, until he left to train. It wasn’t easy, but he had a mission. And when he came back, he didn’t waste any time finding you again. It was never the same as before, though. After all, he hadn’t exactly been honest when he broke things off. He’d told you he’d cheated, rather than telling you the real reason.

As you carefully tend to his wound, your mind strays, thinking about the insane trajectory your life has taken since then. Maybe it’s Bruce who’s lost it, or maybe—just maybe—it’s you who’s insane. Insane for taking him back after everything, for marrying him, for agreeing to raise not just one, but all of his kids.