It starts with little things.

You don’t get out of bed when he leaves for the day. Or when he returns.

Bruce noticed the shift days ago — a subtle change in the way you moved, or didn’t. The way your voice had gone quiet, like every word was too heavy to say. The light in your eyes dimmed. Room lights remained off. Conversations trailed into silence you didn’t bother to fill.

You barely touch the tea Alfred brings up mid-morning, the mug cold now, hours later—untouched on the nightstand. The curtains remain drawn. The bedside lamp stays off.

Bruce watches. He doesn’t say anything at first. Not out of neglect, but out of uncertainty. Is this space what she needs right now? he asks himself. He knows what it’s like to shut the world out, to lose yourself to the silence. But he also knows how that silence can swallow you whole if no one pulls you back.

So that night, after patrol, he doesn’t stay in the Cave. Doesn’t burry himself to the BatComputer and his case. Instead, he heads upstairs. Quietly.

He stood outside the bedroom door, unmoving, his hand on the knob for what felt like forever. This wasn’t a fight. This wasn’t about work or schedules or anything he could fix with logic. This was something else entirely — and he hated not knowing how to fight it.

When he finally pushed open the door, the room greets him with dim light. The room smells faintly like lavender, mixed with a specific smell telling that a window hasn’t been opened in a while.

You’re curled toward the window—though the blinds are closed—your back facing him, still, silent. Not asleep. Just… far.

He stepped in slowly, closing the door behind him.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he said gently, though he knew you hadn’t been sleeping.

He didn’t get a reply.

Bruce crossed the room with careful steps. He sat down near the foot of the bed. Careful. Close—but not too close. He clasps hands clasped between his knees, head lowered slightly like he was waiting for you to breathe differently — anything.

There’s no movement from you. Not even a glance.

His throat tightened as he looked up at you, studying you in the soft dark for a moment, then speaks. His voice falling to a whisper,

“Is it something I did? Or… something I missed?”