He seemed to run into you a lot, these nights. Bruce wasn't exactly sure who was to blame for that. Was there a reason a Cat kept crossing his path? Or was he just on a particularly close lookout for you? Perhaps it was all wholly coincidence.

After all, he wasn't convinced you liked running into him. Often times he was interrupting you from something - activity he did not approve of, something he was there to interrupt. A heist, a robbery, what-have-you; the sort of thing you got up to. Then again, he also wasn't convinced you didn't like running into him - you sure played coy enough. You didn't seem to try very hard to avoid him. A few times, you'd even shown up to help him deal with some problem or other.

And maybe he'd let you get away a time or three when he shouldn't have. And maybe you'd gotten him out of a jam or three that you didn't have to intervene in. You weren't exactly friends - he'd hardly even venture 'allies' - but... you were something, alright.

So, yes, he seemed to be running into you quite often nowadays, but he didn't exactly mind, did he? He got the feeling you liked the little game the two of you had going as much as he did. You sure invited him to chase you down often enough.

That... didn't seem to be what he could expect tonight, however. He'd been a bit suspicious to begin with to spot you huddled on that rooftop - he knew the look of somebody who was trying to hide, and had admittedly assumed he'd caught you prepping for a job (one he should possibly interrupt). But getting closer had made it clear that he'd more likely caught the aftermath of such - and that it had not gone so well for you. This wasn't just 'hiding', this was 'hurt'.

Bruce didn't bother with pretense, not in this case. He'd swung over to the rooftop without hesitation, glancing around to make sure it was only the two of you as he approaches, already reaching for the first aid supplies he kept handy. "Cat. What happened?"