#bruce wayne oneshot

Warnings: angst, brief mention of violence

Words: 899

Prompts (found here) Used:

64. “I can’t do this anymore.. not with you.”

42. “It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?”

Alfred watched quietly as Master Bruce puttered around the kitchen, fingers tapping and touching nearly everything without settling. They both knew he was just stalling time until he had no choice but to face the music upstairs. He ran his fingers across the toaster one last time before sighing, turning around to face his friend.

“I suppose I should go tell her I’m back.” He leaned against the spotless marble counter-top and drummed his fingers mindlessly against it. Alfred merely fixed him with a knowing look and nodded slightly. Bruce gave one final tap to the edge and bid him good night.

He opened the bedroom door almost silently, only to be greeted by a scowl as you switched on the light. You were curled up in his desk chair on the farthest side of the room. He knew you’d been up for a while thanks to the nearly empty mug of tea in your hands. The two of you studied one another for a brief moment- him taking note of the way your hair curled around your face and how well you filled out his shirt that you had stolen for bed, you feeling bad over his exhausted expression yet getting angrier as you realized he also looked just as guilty as you knew he had to be.

“It’s midnight.” You were the first to break the silence. “Where the hell were you?”

Bruce sighed and ruffled his hair, turning from you and beginning to undress for bed.

“I had business to attend to, you kn-”

“Business? At this hour?” You nearly laughed at the pathetic excuse. “Do you think I’m that stupid?”

He turned around and fixed you with a patronizing look that made you feel like a kid again.“Of course I don’t think you’re stupid. It’s just- It’s complicated, okay?”

“Everything with you is complicated, Bruce. Women who date you should be offered a manual upon first contact.” You quickly swallowed the remaining dregs of your cold tea before setting it down and moving to your boyfriend.

Bruce relaxed the moment your hands met his back, sliding around from behind to help unbutton his shirt and pull it away from his shoulders. You went to push up his undershirt as well but he gripped your hands and gently pulled them away. If you saw the bruises spreading across his ribs, courtesy of Penguin, he knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge your questions.

You stood there for a moment, staring at his back in confusion as he gripped your wrists tight enough to keep you still. The anger that had ebbed away when you touched him came rushing back full force, accompanied by hot angry tears that refused to fall.

He was surprised but complied when you yanked yourself away from him and walked over to your side of the bed. You yanked off his shirt so you could put on your own clothes- the shimmery dress that had gotten you many compliments just hours ago at the gala.

“Babe, what are you-”

“No.” That’s all you said as you clipped your bra into place and began shimmying into the tight little number. He was quiet for a moment, so you continued. “No. You need to tell me right now what’s going on. I don’t think you’re a cheater, Bruce, even though that’s exactly what this looks like. But you’re lying to me about something. I don’t want to spend my whole life in the dark, so you need to clear it up rightnow.”

He made a move to help you zip up out of habit, but you gracefully dodged him and squirmed around until you managed to get it yourself. You stood there, shoes in hand, waiting for him to say anything.

For just a moment, Bruce actually considered telling you. You’d stuck around longer than anyone else. You’d seen and heard plenty of weird, living in Gotham your whole life. The trust he had in you was unshakable, and that was amazing on its own. What’s the worst that could happen?

But then he pictured you battered and broken, surrounded by the Penguin’s henchmen. He watched the Riddler dangle you over a vat of acid as he threw random bat trivia at him. The worst was when he watched the Joker bring his crowbar down on you over and over again, blood flying into the air as you tried to scream in pain but all you could do was laugh hysterically thanks to the gas.

“Bruce…” Your voice brought him out of his reverie, your lovely, musical voice. You stared at him, willing your tears to stay back a little bit longer. “I can’t do this anymore with you, do you understand?”

After a moment of silence, all he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him with wide eyes. Unbelievable. He couldn’t be honest with you, after all this time. Closing your mouth and squaring your shoulders, you slipped your heels onto your feet and strode past him to the door. You picked your purse and coat up off the floor, but not before sparing him one last glance. He looked much older and frail in that moment, and you actually felt a great swell of pity for him.

“Good bye, Mr. Wayne. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for.” With that you walked away from him.