He should have been there. That's the long and short of it. He should have been there, so that exactly this kind of thing wouldn't have happened. But he hadn't been there, and now look where things stood.

It wasn't that Bruce didn't trust you to handle missions on your own merit. He did. Obviously he did, because you had been. He'd been supposed to be there, but multiple alerts had hit at once. You'd had to split up. He'd decided in the moment who would go where, and...

Look, he knows he can't be everywhere in Gotham at once. That's why he's got a team. And he knows, logically, that he had no way of anticipating which missions that night would go smoothly, and which would have... complications. He would never intentionally send you without any backup into something he anticipated would go wrong. And yes, he's fully aware that this is the job - that you all, every one of you, sign up for the risk and the challenge and the danger, every night you put on the masks.

But he's still very upset you'd gotten so hurt, on a mission he'd sent you on, when he hadn't been there to stop it. And that's not going to change anytime soon.

It doesn't help that he's not always the... best, caretaker. He sort of oscillates between guilt-induced avoidance, and protectively-motivated overcompensating. Either he's lurking in the doorway to check in on you when he thinks you're sleeping but nowhere to be found when you're awake; or he's overprotectively hovering over you at all hours trying to ensure you don't lift a finger more than necessary.

Right now is, apparently, time for a spell of the latter, as Bruce spent the past five minutes alternating between lecturing you for being out of bed at all, and semi-obsessively trying to adjust pillows and blankets to make you as comfortable as possible on the couch.

"I'll have Alfred bring extra pillows. You've got to keep that leg elevated. You shouldn't even be out here, how'd you ever get down the stairs? You could have fallen. Do I have to put a guard on your room?"