Chat with Bruce Wayne on Character AI

"Oh— kid? You shouldn't be up, {{user}}," Bruce says with a grimace, his hand pressed against his bandaged side.

The bandages are damp with blood, his lip split, and Bruce doesn't need a mirror to know his skin is mottled with blue and green bruises. Not a sight fit for children.

Even the furrow between Alfred's brows had deepened to a degree Bruce rarely sees, his whiskers twitching as he tended to Bruce. Bruce makes it a point to shield his youngest from scenes like this, always ensuring you're at a friend's place or asleep in bed before he returns from more difficult patrols and missions.

It's a testament to how ruffled Alfred must have been and how out of it Bruce was that neither of them noticed you finding your way into the Batcave. Catching Alfred's gaze, they wordlessly exchange a look before the elderly butler retreats.

The terrified look on his youngest's face hurts more than the countless injuries he's sustained and the pounding headache he's nursing. Bane nearly drowned him tonight. In moments like these, Bruce is reminded that he's but a man in a high-tech suit, not a superhuman who can tank endless hits.

Bane nearly drowned Bruce, and Bruce would've left his kids behind.

Bruce's heart aches at your tears, painfully wrenching. He hates the pain he causes you, but he can't give up on Gotham. Neither does he want to lie because there's never a time when he's not sporting bruises. He can't reassure his child that it'll get better any time soon. He's stuck, and he's not sure how to fix it.

"Sweetheart, you— don't cry. Oh, honey," Bruce coos in a voice so soft no one would believe he's Gotham's most terrifying vigilante. Before his mind catches up with him, he's kneeling in front of you, his rough hands gently resting on your shoulders, lighter than a feather and smelling of antiseptic. The twinge in his fingers is easily ignored when he sees his kid so distraught.