@vespectral
‘ that isn’t what i meant, ivy. ’
his mouth twists. he doesn’t like this. it’s delicate territory, like lying on a bed of nails. in all the time they’ve known each other, bruce has already flipped through the catalogue of emotions when it comes to how he perceives ivy, has tried on everything he could find. nothing has ever quite fit.
pity has never seemed appropriate. ivy would hate that. but right now, it’s the closest thing he can conjure up to a word in any language to what he feels now.
the gloved hand on her shoulder steadies her. the usual wooziness he feels from being so close doesn’t hit him, which makes him feel safe enough to wrap her arm around his shoulder.
‘ and i’m not looking to hurt you, either, ’ he isn’t affronted by the accusation, though, for more reasons than one, considering said shared history and how complicated it’s been. carefully, batman leads her down the steps of the building’s long staircases until they’re outside. no sun, not for another few hours, but the cool night air feels nice on his exposed skin. he sets her on a nearby step.
‘ i think that you can help me, that i can help you. i also think that you knew what i was going to ask from you. ’
bruce thinks about what could possibly help her, besides the sun, and whatever green they can salvage within the city’s bounds, at this point. considers her, for a moment, but doesn’t make a move to examine her beyond with what his cowl will allow as his eyes whiten while he does a cursory scan for possible internal injuries.
‘ i have chlorophyll, ’ who knew that the nasty supplements he forces down every day could be more useful than anything in his belt. at least, he hopes it will be, even if it sounds incredibly stupid when it tumbles its way out of his mouth. the modulator can’t even change that, ‘ would that help. until we find something better. ’ a pause, then, ‘ i’m sorry. about your plants. whoever did this, it’s not the first time they’ve committed an attack on this level. it is their first time attacking you, though. i suspect it’ll be the last.’
it’s not what he meant. she knows it’s not what he meant, but it’s easier to fall into these familiar antagonistic patterns than to display any more weakness than she has to. she’ll mourn later, each of the plants she tended from seed and nurtured like her own children. she believes him, though, when he says he doesn’t want to hurt her--even now, when it would be so easy. it’s more than she can say for any other man she’s met.
ivy blinks against the smoke in her eyes--it couldn’t be tears--and lets him guide her outside. the cool night air feels like a balm to her dry, singed skin, and by the time they’ve reached the bottom of the stairs she feels almost like herself.
almost. she’s still too weak to stand without leaning on him for support. he doesn’t say anything about it.
“i did,” she admits softly, brushing her hair back out of her eyes. the slightest hint of a smile curves her lips. “even you aren’t that charitable. i just wanted to hear you say it.”
she accepts the chlorophyll, fine tremors shaking her hands--it tastes foreign and unnatural like this, but it does the trick. within minutes she’s steadier, rejuvenation starting to flow through her body. now that the shock’s wearing off a little she takes stock of her own injuries, the aches and pains nearly everywhere that can only pale in comparison to what she’s lost. she lays a bare hand over his gloved one, tilting her head up to look at what she can see of his face.
“it will be the last. i can promise you that. and if you can’t make them pay your way--” a flicker of her old self. “i’ll make them pay with mine.”
