( open-ish ) dedicate and sacrifice my everything

[batsymbol]

Who: Bruce Wayne/Batman batsymbol
What: catch-all for the month, largely time travel and event focused
When: Throughout September
Where: Primarily the past
Content Warnings: TBD but let's just say Bruce being Bruce and Batman being Batman.

open to both [brackets] and prose, i'll follow your lead if you have a preference. if you want something else with bruce or bats, shoot me a PM or PP at telekinetics to discuss. otherwise things we've planned/discussed can be dropped in here as well. starters in comments.

Comments

[avatarfortruth]

Are Kal and I – ?

[ As his meaning becomes clear, she can't help it: she laughs, bright and unfettered. Not unkindly; it's out of sheer surprise, only. ]

No. No. He's one of my best friends.

[ There had been something, there at the beginning, but his choice was always, always going to be someone else. ]

He's married to a lovely – and brilliant – woman. You've heard her name, actually: Lois Lane.

[batsymbol]

( it's lois. lois lane. she's the key. kyle had said she was someone close to superman, but... married. his wife. that's certainly a lot closer than originally thought. something to chew on later when he's not in bed like this. with diana so close to him. still holding to her hand.

there's an ever-so-faint look that could be considered sheepish there on bruce's face as he looks away for a moment, clearing his throat before he swallows. )

Well— that's... closer than I originally thought.

[avatarfortruth]

[ Her smile flashes again at his awkwardness. ]

I suppose they might not be together in every universe that has a Lois and a Superman, but it's difficult to imagine a world in which they aren't.

[batsymbol]

( he doesn't have much in the way of thoughts concerning that, what with his not knowing superman or kal as she calls him. maybe one day he will. maybe he won't. maybe he'll just be stuck here in the 80s of this world that isn't his own and has no gotham for him to disappear within. rather than think much about that, he stretches some there on the bed — stretches a leg out, the other bent at the knee, and lets go of a breath, allowing himself to visibly relax a little more. almost as if that answer had allowed him to. )

I suppose in this world, anything's possible.

[avatarfortruth]

It seems that way.

[ She isn't with Kal. But she also hasn't thought about Tom much at all since she'd arrived here, which worries a little nugget of guilt down into her gut. Nothing has happened between them, and she's not certain it ever will, but he's there, lying in a hospital bed. No doubt expecting her to come.

And she's here. Her fingers laced with Bruce's.

Anything's possible. ]

Is there anything else you want to know?

[batsymbol]

( the lull of the murmuring voices from the television is enough to have eyes fall shut, yet he leans in some, nose brushing against hers and the sound he makes is low in the back of his throat — a hum, for all intents and purposes. )

Yeah. ( word soft. ) But it can wait.

[avatarfortruth]

[ Her eyes close, just for a moment, before she untangles their fingers, sets her hand lightly on his chest, feeling the slow beat of his heart against her palm. Her voice is a low murmur, just above the sound of the television. The scent of olive oil and white grapes lifting from the waves of her hair as some falls over her shoulder. ]

You should sleep, Bruce.

[batsymbol]

( to say he's not tired would be a bold-faced lie. his body is exhausted, his mind close behind, and to be here in bed like this, within the darkness of the room and to have her here with him... how can he not want to fall asleep?

that fragrance— that scent pulls him from the shadows of sleep which slowly envelop him, and the hand that's now free lifts, fingers carding through her waves of hair, holding to her as that hum leaves him softly again. )

Eleven o'clock.

( words he mumbles before he lets his hand slip away from her and his head presses back against the pillow. for rest. for sleep. at least for a few hours. )

[avatarfortruth]

[ The low sound he makes rumbles through his chest, vibrates against her palm, and she smiles, pressing her forehead lightly against his temple as he lies back, as his fingers run lazily through her hair. ]

Eleven o'clock.

[ A quietly-made promise she intends to keep.

As his hand falls away from her and he relaxes into the pillow, she shifts close enough to keep her hand where it is, steady and warm on his chest. A reminder that he isn't alone. Her voice the murmur of midnight waves on sand. ]

Sleep.