"Good." He managed to say without coughing up blood or half his lungs. Spending so much time inside that fog was killing him from the brain and the body, a two-pronged attack that forced everything to be significant. Bruce struggled every day with his conscience and now it was doing so physically.
He saw the light at the end of the tunnel and the car next to the tower like a beacon. Bruce could see himself with Darcy and Jacob, reunited and safe and happy like they were meant to be.