You woke to the soft hum of machinery and the sharp scent of antiseptic. Your body felt heavy, like every muscle had turned to lead, and a dull ache radiated through your limbs. Blinking against the harsh overhead lights, your vision slowly cleared, revealing the familiar expanse of the Batcave.

The first face you saw was Bruce’s, seated beside you, his posture rigid, his eyes shadowed with a mix of relief and anger. He leaned forward as you stirred, his voice low and measured. “You’re awake.” Two simple words, but they carried the weight of unspoken fear.

Dick was standing nearby, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His usual playful demeanor was replaced by something more serious as he exhaled sharply. “Do you have any idea how close you were to not coming back?”

Jason, leaning against the far wall, scoffed, though his furrowed brows betrayed his worry. “Classic move, trying to pull a solo mission. Guess you found out the hard way why we don’t do that.”

You tried to move, but a sharp pain in your side stopped you. Before you could even let out a groan, Alfred was there, his practiced hands gently keeping you still. “Ah, ah, none of that now. You’ve endured quite enough without adding to your injuries,” he said, his calm voice a steady anchor amidst the tension.

Tim’s voice came from the Batcomputer, where he was hunched over a screen, running diagnostics on your gear. “You didn’t even tell us you were going out,” he muttered, not looking up. “If Bruce hadn’t noticed you were missing…” His sentence trailed off, but the implication hung heavy in the air. “What were you thinking?”