Bruce listens, his attention grave. He knows words are difficult for her, that every one is agonized over in some way, and that words for this must be costing her. Admitting so much to him shows so much trust and faith it cuts cleaner than her acceptance of him (if he could accept himself, it'd be easier, but since when is anything about Batman easy). He is who he is-- most people would think that odds were better than even he'd reject her for allowing herself to be taken over, for the failure of it. And maybe she does think that, but is trusting him not to.

It makes him so angry that they did that to her. Will Cain try it in his world, too? Can he, without Deathstroke? (Because surely that idiot has different clientele, being shacked up with Jason's militia.) How low, how cowardly, like a child having a tantrum and destroying a toy because he's been told he has to put it back on the store shelf. If he treated Cassandra like a weapon, maybe he'd treat her with some measure of professional reverence; what he's done to her now is worse than that.

Silently he extends his own hands, offering to hold hers.