thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
thomas didn’t know what to think about bruce in his suit. he was obviously frightened over the whole situation so he clung to you the entire ride back to the manor.
you almost couldn’t believe it when bruce drove you into literal cave. “unbelievable, you really are the most extra man i know.” you shook your head with a small laugh. only he had the funds to make an actual bat-cave.
bruce ignored your comment and parked. when he got out, you took a moment to fully admire the suit and all it’s intricacies. once,he took the cowl off again, his dark paint smeared down his face. you finally could recognize your bruce now that you weren’t in a full blown panic.
you got out of the car and held thomas close as bats flew over your head.
when he walked over to his work station, he pulled out his contacts and put them onto a machine where the worst night of your life started to replay in front of you.
you turned away, unable to stomach it again. you hadn’t even shown up on the screen yet, but just bruce’s point of view of him racing to get to you.
bruce noticed this after he was through shedding the rest of his armor. “come on, let me get you both settled.” you nodded and followed him upstairs to the manor.
nothing had changed since you left. it was like time had stood still. when you walked through the stairwell, memories hit you, hard. you willed away your tears and walked to the master bedroom.
bruce didn’t question it. that had always been your bedroom together, but it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. you turned to ask but he spoke first, “that night you came. in the rain. i stopped sleeping in here. i couldn’t face it. after what i did to you. i knew i had broken you and all your stuff was in here and the room smelled like you. i-“ he took a deep breathe, “i’m sorry.”
you closed your eyes for a moment and settled thomas on your hip. “i love you and i want you to be apart of our lives but how can i trust you won’t do that again?” you whispered, before he could answer you continued, “i’m going to bathe thomas and then myself.”
after thomas’ bath and your shower, you felt human again. bruce had taken a shower in the other bathroom and was in some pajama pants that were familiar to you. he had laid out one of his old shirts on the bed and a pair of your underwear that you had left behind for you to sleep in.
there was also a package of diapers and onesies; bruce had obviously run to the store while both of you bathed. you smiled softly and changed both yourself and thomas. thomas was exhausted and didn’t even need a bottle to fall asleep.
when he was asleep, you went looking for bruce.
you saw the light on in one of the guest rooms and opened the door. he was laying in the bed, reading. “come to bed.” you said softly. it wasn’t a question, but he could say no.
he looked up at you, confusion on his face, “i want you to come sleep in the bed with us. i won’t feel safe unless you do.” you said walking over and sitting next to him. you also missed him but couldn’t let him know that.
you didn’t want him to think that things would go back to normal, but after the night you had, you couldn’t fathom sleeping alone.
he sat up and gently put his hand on your cheek, “i will never let anything like that happen to either of you again.”
you rested against him and inhaled, “just don’t leave ever. that’s all that matters. now come to bed, b.”
you stood up slowly and took his hand. he took it and followed you to the master. you crawled in next to thomas and bruce next to you. the three of you curled into each other’s arms.
your little family was almost whole again. all that was missing in the house was alfred. then things would be complete.
A note from Lucy:Oops, my hand slipped. Bruce is now in therapy. And you should be too. Yes I wrote this instead of revising for that all important psychology paper two tomorrow. Yes, that was the aim. Also, I KNOW, it’s not a healthy therapist/client relationship…but this is fiction, people, GODDAMN IT! IT IS WHAT I WANT IT TO BE! I also know that this is shitty…i’ll get round to editing it properly later (maybe?). But that’s not the point- the point is…Follow the batboys lead, get some help (and let me know if you want a part two). Now shut up, Lucy, go to sleep, its 2:40 am here and you have exams-
“We spoke last week about coping mechanisms; More specifically, living with this anger you described.” You were flipping through your notes from the last session you two had and what seemed the most pressing at the moment to Bruce. Bruce nodded from his seat in the chair opposite you. He was sort of slumped into it, his head lowered into his chest as he avoided eye contact. Or maybe it was just to avoid the mere sight of you. “You said you get frustrated often.” That same glassy look occupied his face, very brooding and serious. And then his brow creased. He shook his head in another curt nod. “What with?”
For the first time in twenty minutes he looked at you. Which was impressive considering it was an hour long session today. Something dangerous flashed behind those blue eyes. Bruce was hiding something. You could tell from the way he shifted in his seat, the way he closed himself off from you, the person he had come to in order to ‘open up’.
“People.” You raised your eyebrow, aiming for an elaboration. But Bruce seemed entrapped by something hidden in his mind.
The feeling of his fist colliding with skin shot hot thrills through his spine. The bruising peppered over his knuckles would have been a sign to reign it in but he just couldn’t. Not when the feeling of the thugs bone cracked under his own clenched, balled hand was screaming to be felt again. It was electrifying.
Not all people crave physical contact in the same way. Some people seek it out in violence.
“Their disrespect.” You have gotten used to these one or two word answers. Mr Wayne was certainly a silent man. But you had a feeling it was loud in his own head. A person’s head is his own space for him to voice his thoughts. Not everyone feels the need to let their opinions be shown in the stentorian daylight colours. It was such a specific hue that not everything looked as pretty as it was once earlier perceived. Lighting can be everything.
“For what?”
This man had been following a woman for the past few blocks and Batman had been following him. It was all about timing with this duty. He never went into something without taking the correct precautions. That’s why he waited until now to drag the man’s flailing body into a dark alleyway to be dealt with.
His hand clamped down like a vice over his mouth, the attacker’s hands flying to his own aid as he clawed at Batman’s arm. His nails were nowhere near enough to even scratch at the armour the Batman had on. It was at the dead end of the alley that the man was flung at the wall, his hood falling off to reveal a skinhead beneath.
The figure of vengeance and darkness itself didn’t say a single word as the man uttered out pleas to be let go and that he ‘would never do it again’. And he didn’t say anything when pummeling him into the grubby concrete, a steady stream of blood dribbling from his chin now, swirling with saliva, the mixture lacing his gums and teeth that looked darker in these specific shadows.
“For you?” He looked almost disgusted that you would ask such a question, anger heating slightly in the pit of his stomach, yet not to a boil. That frustration you spoke of soon entered the equation again. You knew from the way his fists clenched, almost gouging at the armrests to the chair opposite you. His knuckles, usually purple, drew white from the tension held so stubbornly within them. The sharp bone of his knuckles kept his skin tight, cracking them slightly as he ignored the new sting as his old cuts opened up.
“You think I have a superiority complex?” You shook your head with a small chuckle. Superior complex? No. Saviour complex? Maybe…you didn’t know enough yet.
“You haven’t answered my question yet. You answer mine, I answer yours. That’s how a conversation works, Mr Wayne.” He had grown accustomed to your slight humour in the past few and a bit months. He would be lying if he didn’t find it attractive in some way.
“For other people.” You noted this down on the page of your notebook. Bruce let out a drawn out breath, looking just out of your eyeline. Back to square one. As per usual.
“And that’s what-“ you paused, trying to think of a way to put this, “makes you angry.” There was a pregnant pause between your question and his answer, setting you on edge slightly.
“It confuses me more than anything.” You sighed in relief internally.
“How so?”
“I have a voice in my head. People’s blatant disrespect sets it off.” You furrowed your brow when Bruce hid back into himself, his hands meeting in his lap now to fiddle with his already blunt nails. Bruce felt his stomach twist and his throat tighten. Never before had he spoken about him with you. He was too terrified of letting something slip.
Rain poured into his eyes, running down the sharp slope of his nose, down the cowl that sealed his identity from Gotham’s vicious headlines, and tabloids, and criminal population. His teeth gritted- his hands tightening around the throat of a man he cared not about. Part of him felt a rush from having his life quite literally in the palm of his hands.
Their eyes soon tinted red, face burning up red, then purple, his lips becoming blue. The sight must have grounded him, prying this murderous thought from his blackened mind, for his gip loosened.
The man slipped away, scurrying off…and the Batman stared down at his gloved hands in disgust. He didn’t want to be a killer.
“What’s so bad about this voice?”
“It’s violent,” he said, not missing a beat. Something flagged in your mind. He answered too quickly for him to not have thought about this before. The man’s chest rose with an inhale, but did not fall with an exhale. You continued slowly, noticing how his shoulders drew up and he tensed.
“Why do you think that is?”
“There is violence in everything.”
“Could you think of an example?” He studied you for a second, striking blue eyes darting around your face. Studied you the way you study ice to see if it’s safe to walk on.
“Stars. We watch them burn to relax. That’s not beautiful. That’s destructive.”
“And you see people as the same.” He nodded. “The voice contributes to that, I’m guessing.”
“Sometimes I find it hard to separate it from the rest of my thoughts. It’s there to be what I feel I can’t be as Bruce Wayne.”
“It’s too often that our own worst enemy is the version of ourselves we create in our own head. And it’s difficult because it’s a part of you and therefore knows what gets you the most. We have to remember that this voice would be nothing without Bruce Wayne. But Bruce Wayne is still everything without it.” You purse your lips, thinking of what to do next. Bruce Wayne was too much of a puzzle to know right off the bat. “Have you tried journaling?”
It always took Bruce a while to shed the skin of The Batman. Every night he would take off the cowl, the suit, the boots, the gloves. But it was never enough. He was still left with those thoughts that he had to remember. Pushing himself. Finding a limit. And pushing it some more.
Bruce’s thoughts tangled into the Batman’s and he struggled with which identity was who. Bruce got angry, The Batman cowered in shadows. Sometimes he would go out, a mix of him and this monster he made. A drifter. Dark circles from sleepless, troubled and haunted nights hid under black paint pasted over Bruce’s eyes. Or maybe it was Batman’s eyes? The eyes of vengeance personified. He had no idea who they belonged to anymore. When he saw violence it was the Batmans. Any other time they were Bruce’s. He loathed it,
The Batman could not quail…or this whole idea was for nothing. He needed a way to separate the two. Or maybe merge them together completely?
He shook his head, “No.”
“You could try it. A few of my other clients use it to ‘thought track’ as it were. When they feel scared, or confused,” you said, gesturing to him, ‘they write it down. They say it helps to see the words on paper before they have a chance to…run away and hide, per say.” He was silent. Bone chillingly so. It was hard to see through the shadows the higher planes of his face created, but he grimaced.
Offering a small smile to him, you closed your notebook. This whole conversation- hell, whole session- couldn’t help but get you thinking as you paused, noticing how he shifted again in his seat. “This is off record, I won’t write it down…but-” You tried not to stare him down and give the worried-shrink-look. “Do you, as just Bruce, feel threatened by this voice and the expectations it places upon you?”
‘Shit’, he thought.
Maybe you had found out? He went to shake his head ‘no’, but paused halfway through. He couldn’t bring his eyes to meet yours, you were looking so intently at him that it almost burned up his neck. An army of goosebumps arose on the back of his neck.
“Sometimes.” The man croaked. It was hardly a whisper out of his lungs and more an exhale. Your pupils traced along the sharp contours of his face, his jaw, the slope of his nose, still in that contorted, painful position. His jaw was set on edge as if he was clenching his teeth together so hard they would crack. He felt he might crack. He couldn’t crack. His head swayed from left to right. You tilted yours, your tongue drawing your bottom lip into the confines of your teeth. “It takes a lot to ignore.”
“Do you ignore it because of this pressure?”
“I think…It’s hard to tell. I don’t know if I want that to be Bruce Wayne. I don’t know what else to do to stop it interfering with my life.”
You found it interesting how as soon as you had closed your book he had started to say more. Not limiting himself to a few words each time you asked a question.
“There are many things to help deal with intrusive thoughts, Bruce.” You crossed your legs, the position you were once in growing uncomfortable as you leaned forward in your seat slightly. “Exercise, diet…sleep.”
“I exercise.”
“Regularly?”
“Daily.” You didn’t know why it was such a shock. It’s not like he wasn’t a conventionally attractive man to look at. But he seemed to hide beneath the layers of loose and dark clothing. Today’s choice being a pair of deep blue jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt. Nondescript. Under the radar. That was Bruce Wayne in a nutshell.
“What-” But Bruce had pre-empted your question before the words had the chance to escape your lips.
“Boxing. Martial arts.” The bruises on his knuckles made more sense now. How they never seemed to fade. It was something you made a note of in your very first session. “I don’t want to cause harm to people that don’t deserve it.”
Bruce’s keen blue eyes flicked over to the clock above your head and then the window to where it had started to grow dark under the thick blanket of Gotham’s smog. He had done this a total of five times so far this session. It added a hint of reason behind his skittish nature. The bounce of his leg and the way he seemed…elsewhere. “I have to go.” He stood up much faster than you did…or could have even anticipated. Something didn’t add up to you. He was definitely hiding something from you.
“Goodbye.”
“Uh-” He was gone. Out the door. Just after slinging his jacket over his shoulders. You moved to the window, eager to see him go. Maybe the reason for his abrupt departure lay outside on the grimy street below. He jogged down the steps to the building, glancing up at the sky before continuing with his hood drawn up down the pavement, the only trace of him being his breaths made visible from the biting cold air. You leaned forward, cheek almost pressing up to the cold glass pane, trying to get a glance at the sky. It was out, the bat symbol. He was out.
“Goodbye, Mr Wayne.” You muttered, moving to your desk and taking a seat there, opening up your notebook to translate rough notes into his file.
Hasn’t tried journaling yet…ask about it next session → maybe to see it.
Something certainly didn’t make sense here as the mystery of Bruce Wayne seemed much deeper than meets the eye. No. There was definitely more. Something darker. It smelled of mystery, made your head hurt to think about and caused a prickling of curiosity to ignite at your fingertips. Taking your pen, it took a moment for it to reach the paper, but when it did you scribbled out anything and everything he had said the moment you had closed your notebook.
“Feel threatened by this voice”…“the expectations it places upon you”…
“I don’t know if I want that to be Bruce Wayne”
His knuckles, usually purple, drew white from the tension held so stubbornly within them. They never seemed to fade.As soon as you had closed your book he had started to say more. Under the radar. Bruce’s keen blue eyes flicked over to the clock above your head and then the window. It was out, the bat symbol. He was out.
A gasp ripped from your lungs as your pen tumbled from your hands, clattering to the lino floor. In the rush of your thoughts you had drawn a mindmap to try and organise the chaos and it has worked. It all made sense now. Each branch linking together and each bubble providing another piece of evidence for your hypothesis. And in the centre; a name. His name; Bruce Wayne.
