[It's a disquieting experience unlike any other- to be unable to trust his senses. To doubt his perception of the world. This isn't the first time he's felt it and in a way that makes it easier to manage- not the symptoms, but his reaction to them. There's a kind of pause around each external stimuli. A moment Bruce takes to assess whether what he hears or feels, the smell in the air- if it's real. If it's a threat. If it's something he needs to react to.
Like the hand around his wrist.
He's felt hints of this for a few hours, a tug on the hem of his shirt or the elbow of his sleeve, a brush against his hair. This is the strongest of them, the most pronounced- and instead of jerking hard in the opposite direct, instead of the instinctive desire to break free, Bruce goes still. He breathes out, feels the squeeze of adrenaline. But the hand connected to him looks very real and it doesn't need to be fought off. It withdraws all on its own.
There's a young man standing opposite him. Bruce looks up at his face, and then looks towards his lantern. One is more readily identifiable in the dark, after all.
He blinks owlishly and the voice that replies is cavalier.]
no subject
Like the hand around his wrist.
He's felt hints of this for a few hours, a tug on the hem of his shirt or the elbow of his sleeve, a brush against his hair. This is the strongest of them, the most pronounced- and instead of jerking hard in the opposite direct, instead of the instinctive desire to break free, Bruce goes still. He breathes out, feels the squeeze of adrenaline. But the hand connected to him looks very real and it doesn't need to be fought off. It withdraws all on its own.
There's a young man standing opposite him. Bruce looks up at his face, and then looks towards his lantern. One is more readily identifiable in the dark, after all.
He blinks owlishly and the voice that replies is cavalier.]
What, did you want one?