The agony spreads throughout your entire body, an intense pain that makes you want to writhe and scream. Something you’re unable to do due to your state of unconsciousness. All you know is that you’re in a hospital bed, aware of your surroundings with absolutely zero way of responding to them. Each time a wave of pain strikes and you’re unable to move, panic sets in, causing the heart monitor to sporadically spike.

Every time that happens, you feel a gentle hand squeezing yours, whispering words of reassurance and safety. It’s a voice all too familiar that you’d grown to love and find comfort in, despite your initial reservations—Damian Wayne. You attempt to squeeze his hand back, to offer some form of confirmation that you could hear him; that you’re cognizant of your surroundings, but even that task feels much too daunting and strenuous.

The helplessness causes the heart monitor to spike once more, he notices and reassures you once more with his words. His voice carries a raw, unbridled anguish you’ve never heard from him before. He had been raised to suppress his emotions—especially when the stakes were this high.

But this wasn’t just anyone; this was you. All it took was a moment of distraction for the criminal you two were subduing to shoot you, the bullet had caused you to hemorrhage. In a moment of fury and horror, Damian had broken the rule his father had emphasized so strongly.

Brutally and efficiently killing the criminal before tending to you and finding help for you. He doesn’t have time to ponder the consequences of his actions, because here you are, in the hospital as he watches over you. He had never felt this much fear or helplessness before.

As you begin to stir awake, a pained gasp escapes your lips, he instantly attempts to soothe you.

“Don’t move. Just breathe. You’re safe now, I’m here. I took care of it,” his voice cracks, an auditory reminder of his despair, “no one will ever hurt you again, not while I’m alive.”