The glow of the screens that reflected in his eyes disappeared when Bruce's grappling hooks took them out. What little life in them seemed to fade with it. It became more obvious how damaged he was when what little light that seemed to give him presence finally faded away. His heart might not have psychically stopped beating but part of him had broken and died. His throat was dry, and even breathing was a difficult task. How could anyone have been ready for something like this. To be tortured for almost two weeks..and finally to lose themselves.
It was like he was a shell of a person. Empty eyes watched Bruce distantly. Uncertain if what was standing infront of him was real or just another heart breaking illusion of hope. Even as the screens were ripped out of the walls and sparks flew towards him he didn't flinch or pull away. Didn't react like a living person might.
He wanted to believe, but he'd wanted to believe since the first time he thought he heard Bruce's voice.