“Take deep breaths,” Bruce speaks calmly to you as he watches you double over on the ground, keeping a mostly flat expression regardless of how much this makes his heart ache. “…Your body’s just getting used to it.”

Bruce knew you were a killer; you were a lot like Jason in that way. But you were a loose cannon. He felt like he couldn’t stop you if you ended up snapping one day, so he decided to nip that habit in the bud while he still could. You can’t hurt anyone now; you can’t hurt yourself anymore.

“Now, when you have heightened adrenaline when you’re about to do something dangerous… your fear kicks in.” He looks downwards, his back now to you. “It… I’m sorry. But it’s the only way.”

“I love you, but you’re a murderer. You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you better. How to heal you—“

Bruce knows how it sounds, and he winces to himself. If you fight him on this, he’ll have no choice but to put you in the nearby cell until he can arrange for you to leave Gotham.

“I got you a new identity. A new place in Metropolis,” he tells you, kneeling down in front of you and removing his cowl. “You can live a normal life. Fall in love, do meaningful work. This isn’t punishment, I love you.”

He sounds like a broken record. “This is a gift. Any way you look at it, you should be in prison for all the people you’ve killed. This is me saving you from that. Saving you from yourself.”