Archive of Our Own ^beta

The base is quiet now, quieter than it was a couple hours ago. Freeze had gone straight back into the room that his wife was in, taking Riddler's body with him to do who knows what with it. Bane had also disappeared into a different room, the one they had taken their so called 'traitor' into, so it was a good guess he's 'questioning' him further.

Harley was gone.

They left her behind and they don't know whether she got caught or ran away or even died. Even after only knowing her for two days, Bruce is sure it's not the latter. She's tough and too stubborn to let that happen.

Didn't help John though. He was mad, furious, and Bruce was taken aback because he's never seen him like that. So enraged, so upset, so desperate, so utterly heartbroken. He stormed off into his house when Bane had put his foot down on going back for Harley, and he hadn't come out since.

Since there was no use for him right now Bruce was free to take his leave, come back when they had another job to do, but he couldn't. His eyes would keep drifting to John's house and something heavy would drop in his stomach whenever they did. He needed to know, to see if he was alright. More importantly, to check see if John was gonna end up doing something stupid. Letting out a breath, Bruce made his way over to the pile of wood John called his house. Raising his fist, he tapped three times on the door.

"John?" He put his ear close to the door to try and catch sound of the man inside, but it was completely silent. Not like the first time he entered; hearing sounds of feet on the floor, shuffling of clothes against furniture, and quiet giggles. John certainly wasn't a man who can keep still for more than a few seconds, so the silence made Bruce think maybe John was asleep. But he was doubtful. "John, it's Bruce, I came to check if you were alright." He explains and waits, but still silence. Even though he feels a want to leave he forces himself to stay glued in place.

He goes to knock the door again but it opens slightly before he can. He blinks in surprise when it does, partly because John's letting him in even though he's upset, but mostly because Bruce didn't even hear him. He makes a mental note about how light John is on his feet. Bruce pushes the door open enough to enter and sees John already sat on the edge of his bed. Bruce closes the door, not taking his eyes off John, taking in the sight before him.

He's hunched over, spine a perfect curve, with his elbows leaning on his knees and he's wringing his hands together. His usually bright eyes, now dull, are cast down looking anywhere but at Bruce.

"Hey, John," Bruce speaks, wincing at how awkward he sounds. He didn't mean to sound condescending.

"Bruce," Is all he gets in return, John's voice quiet and cold. Bruce stands in the middle of the room felling incredibly out of place. He pushes down whatever's making him want to reach for the doorknob again and sighs.

"How're you doing?" John's hands stop moving but his grip is still tight.

"How am I doing?" He repeats back slowly. "Doing what? I'm not doing anything. I'm just sitting here, doing nothing, absolutely nothing." His voice rises as he speaks, left over rage bubbling back to the surface. His hands start moving again. "All while... While Harley's still out there."

"John there's not much you can do right now," Bruce tries, keeping his voice level.

"I could help her," John's voice is low and Bruce can see his breathing is beginning to pick up. "Go back, find her, bust her out. I have to do something!"

"You can wait, leave it until tomorrow and then go look for her."

"I can't wait that long!" John yells out, slamming his hands down on the bed to clutch the edge of the mattress. Bruce is taken aback at the outburst but forces himself to keep calm, he has to be the rational one here.

"John, I said there's nothing you can do right now," Bruce explains slowly, coming to crouch down in front of John, continuing when he doesn't move. "The place will still be swarming with cops and the road will probably be blocked too. If you go back tomorrow, it'll be easier to look for her."

"But... But what if they got her?" His voice is so quiet and his eyes so wide when he finally looks up at Bruce. The laugh lines on his face are gone and replaced with worry lines. Bruce feels something twinge in his heart and he doesn't like it.

"If she's been arrested - which, let's be honest, is doubtful - we'll hear about it on the news. Then we can figure things out from there, take our time with it. If she escaped, she'll definitely make her way back here, but we could still look around if you want." Bruce looks him in the eye the entire time, making sure John follows every word. The lines on John's face fade only a fraction, but it's enough to tell him he's listening.

"I mean... w-what if she's-- she's..." John swallows, his head turning away.

"Come on, John," Bruce smiles slightly, bringing a hand to John's chin without thinking to get him to look back. "You really think Harley would be taken out by a few suits? She can pull off a bank heist all by herself, I doubt she even got a scratch on her. She's tough."

Bruce watches John carefully. He's chewing his bottom lip as he thinks about it, but eventually he nods, the lines smoothing out. Now he just needs to smile.

"I'll help you, every step of the way," Bruce reaches to the side, grabbing John's wrist lightly and lifting his hand in front of them. John lets him. Bruce brings up his other hand and hooks his pinky around John's. He just about hears John suck in a breath. "I promise."

John stares at him in silence, his eyebrows still upturned in worry and thought. Bruce watches the way John's pupils can't seem to make up their mind on what size they want to be. Looks at the flecks of yellow around those pupils, that look almost gold next to the bright green of his irises. There's some darker greens dotted in there too and the whites of his eyes have cracks of red around them. Bruce suddenly feels conscious of how close he is to John, he doesn't remember being that close when he first crouched down.

Clearing his throat, Bruce pulls back and stands up, "I should probably..." But when he does he feels something tug his arm. He looks to see his and John's pinkies are still wrapped around each other.

"Can you stay?" Bruce looks back to John's eyes and he feels something sting behind his own when he sees just how small John looks. "P-please? I really don't want to be by myself right now."

Bruce swallows down the lump in his throat and smiles. "Of course, John."

John smiles himself. It's a small, sad one, but it's a smile nonetheless. Before Bruce can react, John let's go of his hand and jumps up from his bed, wrapping his arms around Bruce.

"You're a good friend, you know that?" John's voice is muffled by Bruce's shoulder and Bruce tries to ignore the guilt gnawing at his gut.

***

They eventually ended up sat together, shoulder to shoulder, on John's bed watching episodes of Looney Tunes on Bruce's phone. John would chuckle or comment on something occasionally, but it wasn't until he fell completely silent, save for his quiet breathes, did Bruce turn off his phone. He leaned forward enough to catch sight of his face just to make sure, and lo and behold, John was asleep. The wrinkles and worry lines completely smoothed out, leaving his face looking almost porcelain perfect. His mouth slightly open to let out his breathes, but thankfully he wasn't drooling. It was odd seeing him like this, so calm (and quiet), his usual energy sucked out of him. Bruce couldn't help the smile on his face, and to be honest, he didn't put up much of a fight.

He felt he should take his leave now, but there was a problem; he couldn't move. John's head was resting peacefully on Bruce's shoulder and he didn't want to risk waking him up. He didn't know how heavy of a sleeper John was, and honestly until now, Bruce imagined the guy ran on energy drinks or something. He didn't want to get John halfway in bed only for the man to wake up and continue watching cartoons all night. Or worse, feel betrayed that Bruce was leaving him alone.

That was another thing, Bruce just didn't have the heart to leave. He can't leave John alone right now, not without Harley here. God knows what he'd do if he woke up to no Harley, no Bruce, just Bane and Freeze. He's not sure who he's worried for the most.

With his mind made up, Bruce pockets his phone and decides to get comfortable, as best he can. He shuffles on the bed just enough to get the blood circling in his thighs and butt again, but not enough to disturb John's slumber. Bruce leans his head back only to realize there was nothing behind him, just a window, which was essentially just a hole in the wall. He switches to letting his head drop forward, resting his chin on his chest, but he can already feel his neck seizing up.

Bruce sighs and just decides to go for the obvious. He leans to the side, resting his head on top of John's. His nostrils are seized by whatever the hell John uses as shampoo. It smells acidic, chemically but also sweet, almost fruity. It's soothing in a sour sort of way.

He tries to ignore it, along with the voices outside the house. He tries to get his mind to go blank, but various images, various familiar faces flash behind his eyelids. He's used to it. The images don't stop but they become tolerable, the noises around him become more and more distant as he slips into unconsciousness.

Just as Bruce is feeling close to weightlessness, his dreams beckoning to him, he feels something loop around his pinky finger.

And just like that, his mind is silent.