I'm back. And I have to go to highschool tomorrow S:(

But anyways, here it is- I know it's a little father/daughter centrc, but it's critical to the plot. Also- somebody asked me where Robin was the last chapter. I mentioned somewhere in there that he was patrolling the opposite side of Gotham, I think. Anyways- Hugs! 3

He could barely stand, but he couldn't sit still. His daughter was lying across the room on a metal table- Leslie had her back to him, gloves on up to her elbow, as she worked meticulously on hs daughter, the steady beep of the monitors the only thing keeping hope alive. Alfred was helping her- he'd been shooed away, left to stand by himself and pray she was alright...

His eyes fell on the bloodied cape he'd wrapped her in- absolutely soaked in crimson. Even though he wished with every fiber in his being that she was alright- he knew the odds were against them. He couldn't forget the look on her face as she fell- eyes widening as she felt the pain, the way her lips parted, a shaky gasp escaping, before she was on the floor at his feet, bleeding...

He wanted to bury his head in his hands, but they were covered in blood, as well.

He hadn't protected her. She was absolutely his everything, and now he was going to lose her since he'd been so careless.

A motor roared into the cave, and a moment later the R-cycle pulled in. Dick pulled off his helmet as he dismounted, pulling down the kick-stand, looking confused...

He saw the blood on Bruce's gloves, then, looked over to see the bloodied cape and Leslie, who was only partially blocking the view onto the table...

Bruce would never forget the look of sheer terror the boy gave him. So much pain, fear, in that one look- he was asking his father, no, he was begging- for her to be alright. But he couldn't promise him that, couldn't promise him anything... He was useless.

The grey that'd been creeping into the corners of his vision intensified as his aching legs finally gave out.

He watched Dick's expression go from terror to horror, but his head was filled with cotton and he was choking on his sandpaper tongue, so he couldn't reply when his son's gloved hands frantically shook him. Before he could work up the sense to say something, he was out.

His chest was on fire, and his back ached terribly. All in all- he felt like one giant bruise.

He could hear monitors, but for a moment he was confused. His visioned fuzzed out and he blinked once- twice- before he came face to face with Leslie.

The doctor's worried face softened slightly when she saw he was awake, taking on an almost motherly expression- it showed the wrinkles and laugh lines, the way the skin around her eyes crinkled with relief- a testament she'd had to keep this sleepless vigil far more than she deserved.

"I don't know how you're still alive." she deadpanned, grey eyes boring into him. "Four broken ribs- one punctured your lung. It started filling with blood- your pulse oxygen was so low I thought you were gone. Not to mention the abrasions..."

He winced, struggling to get his breath as his cognitive function dripped back to him. He remembered, now, the gas leak, the explosion... Scarlet.

"Scarlet!" he choked out breathlessly, jolting forward. Colors of pain flashed before his eyes and he whited out for a moment- the next thing he heard, once his senses came back to him, was Lesle yelling for him to stay down as she forced his shoulders back onto the bed.

He panted, drenched in a cold sweat, still in pain, before he turned his head to the side, looking over at te bed nearby desperately. "Scarlet..." he rasped.

"She's alive, Bruce- that's about all I can say." Leslie brushed his sweaty locks from his face, looking upset. An expression of anger swept over her features like a wildfire- "What the hell happened to that girl, Bruce?"

"Joker."

Leslie paled considerably, but Bruce didn't care at the moment. "She- is she alright?"

"She lost a lot of blood, she was in shock. It took 4 pints to stabilize her- the knife- I'm assuming it was a knife, anyways- nicked her liver, but it'll heal. She's got some badly bruised ribs, and a badly broken arm. She's running a fever but I can't say I'm surprised after all the trauma she went through. She's going to be in a world of hell when she wakes up, Bruce. What possessed you to take her with you?"

"I-it was a trap." was all he rasped out, before he was slowly working himself up onto his elbows.

"Bruce-"

"I need... see her... please...let me see her."

Leslie bit her lip, hesitating for a breif moment before realizing he'd crawl across the room is he had to. She nodded, allowing him to sling an arm over her shoulder and helping him over until he was beside her bed.

Her skin was so pale- even her lip were a dull shade of coral. He couldn't see the badages beneath the sheet she was covered in, but the bruising on her face and all the monitors she was hooked up to told him all he needed to know. She'd nearly died.

He collapsed into a chair beside her bed, his own hand dwarfing hers as he took it.

"She's not going to survive another fight like this, Bruce- it's a miracle she made it through this. And she's going to hurt- she's got a lot of healing to do."

Bruce nodded, his head pounding. "She won't. She won't go through this again, I won't risk her- she's officially out of the hero business. She's just Scarlet, now- Sparrow is dead."

The first thing she registered was that every square inch of her skin was freezing- except for her left hand. And that everything was slow and methodical. And her head felt... odd. Like it was filled with cotton. She focused intently for a moment- it took so much effort, but eventually she'd turned her head to look over and see her father beside her bed.

She tried to say his name, but no sound came out. Her tongue felt thick and rubbery, and she sat there, frustrated...

She shifted slightly on the bed and her father shot up from where he'd dozed off, staring down at her in disbelief. "Scarlet?"

More sensation was coming back to her, now, she was slowly regaining the ability to move. She felt absolutely awful. What'd happened to her? She was so cold...

"Bruce..." she went to sit up- she wanted to reach out to him, wanted him to pull hr into his lap and hold her like he did when she was little and sick- but before she could even get halfway to sitting, a wave of red-hot agony tore through her middle.

She didn't even realize she'd been screaming until she couldn't breathe. Bruce had pushed her back down onto the bed, and that'd hurt even more, like someone had filled her insides with molten hot maggots and they'd started to eat her insides...

Eventually it dulled from unbearable agony to excruciating, before she was laying on the bed panting, aching dully, still feeling incredibly ill, wondering what'd just happened to her.

"Dad?"

"Don't move. Do you remember anything?"

She shook her head, eyes filling with tears. "No- I-it hurts, Dad, and I don't feel good..." she was starting to cry, now, but even that movement hurt her ribs, and she gingerly curled into the fetal position onto the bed. Bruce reached out to touch her but paused, uncertain. He'd only hurt her more right now, she was only nine, too young and confused to understand why she was in so much pain...

"Make it stop, Daddy..." she got out between her tears, sobbing quietly.

His heart- what was left of it, anyways- broke right then and there. All he could do was mutter soothing words and stroke her hair- she cried herself into exhaustion before falling into a fitful sleep. Bruce sighed, looking down at her. He didn't know whether to hate himself for letting this happen, or thank god she was still alive.

She wouldn't go through this again. He swore it. Even if it meant she had to hang up the costume for good, he'd rather have her alive as a civilian than a dead hero.

"You'll be alright, Scarlet. I- I'm sorry it hurts- it was my fault- but you'll be alright. I promise..."