A collection of drabbles, because...

Well, I am feeling drabble-ish. :)


You always knew when Bruce was having a nightmare. He would repeat the same pattern: his right hand would start curling into a fist, he would groan slowly, and then start twitching. Words would sometimes filter out, usually seeming from one of a much younger, more open, mind. Then the horror would break through. The sudden jerk, the cry of anguish- muted by the pillows and his own sleep- would then escalate into a tearless sob.

Selina would, per routine, ask him about it in the morning. He would shake his head as the raven black hair caught the sunlight streaming from the large windows. His eyes; those petrifying, entrancing turquoise that seemed to suck one in, would be clouded in nostalgia and regret. Then he would shrug saying 'Same old,' and swing out of bed energetically.

She never understood that.

The assumption was easy: he dreamed of his parents. but how did he... how did he suppress it?

The world had come to expect the 'normal' Bruce Wayne- charismatic playboy, businessman extraordinaire. They had all forgotten who he was; what he had been through.

His parents death had shaped him. While men of lesser strength had risen from the ashes of such an event and made something of their lfe, free from anger, hate and most pain, he hadn't.

Why?

He was too early. He was thrust into the world of business, of coldness, of money, covered only with the well-pressed suit of lies.

He wasn't shown what he could have been.

What could he have been?

He could have been anything: but he rose to become the Batman. Was that rising? Or falling?

She contemplated all of this as she curled closer into Bruce's shoulder, his scent- spice, and ocean, and a hint of rum- a remaining piece of his... excursion... into Cuba to question a drug dealer- filled her senses and comforting her array of thoughts. She slid a hand over his shoulder as he shifted, his face pressing into the cream colored pillow and his arms curled under his chest.

His hand started twitching.

She sighed and massaged the perpetual knot in his shoulder, hoping to comfort him...

Until she heard her name, uttered from those soft lips.

Her hand froze along his back as he shifted, pulling her into his chest. His words, whispered and slow, were still one of dreams, mentioning 'Selina' and maybe... 'Never leave' ?

She smiled and dug her nose into the side of his neck.

She didn't think this dream was like the rest.


Eh? Have had the most major writer's block ever, and am trying to rid myself of it. Pray, people. Pray. :)

UPDATE! I have been told that Bruce has blue eyes. I thought so, but could not remember, so put 'brown' to coincide with the movies. Thank you, anonymous reviewer!