He stopped at the top of the stairs, walking forward a few steps before he stopped and faced the railing. The exact spot he had been standing that night of the party. Where Jack had come up and started something they couldn't take back. It was brought to an end, but nothing could erase how special things had been between him and Jack. Which was why he felt guilt for what he had done to Jack the day before. He couldn't take that back and didn't expect Jack to ever forgive him. That is, if he ever saw Jack again.
Because his suggestion of bringing Jack here to Gotham would be out of the question. And Bruce wasn't planning on locking Jack away in Arkham. There were other doctors and hospitals here that could help. Why hadn't he talked to Jack about that when he could? Would Jack have listened? Probably not. He didn't want to stay in the hospital he was in right now. How would Bruce be able to convince to seek help here?
Bruce leaned heavily against the railing, clinging to what he had left of Jack. He closed his eyes and pictured Jack walking up the stairs and over to him, offering his help whenever Bruce needed it. Bruce could have stopped things right there since he knew better, but Jack had captured him right from the start and Bruce didn't want him to let go. And Bruce had ruined all of that by not fighting for Jack's release, instead agreeing with the doctors and betraying Jack.
"Master Wayne?"
Bruce opened his eyes and pushed away from the railing, turning to see Alfred standing there. "Sorry I took off when I did," he said since he hadn't explained why he left. What would Alfred say, knowing Bruce had gone in search of Jack? He hadn't known what went on between them. "I guess Princeton just wasn't for me."
"Would you like anything to eat, sir?" Alfred asked. Bruce couldn't tell if he had been hurt about Bruce taking off without talking to him about it. One more thing for Bruce to feel guilty about, but at least he knew that Alfred would forgive him easier.
He tried hard not to think about Jack not forgiving him AT ALL.
Would that change if Jack agreed to come to Gotham? Bruce didn't think so.
"I think I'll just sleep for a while," Bruce said, having no appetite. "I might be down later."
"All right," Alfred said. He stood there a moment longer then turned and headed downstairs.
Bruce turned and headed toward his room, turning and heading for another bedroom when thoughts of Jack sleeping with him entered his mind. He was definitely going to be suffering for a while. Was it better than still grieving over his parents? Both feelings were probably equal.
He climbed into the bed, but was unable to fall asleep. Whenever he closed his eyes, the look Jack had given him yesterday filled his mind. How could he do that to Jack? People didn't do that to the people they loved.
He knew he should just push Jack out of his mind since he was certain he'd never see Jack again. He squeezed his eyes shut, clinging to the blanket over him and let that pain pass. He would have to move on. Jack was gone. Alive, but still gone. Unable to be brought back. He rolled over, pulling the blanket up over his head. He had accepted that his parents were dead. Could he accept that Jack was officially out of his life for good?
Bruce wiped his face when he felt the tears fall. He shook his head, refusing to break down. HE had brought this on. It was HIS fault. He couldn't blame Jack for reacting the way he did. If it was reversed...
"You would have forgiven him," Bruce muttered. He flung the blanket off of him when he imagined Jack climbing into bed behind him, slipping his arm around Bruce. Fuck. Bruce could STILL feel Jack's touch and warmth. He sat up and just sat there, taking slow, deep breaths. All he could hear was Jack's whisper of 'Love you, too,' before he took off and left Bruce nearly three years ago.
Bruce got out of bed and headed to his own bedroom. He took a quick shower and dressed then started packing a bag. He didn't hear Alfred walk in. He zipped up the bag and turned, finding the butler standing in the doorway, his eyes on the bag in Bruce's hand.
"Going on another trip, sir?" Alfred asked, holding a tray. Tea. Obviously to help Bruce's stress. He was an open book around Alfred.
"I'm leaving," Bruce said, unable to stand another minute here in the mansion with Jack lingering in his thoughts. He needed to get away from everything. Give himself time to move on. Because he knew he couldn't go after Jack again. Jack would only turn him away, hurting them both even more than they were already. "I don't know if I'll be back."
"Are you sure you want to be doing this?"
"Too many bad memories here," Bruce said, knowing Alfred would think about his parents.
"I take it you found Mr. Napier, but things didn't go as planned."
Bruce was taken aback that Alfred knew about that. "How-"
"You can keep secrets all you like," Alfred said. "But not from me. I knew how important that young man was to you."
"I loved him, Alfred," Bruce said, unable to stop himself. "And I did the worst possible thing I could do to him. I betrayed him. Knowingly. I can't live with myself after that."
"So you leave?"
"I wanted to get out of Gotham before Jack," Bruce said. "This isn't all about him."
"Don't run away, Master Wayne."
"Good-bye, Alfred," Bruce said then walked past the butler. Alfred didn't try to stop him. He headed downstairs and toward the door, stopping to grab his jacket and the other bag. He puled the door open and walked out the door.
Hoping never to come back.