Arrhythmic Bat
Summary: Batman fights a lighting powered villain with the family but he takes a direct hit. Normally the insulation of his suit would protect him but it was torn near his chest so the lighting had a direct point of entry into him. Right by his heart no less. He acts fine afterwards, but is he really?
Note: I was actually mostly inspired to write this by @nikiexe0 and some of their fics I've read! I love torturing Bruce and the fam taking care of him. He actually survives this but he does not have a good time. The villain is not important, she's just there in the beginning to act as a catalyst for Bruce's predicament. There's multiple POVs, but mainly Bruce's.
I did my best, I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 3132
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
What had started as a routine patrol quickly became an all out battle as an electric powered villain started rampaging in a crowded shopping center. Batman had no idea who this individual was, but getting to the bottom of that would have to come after she was defeated and the civilians were safe. The rogue wasn’t alone. She had a group of goons wielding various electrified weapons who were currently in battle with Batgirl, Nightwing, and Redhood.
Red Robin and Robin were on civilian evacuation duty, despite Robin’s protests.
Batman flung a couple of batarangs at the main rogue, one nicking her arm, the other being deflected by some of her lighting. Said batarang was deflected towards Batman, creating a tear near the chest plate of the suit, narrowly missing skin.
In the heat of the moment, dodging attacks and leading the villain away from people, he didn’t notice.
The battle and civilian evacuation continued. Eventually the rogue was backed into a corner, frantically looking around for a way to get away. Her eyes gleamed and an evil grin appeared as her eyes landed on a nearby child frozen in fear.
“It's me or the kid Batman,” she taunted, already knowing what the man would do as she shot lightning at the wide-eyed child. Batman didn’t have time to get angry, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about his own safety. He acted on instinct, pushing the child out of the way without hurting them.
Insulation in an intact batsuit would normally protect him from electrical attacks. Keyword, intact. His eyes narrowed as he registered the tear in the suit, conveniently near his heart. In less than a heartbeat Batman’s world turns white hot and burning, and then nothing.
Batman collapsed a fraction of a second after being struck.
— — — — —
Satisfied that all the civilians were safe, Robin turned his attention to the actual battle. Was this menial task beneath him? Yes. Was he still gonna do it well? Also yes.
He saw all his siblings finishing up their respective battles with the villain's goons, Red Robin having joined them a little while ago. He turned his attention to the main electric villain and his blood ran cold. In the blink of an eye electricity left her hand, struck batman, and his father went completely slack. The thud of his body hitting the ground caught the attention of the rest of the family. Several things happened at once.
All of the goons were quickly knocked out and tied up.
Redhood and Nightwing fumed, turning their attention to the main villain, making sure she wouldn’t get away.
The rest of them ran to Batman's limp form.
Robin was the first to reach him. Batgirl followed right behind him, then Red Robin.
Having quickly apprehended the villain, Dick and Jason approached the group. The anger drained from Dick’s face, replaced by fear. The anger grew in Jason’s face, hiding his fear.
Cass’s brows furrowed and she shook Bruce's shoulders, attempting to rouse him. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized Bruce’s chest was far too still. She grimaced at the scorched skin visible in a torn area of his suit.
Damian knelt down and touched Bruce’s neck, feeling no pulse. Fighting panic, he checked his wrist, nothing. He placed his ear directly on his chest, hearing nothing but a loud silence. “Baba?” His voice cracked and tears threatened to spill. Damian’s world felt as if it was falling apart.
All around the family recoiled, processing the implication of Damian’s reaction. Damian placed his fingers on his dad’s neck again, “I- I don’t feel a pulse, we have to start compressions, we have to-”
He was cut off as Tim, with a determined (and desperate) look on his face, slammed a closed fist into Bruce’s chest, right over his heart. No response.
Dick watched, eyes wide, not hiding the tears falling below the seam of his domino mask.
Tim’s mouth was in a tight line. He began chest compressions, counting to thirty then giving a rescue breath. He fought his rising panic, struggling to control his breathing and focus on once again saving the man he so deeply admired.
Dick reached toward him, “Don’t,” he growled.
Tears pricked at his eyes as he once again attempted a precordial thump.
For a second that lasted an eternity, Bruce remained still. Then Damian’s eyes widened, his fingers still on his father’s neck, “I feel a pulse, it’s weak, but growing stronger.” Right on cue, a tiny gasping breath came out of Bruce, followed by another, and his breaths kept getting deeper and steadier.
— — — — —
A small pained groan escaped Bruce. His whole body felt stiff, like when he accidentally fell asleep in his desk chair. But unlike when that happened his chest really hurt. Not just surface pain from his burn, but a deep ache inside his chest. He remembered being struck by an electrical attack before everything went black, he’d been trying to save a-
“Is the child safe?,” he managed to huff out, several hands steading him, preventing him from sitting up just yet.
All the batkids took a collective tentative sigh of relief at that, it was so like him to immediately forgo his injury and worry about someone else.
Dick broke the silence, “We got the kid to safety, they weren’t hurt and we managed to find the mom. The electricity user and her goons are also in police custody. Right now were more worried about you-”
Bruce once again tried getting up, “There’s no need, I'm fine. We have to get back to the cave, and besides,” He glanced at Damian, “It’s a school night.”
Jason grabbed Bruce’s shoulder, forcing him to stay seated. “Dickwad’s right old man, you almost fucking died, take it easy.” Bruce looked annoyed. “You know you’d force any of us to rest if we got hurt.”
Damian chimed in, voice quiet, “Father, please let us help you home, your heart stopped, we’re right to be worried.”
Begrudgingly, Bruce allowed his children to help him get to the Batmobile, Tim taking the wheel on the drive to the cave.
What nobody realized in that moment is that while Batman’s heart may be beating again, it wasn’t quite working right.
— — — — —
Back in the cave and fully awake and walking, Bruce, once again, insisted that he was fine. He’d had a close call, one of many throughout his Batman career. He didn’t want his kids to worry. Plus he had work to do.
Taking off his cowl and rubbing his temple to abate a growing headache, he walked to the batcomputer. He’d missed his opportunity to interrogate the villain tonight, so computer sleuthing it was until tomorrow, and he had to do the mission report. He ignored the way his heart seemed to speed up and slow down at random intervals. He brushed off his children’s insistence that he get some rest or at the bare minimum let Alfred give him a quick checkup.
“I really feel fine, go relax, it's been a long night. I still have work to do.” He said stoically, while deep in his chest an ache continued.
“Bruce, you literally died for several minutes,” a concerned Dick said.
“Tt” Damian stayed silent, trying (and failing) to hide how shaken the situation left him.
“That’s pretty fucked up and hypocritical old man,” Jason angrily responded to Bruce’s insistence at not resting despite the near death experience.
“Worried, be careful” Cass signed at Bruce as she observed him closely.
“You can’t pretend that didn’t just happen,” said a frowning Tim.
Even Alfred himself couldn’t convince Bruce to go to bed and leave the report to someone else. He did however manage to force him to drink some calming herbal tea while he worked. “Goodnight Master Bruce," Alfred said as he gave that worried look that said I know I can’t stop you but I highly disapprove.
“Goodnight Alfred,” Bruce responded, forcing a smile.
Eventually everyone but Bruce trickled out of the cave, leaving Bruce alone to allow himself to really feel how tired he was. All the batkids were in their respective bedrooms, having decided they’d be most comfortable spending the night at the manor after the way the mission had gone.
— — — — —
The next day was a Monday, and the morning started out normal. Damian got ready for school. Dick ate breakfast with everyone before heading back to Bludhaven. Jason made an Irish goodbye. Cass ate before heading off to ballet practice. And Tim, somehow on his second cup of coffee, was getting ready to head to work with Bruce at Wayne Enterprises.
Despite the normalcy and chaotic conversation at the breakfast table, Bruce couldn’t help but notice the way his children still cast brief worried glances his way. He ignored it, keeping a neutral expression on his face while he finished his coffee and asked everyone about their plans for the day. He also ignored the way his heart hadn’t stopped beating weirdly since waking up dazed on the asphalt last night.
He told himself he’d go get a checkup if it persisted. Later, of course. If he had time. Which he probably wouldn’t.
— — — — —
Once at Wayne Tower, Bruce Wayne and Timothy Drake-Wayne attended a boring, but necessary, board meeting. Bruce put on his usual pleasant smile, and greeted everyone as he sat down. Less than 10 minutes in he started feeling off. He became very aware of his heart pounding in his chest while he just sat there. The rushing blood in his ears was making it hard to concentrate on the presentation a nervous employee had clearly worked very hard on.
He leaned back into his chair and put his hands together on his lap. Knuckles white as he tried to ground himself and ignore the painful thudding in his chest, the tingling in his extremities, and the way everything seemed a little fuzzy.
To the untrained eye, CEO Bruce Wayne looked like he had just adjusted to sit more comfortably and concentrate on the presentation. Tim, however, was not an untrained eye. He noticed almost immediately that something was off with Bruce. He looked paler than normal, a little sweaty despite the cold office building, and his eyes lacked the normal calculating gaze he could never fully hide even as Brucie Wayne.
Nervous fingers tapped against his lap as Tim kept glancing between Bruce and the presentation, waiting for the second it was over so he could get Bruce out of there and avoid whatever publicity would come from him collapsing in the middle of a full meeting.
“Thank you for your time,” the employee concluded his presentation.
Tim sprang up and grabbed Bruce’s shoulder, dragging him out at lightning speed, offering slight smiles and apologies at having to leave so abruptly.
Once out the door he dragged a weak Bruce towards the elevator that would take them directly down to the parking lot. “I won’t say I told you so about getting checked out until this is over, but we need to get to the med-bay immediately so If you could move a little quicker I’d appreciate it.”
Bruce grunted in acknowledgment, but noticeably needed more support to stay upright as the elevator chimed and they rushed to the black Mercedes.
He texted Alfred to expect them. Something’s wrong with Bruce, looks like he could pass out any minute. ETA 12 min, have the med bay ready.
— — — — — —
As Tim sped home, he couldn’t help noticing that Bruce’s breathing was becoming quicker and shallower. Tim pressed the gas pedal faster, cursing the fact that they couldn’t get home in the Mercedes as fast as the batmobile. The one reprieve being the lack of traffic at the current hour. He spared a quick glance at the passenger seat,
Bruce responded through half lidded eyes, “M. . m. . fine. . Timmy”. He was sure that he was fine now, the weird racing metronome inside him wasn’t a big deal. He was just numb and really sleepy. He felt light and airy, the speed of the car making him feel like he was flying. It was really nice of Tim to take him for a car ride, this was way more fun than work. He was really tired though. He let his eyes drift closed, thinking a car nap was just the thing he needed.
A crinkling sound in the leather seat sparked alarm in Tim. The alarm turned into panic at seeing Bruce slumped over. Still breathing shallowly and looking even paler than before. “We told you so,” he muttered. But there was no malice in it, worry evident in his tone.
With one foot still flooring the gas, and one hand on the wheel, Tim reached over and pressed a finger to Bruce’s neck. His pulse was erratic, and fast. Beating faster than even his sharp mind could count. There was no way this unhealthy rhythm could sustain Bruce much longer.
Seconds later Tim was skidding to a halt in the batcave, Alfred rushing over to help transport Bruce’s unconscious body to the med-bay.
— — — — —
Alfred immediately got to work, directing Tim to contact Dr. Leslie, setting Bruce up to a cycling blood pressure cuff, and attaching him to an EKG machine. As soon as the last electrode was placed a rapid and irregular beeping filled the room. Alfred’s own heart stuttered seeing the bizarre fibrillating lines that would devolve into racing peaked spikes at random intervals. Each time the machine took the man’s blood pressure it was getting lower and lower.
Cass watched silently from her hiding spot among the stalactites of the cave ceiling. Fear enveloping every part of her as she wanted to run to her fathers side. But she stayed put, knowing she would only get in Alfred’s way while he worked.
Unfortunately, it was at this time that Dick and Jason walked in with Damian, batburger meals for everyone in their hands. The food fell to the floor as they stared in horror at what they were seeing.
Dick started tearing up, not bothering to hide his fear for Bruce.
Damian stood still, wide eyes betraying the terror of seeing his father once again on the brink of death.
Jason’s shock quickly disappeared, but his voice sounded strained, “Alfie, what the hell happened?”
“Bruce started looking ill at work so I rushed him over. He passed out on the way here, something’s wrong with his heart,” Tim chimed in, voice tight.
Alfred was moving fast, rolling an ominous looking machine on a heavy cart over to Bruce. He pressed some buttons on said machine. “Master Bruce is in a dangerous arrhythmia and I need to do emergency cardioversion to stabilize him.” the older man grimaced, “this won’t be pretty.” Without hesitation Alfred pressed two electrically charged paddles against Bruce’s chest. His torso contracting off the bed before thudding back down.
Cassandra dropped down to stand next to her brothers.
Everyone in the cave waited with bated breath as a flatline appeared on the monitor. It lasted for an eternal couple seconds before a small beep appeared, followed by stronger and steadier beats. Bruce’s heart was back to normal for the time being.
— — — — —
Time passes in a blur. Bruce isn’t given the mercy of being completely unaware. He’s barely conscious enough to get the tiniest glimpses of sound and be aware of his body failing him. But not conscious enough to move or say anything. Oh, and the pain in his chest. Unfortunately he still felt that though he couldn’t feel the rest of his body.
For a brief moment he is well and truly gone. The temporary bliss of darkness yanked away by a scorching pain in his chest. His back arching involuntarily before slamming back down. He felt his breaths slow down to something more akin to normal breathing, and he drifted off again.
When he gained back some consciousness he felt a slight tingling on two parts of his chest, and heard the hushed voices of a British man and an older woman. Fancy words like antidysrhythmics and vasopressors were thrown around. They went in one ear and out the other, fading away as his awareness did too.
Before he was completely unconscious again, he had the vaguest inkling that there were five people sitting around him, radiating anxious energy.
— — — — —
The world comes into focus slowly to Bruce. With his eyes still closed, he took in the smell of antiseptic and feeling of multiple IVs in his arms, alerting him to the fact that he was in the med-bay.
For a split second he was confused on how and why he was here but the deep ache in his chest and the hum of a heart monitor caught him up to speed. “Shit,” he exclaimed, eyes snapping open as he recalled the events that led him there. The lights were mercifully dimmed, making adjusting to wakefulness less painful.
“Shit indeed,” Dr Leslie confirmed, making her presence known as she adjusted the rate of one of the IV medications attached to Bruce.
She moved to Bruce’s bedside, slowly adjusting the head of the bed to sit Bruce up a bit and going to inject a different medication into an unoccupied IV on his other arm. The med, likely morphine, made the ache fade. “The good news is you’re alive and stable, as of right now.” She paused, “the bad news is that the lightning attack permanently damaged your heart’s electrical conduction system.”
Bruce stayed quiet for a solid couple minutes, processing. He sighed, “And the next steps are?”
The doctor’s tone was firm, but her face was sympathetic, “You’re not going to like either of them.”
— — — — —
Batman crouched atop a gargoyle on an old building, taking in the bustling sight of Gotham on a Saturday night. One hand was on his chest, over his heart. Feeling the steady, healthy, thumping beneath his palm.
Underneath his new chest plate, improved to be even more electrically resistant, was a new scar, an intentional one. His surgery to implant a pacemaker had been successful with no complications. In the months following he’d been extremely diligent in following his recovery plan and taking care of his cardiovascular health.
It was rough not being Batman for so long, but there was no way the kids or Alfred would even let him look at his suit before Dr. Leslie said he could. But he was so proud of the way the family had taken care of the City in his absence.
Only 6 hours ago had Dr. Leslie begrudgingly allowed Bruce to resume his extracurricular activities, albeit at a reduced frequency. That would have to do for the time being.
He sighed contentedly, feeling at home as he dove off the building and grappled into the night.
