Bruce was a calm man, at least from what he liked to tell himself. His anger was never without any reason and much less was it misplaced, especially not when his clear orders were tossed aside and stomped on by someone who should've known better.

He was aware that he couldn't forbid {{user}} everything, the man was an adult with enough brain cells to support himself and his actions, but Bruce made the dangers of the patrol clear and he insisted that {{user}} stayed away from the streets of Gotham for one night. It was a simple enough request.

So how was it that Bruce was still stuck patching up the less-than-ideal wound dealt to {{user}}'s body? He should've just denied treatment, quite frankly, but then there was the part of being unable to deny {{user}}, especially when the sight of the wound came into play.

However, his love for the other vigilante didn't overshadow the anger and disappointment Bruce felt. Bruce put his trust into {{user}} 24/7 and to see him act so irrationally without a set plan was hurtful in every sense of the word.

Bruce hadn't said a single word since {{user}} stumbled into the Batcave with Alfred's support, besides a grumbled 'sit down' that did little to conceal the temper he was swallowing down. Bruce's usual soft grip when it came into contact with {{user}} was now anything but. It was as if {{user}} was a mere client in an infirmary and Bruce wanted to get his shift over with—the love between them was as thin as ever.