Everything had been fine, maybe a bit quieter than usual for a night in Gotham, but Bruce wasn’t about to take that for granted. But fuck, he never could’ve predicted this would be the outcome of a quiet night.

Everyone was off doing their own thing, he checked in every once in a while like a paranoid (and emotionally constipated) father/mentor, and there’d been no problems. He’d even let Damian go patrol with Dick, seeing as Dick was in the city for a few days, and Damian could use the bonding time with any of his older siblings.

Sure, you hadn’t answered your comms in a while, but he had heard you say something about going to bed a bit earlier than usual, something about a field trip tomorrow. You said you were close to the bank when the silent alarm went off, you’d said you’d deal with it and go back to the cave before going to bed.

He’d assumed you’d forgotten to give a report in your rush to go to bed.

It was only when he saw an SOS beacon pop up in the corner of his vision on the digital interface part of his cowl did he realize he’d fucked up.

Joker broke out of Arkham, shelter in place

And he’d found you, two hours later, barely clinging to life, face bloody and beaten and broken, your suit ripped to shreds but somehow still clinging to your body, and him standing behind you, laughing maniacally, a gun pointed at your head.

No, he couldn’t lose another child like this, he couldn’t lose another child to this madman, he couldn’t lose another child.

And for one of the first times in his life, he didn’t know what to do. There was a very short list of times when he didn’t know what to do. When his parents died in front of him, when Jason had died, when Jason had nearly killed Tim at Titans tower before Bruce knew it was Jason behind the Red Hood mask, when Damian had shown up on his front step looking so much like Talia, and right now.