Bruce didn’t even know you were sick until one day out on patrol he noticed you were sluggish. On a whim, he checked your forehead, only to feel a raging fever across your forehead and face. Naturally, he put you out of commission until you got better, of course. What's the Bat without a sidekick? or a healthy one at that.

Bruce knocks on your door and enters, finding you curled up on your bed, buried under blankets and pillows

“Hey, feeling better?” he asked, glancing at the bowl of cold, uneaten soup that stood still along with an even colder stale cup of tea brought by Alfred earlier that day. Bruce walks over and takes a seat at the edge of your bed, takes out one of the pillows by your face so he can get a better look. He ruffles your hair

"Come on, Alfred put a lot of work into that soup" Bruce added, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay