A Walk Home (Bruce Wayne x Reader)
Request from: @grumpycheshirecat Prompt: “Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine when I slipped on your blood walking in here!” Warnings: Blood, mentioning of blood loss, concussion, injuries, and angst? A/N: When I first saw this quote, I was gonna make it a funny one, like “pshhh, I’m not hurt, whatever lol, it’s just a flesh wound,” but then it turned into this serious-ish thing.
He should have known it was a bad idea to have not cleaned himself up at least a little bit; he’s the world’s greatest detective for god’s sake. Then again, the blood loss made thinking difficult- more difficult than when he’d previously lost a fair amount of blood, which may be something one should worry about, but the Batman isn’t going to be taken out so easily. That’s what he tells himself, at least, whilst seemingly tripping on air and clinging tightly to the wall.
His mind is swirling wildly, and it takes him 30 seconds to become confused as to what happened and another 30 seconds to have the memories flood his mind. Well, most of the memories. He remembers being on patrol, fighting enemies- was it Two-Face or Penguin? Then something happened, the Batmobile got blown up somehow, and then everything was spinning. There was a lot of red-- why was there red? Wait, liquid red; blood. His blood. That’s right, that’s what led to here- he walked all the way back to the Batcave caked in his own blood.
Alfred wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so he decided to head to the medical table himself so he could patch himself up. By himself. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Then a huge headache came out of nowhere. No, not nowhere. You were yelling, and it was both unexpected and contradictory to the silence of the cave that it caused his temples to throb. What were you saying? You sounded worried, and Bruce didn’t want you to be worried, so he tried to reassure you, all the while keeping his back to you.
That was now, though. That’s what all lead to now, where he’s saying: “I’m fine.”
“Don’t you dare tell me you’re fine when I slipped on your blood walking in here!” You firmly say.
He was leaning heavily against the countertop when you make him turn to face you and your entire body goes rigid. His face is rapidly dripping with blood, and you fear how badly the actual injury itself must look under his mask. His gaze is unsteady, and the paleness of his skin is unsettling.
You move him to sit down while you hurriedly gather supplies in order to treat his wounds, you sympathetically wince when you do peel his mask away, and reveal a fairly sized gash on the left of his head.
“What happened? How long have you been bleeding for?” You ask, trying to remain as calm as possible while gently applying some disinfectant and attempting to stop the bleeding.
“I…” He trails off, and blinks a few times. “Where’s Alfred?”
“He’s with Tim. Tim needed his help, remember?”
“No-- yes. I remember.”
“With how disoriented you are, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say you have a concussion.” You begin to clean the excess blood. “Why didn’t you call someone for help?”
“I didn’t need help.”
“Bruce-”
“Y/N, I got here fine on my own.”
“Fine? You think you’re fine, right now?” You grasp his chin and make him look at you. “Bruce, your words are slurring, your entire figure was hunched over as you were walking, and you didn’t respond or even acknowledge the first 15 times I called your name.”
“You called my name?”
“See, that doesn’t convince me that you’re ‘fine’.” You sigh, a single tear escaping you as you begin to gather the supplies for a blood transfusion. “Batman is still a man. You can’t be stupid. Jason was out, and while I know the both of you aren’t on the best terms right now, he would’ve helped you if you called. In fact, he wasn’t the only one out, what about Cass or Steph?”
You cringe internally when you insert the needle into his vein and tape it down in order to ensure the crimson liquid enters his bloodstream.
“Y/N,” He raises his opposite arm- the one lacking a tube- to wipe away a tear from your face. “I’m sorry.”
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll stop being a stubborn ass for once and put your pride away. What if I didn’t feel the need to check the cave instead of eating that tub of ice cream in the freezer? What if I never found you clinging to the wall-?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” His eyes look heavy, and it’s obvious he’s fighting to keep them open.
You sniff, “You’re okay now. Just get some rest.”
You don’t have to tell him twice, and he’s out the second his eyelids fall shut.
