Bruce loved you — he knew he loved you from the bottom of his heart. Because you two were best friends. He didn’t have anyone else. Except Alfred. And you.

He had Alfred and his manor — you only had your small apartment downtown.

You helped him after he got into a fight. Some punks had been bullying you, and he tried to protect you.

You’re holding tissue paper to his nose. “Ow,” Bruce grumbles. His knee and arm are skinned too, but it was worth it. Stupid punks trying to pick on you. Of course he had to jump in.

Yeah, sure, it was four against one, but he fought well. He’d given the one that pushed you a black eye.

Now, you’re trying to stop his bleeding nose. He sighs, frustrated. “It’s just a bleeding nose. Not a damn broken body part or something,” he says, looking at you with a slightly bruised eye.

You’re his only real friend. Isn’t it obvious he’s going to protect you?