Bruce hadn't slept in two days. Withdrawal gave him crippling anxiety. He sat on the toilet in the detox center, feeling his insides twisting, nothing but burning liquid coming out of him. This would be the worst of it, he told himself, although it felt worse this time. He looked at his trembling hand in amazement as he reached for the toilet paper.
When he was done with it he felt himself heaving. He was going to hurl. He needed to get off of the toilet and turn around to avoid spewing onto the floor. He didn't need that embarrassment. As he tried to, the pain in he knee made his swallow a scream. He felt like he was a thousand years old, his body more stiff than he thought it could every be. He awkwardly slid down to the floor and turned to face the bowl, tasting stomach acid coming up. As soon as he turned to the toilet he vomited. Some of the contents of the bowl splashed back at him as he puked. He should have flushed first. He has never felt so low, so disgusted with himself, so small, so weak.
He could leave at any time. Free to acquire the medications he needed to make all this discomfort go away. But he had sworn to Adriana that he would do this. If only he knew then how agonizing it would be.
He reached for the handle and flushed the toilet and leaned against the wall, still sitting. Standing seemed impossible. He needed help and there were nurses outside but he couldn't imagine asking for assistance. Bruce Wayne, the successful billionaire and one of the most powerful men in the world, sitting beside a toilet smelling like the stench of his own waste, unable to stand. He needed to stand on his own.
As he moved to his feet he heard a loud crack. It seemed to have come from his knee. It didn't hurt. Or maybe it did, but he just couldn't feel it through the pain he was already feeling. Once he was on his feet, his gait felt strange. It almost felt like one leg had become a bit shorter than the other. He shuffled over to the sink, leaning on it with both hands.
As he looked into the mirror, he wondered why he was doing this to himself. He had made her a promise but he was sure that no matter what, she was leaving him. She was gone. She was never coming back after what he had done.
If he was completely honest with himself, he was hoping that she would see that he was serious. That she was waiting for him. He was getting clean and deserved one last chance. It was the only thing he had to hold onto. The only hope keeping him going.
Then the truth hit him again. He had done more regrettable things than he had realized. He used Twyla's potion to see them together. Adriana and the Joker. Something he never should have seen. He never should have seen how they were together. His wife was leaving him. And on top of it he felt like he was dying.
"What have I done?" he asked himself.
Pushing reality into the back of his mind, refusing to think about it, was difficult. And he was at his breaking point.
Was she with him now? In his arms? He imagined Adriana immediately running to Jack as soon as he was gone. It hurt more than the detox to think that his wife had already moved on. And he was truly alone. On his own, suffering in this way, with no light at the end of the tunnel.
He wanted his medication. He wanted to be back with his son. All of this was within his reach. This thought came into his mind every 60 seconds. He could just leave.
Whether he stayed or left rehab, it didn't matter. Adriana would never take Arsenio away from him, he knew that. So what would change? She had already made her decision to be without him and to end their marriage. Whether he left now, or later, his marriage would be over but he would still be able to be with Arsenio. They would share custody. No one would care if he was clean or not.
No, he told himself. He had sworn.
He felt himself heave again. He needed relief. He needed his sanity back.
I need to leave. No, I swore that I would do this. I need to leave. No, I must keep my word. I need to leave.
He needed something. A sedative...something. Facing this was too much for anyone.
"You must do this," he told himself. "You must do this."
.
.
.
"Lucius told me that Bruce has gone to rehab," Jack said to Dr. Kapoor during his therapy session.
The doctor nodded once.
"Two days ago," Jack said.
The doctor nodded again.
"Have you been thinking a lot about Bruce?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," Jack said. " We are..or were...friends."
"Were?" the doctor said.
"I do not know," Jack said.
"Why would you think that your friendship with Bruce has ended?" the doctor asked.
"Well, doc," Jack said. "It depends."
"On what, Jack?" the doctor asked.
"What Adriana told him," Jack said and the doctor looked at him curiously. "She was here a few nights ago. She told me that she was going to leave Bruce. Said that she wanted to be with me."
"I see," the doctor replied.
"Yes," Jack said. "We both see. If she told Bruce that she wants to be with me, that I kissed her, well...no more friendship. I was expecting him to come here to kill me. But nothing. He just left for rehab. So perhaps she's changed her mind and didn't tell him."
"Changed her mind about you?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," he said. "She may have. I have not heard from her at all."
"And how does that make you feel?" the doctor asked.
It was a question the doctor asked a lot. Part of psychology. It wasn't always a question Jack wanted to answer, but he did it anyway.
"Well, doc," Jack said. "I would like them to be happy."
The doctor said nothing, only gave one of his meaningful looks. It was a tactic to get him to talk more, Jack knew this.
"I do not want to destroy her marriage," he went on. "I love her. I would like to be with her but..she has a husband. She married him so, clearly she wanted a husband."
"What do you mean by that? She wanted a husband?" the doctor asked.
"I meant it as I've said it," Jack said.
The doctor looked at his patient, trying to decipher what he meant.
"And you don't believe that you could be a husband?" the doctor asked.
Jack tried to talk but for the first time in a long time he felt himself stumbling over his words.
"I...well," he said. "What am I?"
Another meaningful look from the doctor.
"Bruce is a good man," Jack said. "Good at everything. He knows how to do this life thing. How to be a husband. How to be a father. What do I know of those things?"
The doctor said nothing still holding the gaze that made Jack go on talking.
"I won't bother her with a phone call," he said. "If she hasn't contacted me it's because she does not want to, and that makes sense. I understand if she does not want to talk to me. I would at least like to tell her that I understand. I am happy that she has made the decision that she wants to make."
"Are you?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," Jack said. "Bruce has made mistakes but he's a good fellow. If she chose to be with me, that could be a bad decision."
"Why?" the doctor asked.
"I could..." Jack said. "I could return to how we were easily. Friends. Seeing Arsenio. That's already far more than I deserve. You know I thought that if things didn't work out with Bruce I would immediately make a move to be with her but...seeing her the other night, so distressed and upset. Bruce hurt her but I know he wouldn't do that intentionally. And he is a good fellow."
"And how does that make you feel?" the doctor asked when Jack stopped talking.
"Terrified," Jack answered honestly.
"Of what?" the doctor asked.
"Well," he said. "Being the one to do that to her. I could...I could mess things up. I could let her down. I could disappoint her. I could one day be the one making her distressed and upset enough to cry. I could make things worse."
"And that scares you?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," Jack replied.
"Am I to understand that you would rather be without her than to risk hurting her?" the doctor asked.
Jack remembered the look in her eyes the last time he saw her. Frantic with sadness, desperation, disappointment. The only thing that prevented him from feeling completely destroyed seeing the woman he loved this way was knowing that at least, he did not cause her pain. He could slip, he could make mistakes that he would regret forever. And one day it could be him causing her this type of stressed agony. Bruce was a strong man to live with that. He was working on his problems and maybe she was forgiving him.
"Yes," Jack answered the doctor.
"So you feel that you would knowingly hurt her?" the doctor asked.
"No," Jack said. "'Course not, doc. No, no. Not knowingly. Things could happen that are out of my control. I can't risk that."
"No one can blame us for things that are beyond our control," the doctor said.
Jack blinked and looked away.
"We wake up every day and make choices," the doctor said. "Dishonesty is a choice. So is honesty. Open and honest communication are what help us to make sure that we are understanding what others expect from us. No one can blame you for things that are beyond your control. If you do not want to hurt someone, you don't do it. You always have a choice."
Jack still looking away said, "Yeah. Right, doc."
The doctor wanted to regain eye contact.
"Jack," he said and after a few seconds he achieved it.
"Yes?" Jack asked.
"Do you feel you have ever acted in a way and done things that were beyond your control?" the doctor asked.
"I've hurt a lot of people, doc," Jack answered.
"But did any of it happen," the doctor said, clarifying. "Were any of them hurt in a way that was outside of your control?"
Jack blinked and pressed his lips together.
"No, doc," Jack said. "I did it all. I chose to."
"So you see," the doctor said. "You know that you are in control of your actions. You have changed and progressed so much. But never forget, that you are the one in control of your own words and actions."