A/N: Hey everybody.. I know it's been awhile; life's kind of gotten in the way. But, I'm going to attempt to get on an every two weeks update schedule. This past month has been CRAZY and with my dad being in the hospital, I've had other stuff I've had to do. Anyway, you don't care about that, but I'm hoping to get on an every other week schedule to switch between Agony and His Boy. Thank you for being patient and as always, feel free to review, PM, follow, or favorite!
WARNING: Self Harm plays a big role in this story. I understand if you cannot handle it, it is okay to turn away.
On with the story!
~G
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Bruce's eyes opened to a blinding white. Was this is? Was he in heaven?
"You're awake."
Bruce turned to look at the female voice - Selina Kyle. Nope. He was definitely not in heaven, then. The boy chuckled to himself softly.
"Something funny?" Selina raised an eyebrow, frowning.
"No," Bruce's voice croaked.
"Hmm," Selina quipped.
"How are you?" Bruce smiled politely.
"Fine."
"Someone's in a mood."
"Really?"
"What's your problem?"
"What's, my problem? My problem? You! You're my problem! You've been out for three days because you wanted to end it all, and the first thing you say to me is 'how are you?'," Selina raised her voice.
Bruce looked down. "I was only trying to make it easier on everyone. I know how much of a bother I am."
"No," Selina's face was four inches from the young billionaires, her eyes dangerous. "Don't you even fucking start that shit right now."
"But it's the tru-"
"Stop! Just stop Bruce!" Selina yelled. "I don't know where you get these crazy ideas, but just," she sighed, "just stop. Please," her voice was barely audible.
She took a deep breath. "You think that the world would keep spinning, the seasons would still change, but do not tell me, do not tell me that the world would be the same. Don't tell me the gym at the god damn prep school you go to wouldn't be silent for four days in a row after the principal announced your death. Don't tell me Detective Gordon wouldn't have a drink at two in the morning from now on until he drank himself to death. He has a baby on the way Bruce," he sucked in a breath, "didn't know that did you? You know what that would do to him, to his child. To Lee. And," her voice cracked. She looked away, her voice not even considered a whisper.
"To me.. Do you know what that would do to me?" Bruce's heart clenched. He leaned up to comfort her, but she backed away, turning her back to him. "Do you even know, Bruce? There's so many people who care about you."
"Selina, I-" his voice caught in the back of her throat. "I'm.. I'm sorry."
She sighed. "Don't be. Just remember.. Next time- no, not next time. Remember you have people here for you. Please."
"Selina... Selina I-"
"Don't. It's okay," she smiled. Through the window, you could see the sun peaking through. "I've got to go. Clients and such," she gave him a small smile. "I'll see ya around, kid."
She was gone. Bruce sighed and looked at the spot and reminisced where she had been standing. She was so different than anything that he'd ever known.
Bruce was mad at himself, more than anything. He still had things to do. He still had to track down the man who killed his parents, and his new goal. He would find Tabitha Galavan. And he would kill her.
Selina and Detective Gordon could help him, more help coming from the former than the latter. Bruce didn't know what his problem was, but every time Jim Gordon heard the name Galavan, a shiver ran down his spine and he instantly turned pale in the face. He just didn't know if he-
His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of soft lips that ghosted over his, just briefly. It was so chaste that if he wasn't honed in on every move Selina made, he wouldn't have known it was her.
"I'm glad you're alive," was the whisper left in the empty space where she had been.
And with that, she had disappeared. Bruce sat up in his hospital bed, adjusted his hospital gown - he hated the things - and stared at the window which she had used to make such a quick exit. The curtains still billowed with the soft breeze from the early morning wind, and the sun began to peak over the skyline, the world an ambient orange.
Bruce smiled for the first time in a long time; after weeks of the dreary confines of his mind, he finally had a focus, a purpose in this world. He felt bright, and on fire, burning even. He felt alive.
.
.
.
It had been four days since Bruce was released from the hospital, and he was beginning to get sick of Lee's constant attention on him, even though it was very thoughtful. She had apparently decided he was going to be her first patient as she experimented with psychology.
"How are you feeling today?" She would question.
"I'm feeling just fine, thank you," was the same reply she had received for four days.
"Are you feeling any trauma?"
"Nope," Bruce nodded curtly and that would be the end of that. But, since she didn't have anywhere to be on Friday other than Jim's place - which she she already was - the boy guessed she was not satisfied.
"Really Bruce," she smiled. "It's okay to feel things. To have emotions. You've been through a lot, and if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to." Bruce didn't know what compelled him to speak, but he did.
"I'm angry."
"And that is perfectly okay. It's only natural to feel-"
"I'm angry at myself."
"And why is that?"
"I was acting foolishly."
"How so?"
"I still have so much left to do here on this earth."
Lee smiled. "That's good! What do you want to do? Are you thinking of law school, or maybe medical school. Oh! With your brains, you could even go to engineering school and-"
"I want to find the man who killed my parents, and I want to kill him."
"Oh," she set her cup of tea down.
"And I will find Tabitha Galavan. I will kill her too," he deadpanned. She looked concerned.
"Look Bruce, I know you have a lot of built up rage, but anger and violence is never the answer. That is a dangerous path you're going down. Are you sure you want to do that?"
He looked her in the eyes. "I have never wanted something more." She sighed.
"Supposed you find these people. How will you kill them? What will you use to kill them? Will you leave the bodies or hide them? Confess to the crime?"
"I.. Haven't thought that far ahead."
"Well you better, if you're planning something that big," she raised her eyebrow and took another sip from her cup.
"You don't understand what it's like to have everything ripped away from you, do you?"
"Luckily, I do not, and I won't pretend to," she smiled, "but I will try to help you as best I can. We're here for you Bruce. You can always come to me or Jim. So that's why I am asking. Please just reconsider your plans? Let yourself calm down and settle first before acting rash, okay?"
Bruce gave her a curt smile. "Definitely."
"Thank you," she pulled him into a hug. He squirmed but eventually hugged her back. He would never admit it out loud, but he needed the hug so badly. Just to feel another human being's presence so close to his reminded him he was still here. He still thought he wasn't sometimes.
.
.
.
Jim Gordon had experienced a lot of things in his life, but nothing as confusing as Bruce Wayne.
He let out a long sigh as he leaned on the desk in his home office and held his head in his hands. It was Saturday night, he was off, and he was sitting here sifting through files over the Wayne murders and Tabitha Galavan. They didn't have much on her; she just kind of showed up out of the blue with her - shiver - brother. He grit his teeth and pushed back from his desk, rolling his chair into the glass wall that overlooked the city below.
Slowly, he turned his chair around and looked at how the moonlight cast a ghostly light across the skyline. It gave it an eerie luminescence that made his skin crawl. He leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes and let out that long sigh again.
He didn't know how much more of this he could handle. He had almost lost Bruce just five days ago. He knew he shouldn't have left him here alone. It was all his fault. He was beginning to get so caught in between all of the police work and the extra "Bruce work". He didn't have time to sleep anymore. The more information he could feed to Bruce, the more it distracted him.
He didn't notice the door squeak or the little patter of feet touching black-stained hardwood floors until it was standing in a dark mass of sleepiness and blankets two feet away from him.
He looked towards the boy. "It's three in the morning, you should bed asleep," Jim said gently.
"I could say the same about you."
"Yeah but this is my job."
"Well this is mine. Go to bed," Bruce said forcefully.
"Oh no, not you too. Did Lee put you up to this?"
Bruce smiled slightly. "No, but I should talk to her. We could plan some amazing things." Jim shuddered.
"Anyway. Go to bed Bruce."
"Not until you do."
"Alright," Jim smiled coyly. "Time for an all-nighter." He could see Bruce's resilience quiver. He knew the boy was tired, but would never show it. He looked into the giant saucers he called eyes and mentally suppressed a groan. "Or.. I guess.. I'll head towards bed."
"Thank God," Bruce huffed under his breath and stood in the doorway, waiting for Jim to stand up. Jim put his glasses down and slowly walked toward the door, silently thankful for the boy's intervention. He really did need some rest.
"Night Bruce."
"Goodnight, Jim."
And in a small, significant moment, Detective Gordon felt two small arms wrap around his torso. Slightly taken aback, he put his around around the frail frame of Bruce Wayne and they both stood there in silence, neither letting go for a long time. It symbolized their relationship - symbiosis. Not one without the other. If one let go, the other would be soon to fall. They were in this together, whether they liked it or not.
Neither let go until the sun came up and Lee walked in with fresh coffee and donuts.