serendipity. [superbat]

son.

Bruce has somehow forgotten how it feels. He's forgotten the adrenaline rush that comes with worrying about other people in the field.

He's not even sure how it's possible, but as soon as he hears the sound of Robin's body hitting the ground, the sound of a bone breaking, it's like Bruce is back in it. He's knee deep in the grime of Gotham and he's wading through the muck. Though, he can't currently escape it, because that would mean leaving Robin behind. Robin, who's curled in the fetal position, completely unresponsive in a random alleyway.

Bruce can see blood dripping from his nose, see his vitals dipping rapidly, and see the way he's struggling to breathe. They're going to kill him if Bruce doesn't do something.

He'd been watching Robin on his computer monitor, previously attempting to act as his eyes as he tried to pick up intel on whatever the Penguin was planning. Bruce was miles away, unable to get into his suit, let alone do anything to help the kid.

Bruce snatches for his phone knowing that there is no chance in hell that he's going to get a response. Diana and Clark are off with the League. They weren't going to be able to help him when there was most likely a bigger disaster happening somewhere else. Even with Clark's attentiveness, he wasn't going to notice the sound of his phone if people were dying in a burning building.

It's been a long time since Bruce has felt this helpless, this weak.

He stands up from his seat, making his way up the stairs two at a time, calling out frantically for Alfred.

Bruce doesn't get a response.

He must still be outside with the puppy. Bruce doesn't have time to waste trying to call him and get him up to speed.

He makes his way back downstairs, ignoring the sound of his own heavy breathing, as he rushes back into the cave. If he went out without the armor, he could get the suit on. If Penguin's goons were still lurking around, he'd have nothing to protect him. He had to move fast, so fast they couldn't get their hands on him.

Bruce has no other choice. He climbs into the Batmobile in half of the suit before taking off into the night. Usually, this type of thing was par for the course. Watching a member of the team get into trouble was just a regular occurence, a thing Bruce prepared for. Though, apparently that was something he'd have to reacclimate to, because he can feel his heart tap dancing in his chest as he steps on the gas.

It takes him under five minutes to get to Robin's location, but it feels like an hour. It takes a couple of seconds to spot Dick in the dim light of the alleyway, but he eventually catches sight of him.

The men are still there, lurking in the shadows, seemingly waiting for Batman to make an appearance as they eye down the car. He's not going to allow a fight. Bruce swerves so close to the men that they're bodies are pressed up against the brick wall, completely pinned in between. He quickly climbs out of the car and grabs ahold of Robin before laying him over the backseat. He can hear the grunt and groans and threats spewing from the two men, but he ignores that in favor of taking off so fast that he was sure he actually hit one of them on the way out. He doesn't care to check, not stopping until he's safely back inside of the cave.

Alfred's waiting for him there.

Bruce isn't sure what he'd done or said in his frantic haze, but Alfred's pulled out the medical bed, his surgical equipment, an oxgen tank...

"I'll handle this, Master Wayne." The butler says, dismissing Bruce as he grabs for Robin's limp body.

He wants to brush Alfred off, ensure the man that he can fix this, but his feet feel as if they're moving through molasses after the initial adrenaline wears off.