"You're your own woman Harls, when have I ever forced you to do anything against your will?" His voice was a bit snippy; he was rather insulted by her words. "I don't intend to abandon our son. But you can't deny that things only seem to go much worse when we're all brought together under one roof. Especially... when the kids are left... alone."
Bruce rose from his seat and moved over towards his wife. How long had it been since just the two of them had been able to be... just Bruce and Harls? Like they'd used to be. He missed her. He missed them. Together. Things had been so crazy these past few weeks, there hadn't been time for reconciliations. He still felt off foot with his wife. Something that pained him to no end every time he looked into her big, blue eyes.
Taking her hand in his, he took in a breath; there was no time for grief now. "If we're going to get through this, we're going to have work as a team Harls. We have to be on the same page here."
It was true. They had been working against each other too long in regards to the kids and really everything that was going on. Bruce had lost his families trust, and with it, their respect as head of this household. Harls especially, Bruce felt, had been letting her own bitter feelings and insecurities work against him and against herself. It was time for Bruce to step up, whether it was the right step or not, he had to be self assured enough to convince his family, to convince Harls, that it was the right step.
"You have to let go of that old guilt Harls. We /both/ have to let go of our guilt. We're no good to either of them like this." Bruce also had both a theory and a secret; one he'd yet shared with Harls, but now seemed as good a time as any. "You accuse me of knowing nothing about inner demons." He shook his head, and kept her hand in his, needing the little contact to grant him courage. "I know a lot more than you realize. I spent a lot of time in Hell. It was ... part of the job description that came along with... holding the power of the light."
A shadow seemed to cross his features. His voice sounded far away as he spoke on. "I...really would rather not talk about it Harls." He swallowed hard. "But if there's one thing I learned in my time on that job... it's that demons are cunning little fuckers. They can sense any chink in your armor and they use it against you. They use your emotions...against you. Things like... self doubt, loneliness... guilt... leave you open to them. Leave you ... susceptible to their evil...their ... darkness."
"At first, I thought that if we banded together, stuck together as a family, you know strength in numbers, in family solidarity..." He scoffed. "I was wrong. I wanted to believe that together, we were stronger than each of us alone." There was intense sadness in his eyes as he spoke now. "The truth is... we've never been the fucking Brady Bunch. Our family unit is sick Harls. Afflicted. Not all of it is the demon's doing. We have much to be held accountable to. We allowed the demon to grow stronger and we sure as fuck made it easy for him didn't we?"
But Bruce was getting lost in the details. Something he was always too prone to do. Harls was one of the most intelligent people he'd ever known. On top of it, she had always been attuned to him in ways that no one else could even hope to be. That was one of the problems. Somewhere along the way, they'd seemed to have lost that connection. Not entirely. It was still there, but as long as each of them remained allowing their own insecurities and their own perceived failings to get in the way... the connection was harder to access. Too caught up in their shit, their own hurt and or guilty feelings, that the connection was harder to feel... to grasp onto.
"The night we discovered the truth about Mathias, do you remember what you said to Spencer? About what it was that defeated your own demon?" There was so much heartbreak in his eyes, and Bruce had fight back a fresh wave of his own guilt as he spoke. "You've begun to doubt that Harls." His grip on her hand tightened, anticipitating the hurt his words might cause. Not wanting her to pull away, no matter how much the truth hurt. "Please, don't shut down on me. Listen. It's the key to it all darling." He pulled her against his pounding chest, his arms tight around her for fear she'd run away. "Because /I've/ failed you, you've begun to doubt me, you've begun to doubt my love.. /our/ love. The very thing which helped to conquer your own demon. She's coming back Harls. I ... know you've felt her. I've... felt her... on the edges for some time now. You're so vulnerable right now and that filthy bitch /knows/ it. She's just scratching away at every little hurt, every little doubt, every tiny insecurity and she's using it against you. Amplifying it and using it to gain strength to break through."
Tears were burning in his eyes but he continued, "I have no doubt that Mathias is doing the same with Spencer. We can't allow them to win Harls. This is one time, where banding together isn't going to work. The demons together are too powerful for us. I know you've always had a better relationship with Spence than I have, but it's too dangerous right now. It's like a fuse to the dynamite. I'll take Spencer away. Like I'd intended to do months ago. I'll go with him. You stay here with Auri, and try to convince her it's best. For all of us. And please..."
He pulled back so he could catch her eyes with his own teary ones, "Please try to find that faith again. In me. In us. I love you. Christ. I love you so much and that's /never/ changed. It's never /going/ to change."
Bruce was silent, his eyes silently appealing to his wife for her understanding and consent. It was all he had left to think to try. He wasn't sure if he was right, and if he was, being apart from Harls wasn't going to do much to rekindle anything between them. He was asking a lot. He was asking it all on faith. Though faith alone... could be just as powerful as an entire army of demons. Bruce held that faith. He had to. It was their children that needed their parents now. In the whole. They had each been guilty of favoring one over the other. It was normal enough in families. But with Harls gone, Spencer had been the one to suffer being overlooked. Not through any malice on Bruce's behalf, but mainly through misunderstandings and the shadow of grief. It was time to remedy that at last... if it could be remedied. And the same held true for Auri and Harls, though in different ways. They needed to re-connect with their children, earn back their respect and love and trust as their parents. And as for Bruce and Harls, they would have to go on faith with each other, until the time came when they could solidify once more their own broken hearts.
Well, when she was young and naïve perhaps. But from what she could remember, he was telling the truth. Okay, so he was right, like always. Ugh, she hated that he could be so right with something like this. That always got on her nerves. But yes, Bruce was right. Since coming back it had been nothing but devastation. It was like the stability they had once before, was now lost. They couldn't get it right, and when they tried even harder, it damaged them all even more.
He came over to her, and even though he was her husband, she felt…off around him so close to her. She didn't understand why, and didn't /want/ to feel these things about him, it just sort of…happened. Which made her brain all jumbled up and confused. He took her hand, and she inhaled sharply, missing the feeling of his touch. It was the first time, in a long time, since their last holiday. Another ugly reminder of what happens when they left their children alone, then catching them and forcing them to get their asses back home.
But his words, even she had to admit, were ringing true. They had been a fantastic team, way back when. They didn't need words to work co-efficiently and in synchronized movements. They just /did/. And now, it seemed that they needed to go over every little detail to make sure they both knew what they were meant to do. It was an odd sensation, and she missed the old days.
He talked about her guilt, and she faltered and paled at the mention of it. She /hated/ when anyone spoke of her guilt. Her shame. Her insecurities. Sure it was unspoken there, most times, that—she could deal with. But now, with Bruce making it plain as day. That made her feel sick to her core. It made her feel weak, like a little girl who can't even stop a bully from calling her names. She'd just got into the corner and cry in shame and hurt.
Still, it was no secret that she thought she was still so pathetic for someone to love. She was sure, most positive, sometimes, that she was a fake. At everything. Wasn't good enough for anyone. She remembered all those tabloids when they found out Bruce and her were a couple. The reports, lies and doubts spread all over those papers and magazines. She had even kept some of those shiny magazines. Locked up in a secret panel, she thought no one had known about. When she was feeling just as pathetic, she'd go and hide in her office, with a few copies, and read the articles.
Harleen Quinzel – They made her out to be the hottest bad guy in a long time. Apparently she had used Bruce as her new social status, a whole new wardrobe, and for the sex appeal. They all thought it would be over within the first couple of months. And how they were wrong. She was sure Bruce hadn't noticed any of it, but it still hit close to home. But now, she was doubting her own love for him. His love for her. All of it. His actions had cut her more than anything anyone had ever done before.
"You don't understand. I /can't/ let me guilt go. I'm someone who really can't let things go that easily. You /know/ this. I'm always guilty of something. It isn't going to change. I keep thinking, if I'd never gotten pregnant, then this wouldn't be happening. I've /tainted/ them, Bruce. I've done this to them. If…if I hadn't been.." She had to stop herself from completing that sentence. She was right though. If she hadn't been compromised from the start. If he had found someone else; someone who didn't have an evil demon bitch using her for her own dirty deeds, then this wouldn't be happening. So why shouldn't she be feeling immensely guilty? His hand in hers, felt strangely odd, but she took comfort in the gesture. So rubbing the pad of her thumb over his skin gently, she looked back into his eyes, not wanting to miss any emotion or flicker. Only, when he said 'Hell', he meant it. A shiver ran down her spine and she thought she was going to be sick. She had never been to Hell herself. Though, pretty damned close with a demon living inside of you. It wasn't something she wanted to know about. But—those images were burned into her memory forever.
The night of the party, she met her younger other self. They had bumped into each other. Skin on skin contact. And since she was pretty good at picking up certain things, of course she had picked up /everything/ from the Angel. One of them, now clear, was when the Angel had talked to Dean. Their heated discussion and his final effort in telling her to leave it alone, before he caved and let her see what she needed to see.
The Angel had seen Hell.
And now she had seen it too.
It wasn't something you could easily forget. And then she was bombarded with betrayal. That Bruce hadn't told her about this either. It wasn't easy, sure, but with everything they've ever gone through, she would have thought telling her about that surely would have been an easier way to gain her trust back? Her chest pained in regret. Why was it so goddamned hard to tell each other things? Back then it had been so easy. They could read each other like books, now days; it was like trying to fucking figure out a million year old hieroglyphics, which were almost faded away.
She tried not to let that eat away at her, when there were so many other things to worry about, but now it would be at the back of her mind. Another insecurity to deal with. So be it. But he was right. Demons were the foul creatures. Their sole purpose was to make everyone as twisted as they themselves were. Only then would they be happy. Their family /was/ sick. It was dark and disgusting. Memories haunted her. The darkness inside both her and Spencer. Doing those foul ungodly things with each other. She was still so sure Bruce didn't know such things, maybe he had figured it all out. And it wasn't like she didn't suspect what Bruce had done either. Their daughter wasn't so innocent as she had hoped to believe. Again, it was her fault for tainting her precious little souls.
The night he spoke of was clear in her mind. The first time she'd seen her children in a long /real/ time. Of course she remembered, how could she forget? His hand held her tight enough, that she knew what was coming. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to listen. It was wrong, but it was right. Her breathing slowly became erratic, in her fear of what he was going to say. Her eyes pleaded with him. 'Don't say it, please.. I'm begging you.' But his words kept coming. They brought tears to her eyes. She was desperate not to cry. Not like this. She wanted to pull away, to run and hide, and pretend everything was okay.
Only it wasn't. And she wasn't sure if it would be again. Because admitting something like this. Felt like devastation. One of her last hopes. He pulled her against him, and she felt trapped. She shook with so much emotion, trying to keep it all in, but she was going to break, she knew it. She didn't want to! She couldn't!
He knew.
He wasn't stupid, she knew that. But she had hoped, prayed and begged, that he wouldn't notice the subtle changes that happened. Then again, she had no idea sometimes, thinking it was just stress. She had let him down. He knew, and she couldn't stop her at all. She didn't have the energy or the strength anymore. She was tired, and ready to give up. It was her nightmare coming to haunt her all over again.
And she would be stronger this time.
She couldn't hide it anymore. The tears stinging in her eyes fell down her cheeks, and she choked on her sobs. She wanted to love him, to love all of him, like how it was when they were first married. It was all damaged.
"No—we can't let him get out then." She shook her head. "You're right. They're too cunning for us, but at least one is away. Bruce-You have to promise me…" Was she ready for this? No. But for the safety of everyone she loved… "You have to promise me, that if anything happens. If../she/ comes out, you have to lock us up. Please. I'm so tired, I won't be able to even struggle with her." She hated admitting that to him. She knew she was stronger than before, but not like this. "If he stays behind bars, and we get him proper help, and we'll keep Auri away from him. I won't let you go off with him; he'll use that against you. Please trust /me/ on that."
Her eyes watered once more, dull and in defeat. "You have to remember, that I'm fragile. I know I can handle myself, but this.. You can't expect me to snap my fingers and forget what happened." But she did lean up and wrap her arms around him, willing to put it aside for other things.
"I love you so much. I can't live without you. You're my soul."
Then she leaned back and kissed him softly, a sign to him that she was still here. That she was still his wife, and she needed him.
She bled her heart out to him, and he could see the pain so clear in her eyes. He had to fight back his own fresh waves of guilt and shame. She took so much on to herself. And it wasn't right. "No. You can't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." She turned away. "Look at me, Harls." He demanded, and lifted her chin to face him. "You have to wipe that idea right out of your head /now/ because it's complete bullshit. Do you hear me?"
He knew she wasn't believing him, he needed to make her understand. "They were perfectly normal kids for almost their entire lives. If you had been the one to taint them, all of this shit would have started a long time ago. But it didn't. Harls, it didn't start until we came back here. If anyone's to blame, it's me for bringing them back here. But baby... it isn't anybody's fault. It isn't yours or mine or Spencers or Aurora's. The only one to blame here are the damned demons. Do you understand that? Believe that Harls. For godsakes please... believe that because that's the truth! It isn't and wasn't your fault anymore than it was Spencers."
As always, Bruce could sense her reluctance, almost revulsion ... at his contact. It's how it had pretty much been since their return. It broke his heart, but he refused to give in and pull away. She spoke about how she was so afraid that she wouldn't be able to let go of her guilt, her doubts, her pain... honestly, Bruce wasn't so sure he was up to the task himself. But someone had to remain strong. Someone... had to have faith.
"I know the feeling baby. Trust me. I know. But you have to try. We /both/ have to try. It's how they get in. It's what they fucking feed off of. And... and I'm not so sure I can do this alone." The last was both difficult and risky to admit. But alot was going to have to be let out in order to release it. "We can start small. Just by... by talking about things. Getting it out. Clearing it out of ourselves so that all these feelings don't sit and fester and feed the bastards."
When she asked him to lock her away, if she wasn't strong enough, his heart broke a thousand times. He held her tight as she cried, and wished he could take the pain away more than he wished for breath itself. He didn't want to make that promise. He wasn't sure he could keep it. But perhaps, she needed to hear it, in order to know that there was some kind of a safety net. An eject button in case of emergency. Security. So he nodded. And when he promised, he meant it because he knew how important it was to her. "I have faith in you Harls. I know it won't come to that, but you have my word."
When she spoke to him about what he had originally proposed, he was almost shocked. He hadn't expected in a million years that she would agree to such an idea. No matter how logical or how crucial it might be. But there it was. And the plan felt so much more solid, so much more... optimistic than plan B had been. "I agree. I was afraid you would understand. Thought you'd flip your shit over it honestly. I think it's the only way. For now. You and Auri both need to maintain a distance. Of course I trust you darling. I trust you." His eyes darted to their still unconscious daughter laying on the sofa. "Now the question is... how do we convince the kids?"
She rose up on her toes and leant into him. Her arms wrapping around him. That simple gesture, so familiar, yet... so long since he'd felt it, had him damn near in tears. But it was her words. The raw honesty and heart with which she spoke them, and her lips on his. That was what broke the tears free, as his heart picked up a beat and at last... began to beat again in it's proper rhythm. In time with hers. As it was always meant to do. "You alone hold my heart Harls. It's always been yours and always will be. No other. You're the only one I would ever entrust it to. The only one I who could ever hold it. I'm yours then, now and always. Two souls that dance as one my love. Always."
That was her shame. Now risen to the surface. To the man she loved more than her own life. She didn't want to hear anymore, was about to shake her head, but he made her look at him. She didn't believe him. Not really. She knew it was her fault. It would happen sooner or later. And it just seemed to be the later part. "But it's /always/ been there. I was the one that gave it to them. Bruce, you have to know that. You're the light in them. If I hadn't been with her when I was pregnant, then Spencer wouldn't have Mathias, and Auri wouldn't have her own dark taint. You have to believe me on /that/."
Nodding to what he was saying, and that she did want to at least try and get things back to normal…with /everything/, not just their children, but with them as well. She needed it more than anything. Otherwise their whole world would just be something of a dream. Her fear was that she had made it all up. All her wants and hopes..
"I can't do this alone either. I need you. By my side, not in front of me. But Spencer need to stay in jail. He can't come home, it'll be too dangerous. And you can't go off with him either." There, she had said it. The first step in spilling things to each other. "Thank you." She needed to hear that he would promise her if she fell off the band wagon, he'd do what was right.
His words. Made her tear up again. It also let hope into her heart. And she clung to him. "I know now is not the time, or even the place. So if we're going to do this, we have to do it properly. Will you remarry me?" Yeah, that didn't sound too odd at all. This time, she was sure. If he loved her, and now with him saying everything she'd wanted in a long time, she was certain that he did love her. This was her other first step. "I want to after we figure it all this out first."
Harls' refusal to let go of the blame was both frustrating and heart wrenching. "It's not like it's some genetic defect or disease like down syndrome or heart disease Harls. They're fucking demons. Evil entities entirely separate and drudged up from the stinking bowels of Hell itself, complete with their own agendas. How, on gods green earth, could /you/ or anyone else claim responsibility for someone elses actions or motives?! Yes, she was with you during your pregnancy, but if any 'taint' came, it was from /her/ Harls. /Her/ not /you/!"
Christ, how could he ever get that through her thick skull. So quick to take the blame onto herself, however ridiculous and impossible it was. He didn't know much about psychology, not so much in medical terms or anything like that. But he wasn't completely oblivious either. Being married to the top doctor of Arkham for some 80 years, he knew enough. That coupled with his passion for old Hitchcock films, he had a little theory of his own. "You're a brilliant doctor Harls, yet you're so blind when it comes to yourself. Not everything is supernatural either. Darling..." He held her tighter to his chest, his lips brushing her dark hair. "You have what I believe all you head shrinkers refer to as something called a 'guilt complex'".
Bruce was pretty confident in the accuracy of his assessment. Not only did it fit the plot of one of his favourite Hitchcock films (Spellbound, starring Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck), but he'd also googled that shit. She fit it to a tee. Any hot blooded woman who would take on the blame for her husband's chronic infidelity, wasn't the pathetic, ignorant female that others might judge her to be. It was this guilt complex thing. Bruce also knew that no matter what he said or did, Harls' 'condition' would never allow her to believe that she wasn't the one soley responsible or anything and everything. But maybe... calling it out would be enough to push her into a little bit of doubt in regards to the authenticity of her guilt feelings. After all, Harls was no stupid bimbo. She was a highly intelligent woman and a doctor of the mind to boot. He only hoped she would take it under some serious consideration.
Tears glistened in her eyes once more at his words. His heart ached and stuttered at hers. His scarred lips curled into a happy and almost abashed little smile. Reaching his hand into his pocket, he withdrew his fist and folded his palm out to her. There, resting in the soft cup of his hand, were /her/ rings. The originals, and the newest promise ring he'd presented her weeks ago. "I've been carrying these around with me, hoping..." He had to swallow the tight lump of emotion that choked in his throat.
Bruce couldn't remember exactly why she had taken them off. His memories leading up to the fire were vague and hazy in his mind. The last thing he'd remembered in regards to their relationship, was that she had accepted his promise and agreed to reaffirm their vows. Yet, there must have been something. Something he couldn't quite remember, but he must have broken that promise somehow. Or perhaps she had simply changed her mind, the doubts too heavy in her heart as to whether or not he /could/ after all these years of infidelity, be trusted to remain faithful now.
He had noticed almost immediately upon waking from the fire, that the rings were missing from her fingers. His own still on his finger, and there it had remained.
As soon as he was physically able, he'd snuck back to the fire ravaged remains of their home. He'd spent hours sifting through the charred debris, not even sure whether what he was looking for would even be found. For all he knew, she had hidden them away somewhere, or gotten rid of them entirely. He had been just about to give up when his black, ash coated fingers had felt the small, cool metal of the first ring within the debris. It had taken three or four separate trips to find them all, and then hours on top of that cleaning and polishing them back to their original luster and shine.
"I don't think we should wait. Not if.. not if you're certain this time." He stuttered over it. His own insecurities plain in his nervous little twitches and his own verbal ineloquence. He was no prize. He was scarred inside and /out/ now. It might have seemed silly or vain that Bruce Gallio, of all people, was suddenly very insecure in regards to his own physical appearance. Doubting that which he had always been so sure and even cocky of, his desirability and attractiveness. At the same time, it seemed like a sort of poetic justice. It was a fitting punishment. He wore his scars not with pride, but with something akin to a branded acceptance. Much like a prisoner comes to accept the hideous orange prison uniform. Or perhaps the way the pious priests of medieval times wore the brands of their own self flagellation scars. And perhaps... Harls wasn't the only one suffering from a guilt complex in this relationship.
"I love you. I will /always/ love you. There's no doubt in my mind about that. I made you a promise, and I.. I'm not clear exactly on ... on whether or not I've already broken that promise.." He knew it was risky. This moment especially, to bring up what could possibly be fresh wounds. But, he needed to both confess and be sure that she was sure. "I'm.. sorry, I know... I know how shitty it is but .. I... I honestly can't remember."
He lowered his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what happened to compel you to take these off in the first place. But, seeing them back where they belong... means more to me than anything else." He looked up at her then, honesty and sorry, pain and hope. "I want to pledge myself to you, and /only/ you. Forever. And I don't want to wait to do it. I... don't think I /can/ wait. I /need/ the world to know... I... need... /you/ to know, that I'm yours, and you're mine, and nothing will ever sever that again. My promise. My heart."
She couldn't believe. He was defending her! As her husband, yes, you defend your wife and family, but this really was her fault. The more they avoided it, the more it would hurt. "Because I shouldn't have gotten pregnant knowing that I was tainted. I should have left it alone until I figure out to beat her!" Well, now it was out. She sighed. When he spoke of the guilt complex, she frowned. She knew what it was-and perhaps, he /was/ right about that. Maybe that was her reason for thinking everything was her fault. Not that most things /were/ her fault, so why not keep blaming herself for everything else at fault too?
"O—okay, so maybe you're right. Maybe I do have a guilt complex I need to deal with as well." She bit her lip anxiously, and he shuffled around in his pocket for a second, before showing her /her/ rings. Gasping lightly, her eyes popped. How in the world..? "You went back for them." Swallowing down loudly, she gently reached out to touch them. They looked brand new; just the same as the day she took them off and slammed them down on the table in front of him.
It actually hurt her that she took them off in the first place. She'd felt so empty and out of place without them on for so long. Like a ghost. Maybe once she put them back on, she'd know her rightful place. By his side. "I know I'm not perfect, but this means a lot to me, and I'm grateful you have them. And I couldn't be more sure." She could sense more that see he was nervous, but she wasn't, she wanted him. He rambled on nervously on what he couldn't remember. At least she couldn't be angry about that. She knew why.
"It's fine. I know you can't." Which was actually a bad thing, because if he wanted her to spill on why she was keeping a secret, she couldn't ever tell him. It was too risky. Not to mention what it would do to them once again. She wouldn't do that to him. "I have faith in you, my husband, living without you is the worst thing in the world. I can't imagine not being by your side. You may grow old and withered, you might have grey hair, or no hair. You could shrink to 3 feet tall, and I'd carry you around in my pocket for safe keeping. I fell in love with /all/ of you. And you will always have my heart and soul, I will always love you Bruce Gallio." Then she held out her hand so he could do the honors, as she looked into his perfect blue eyes.