With Every Heartbeat • Bale!Bruce Wayne x f!Gordon!reader (Chapter VI)
Requested: No
Pairing: Bale!Bruce Wayne x f!reader
Story's synopsis: When y/n Gordon learned her billionaire boyfriend was also a vigilante at night a year ago, she knew it could be dangerous for her. But she listened to her heart and decided to choose to be happy with the man of her dreams. And after all, Bruce and her had agreed to keep their relationship secret - for her sake. But when the wrong person understands her closeness to Gotham’s protector, the reality of how cruel and mad some people are comes running back, and all is left to do is holding on. For as long as one’s heart beats.
Word count: 2.8 K
Warnings: Facial scars; PTSD; ansgt; fluff
A/N: Please don't let this flop 😭 I apologise for any mistake/typo. I also posted an OC version on Ao3 here. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. GIF IS NOT MINE.
Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus
Tag list for this story: @deadofnight0
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A year and a half ago
The sky was blue above Gotham when you parked your car in front of Wayne Manor. Stepping out, you observed the beautiful edifice, wondering what secrets it was keeping ever since it had been built, before walking to the large door and knocking. A few minutes later, Alfred opened it with a greeting nod.
“Morning, Alfred.”
“Hello, Miss Gordon. Master Wayne told me we were expecting you. However I’m deeply sorry to say, he is not available at the moment. But I can promise you, he will call you as soon as he can.”
You frowned, now worried. “Is everything alright? Is Bruce okay?”
Alfred nodded, “Yes, Miss, thank you. Please, do not worry.”
Little did Alfred know that this was exactly the kind of sentence that worried you. Your father and brother had both always tried to shield you from their work, and you now always knew when someone was trying to do that.
“Alfred, I-”, you sighed. “I know Bruce and I haven’t been dating for very long, but please. If something has happened, I wish to know.”
Alfred hesitated, probably measuring your sincerity, before standing aside to let you in.
“Very well.”
You came in and Alfred led you through corridors to Bruce’s bedroom. He opened the door, invited you in first, and as you came into the room, you immediately saw the figure in the large bed. Bruce was apparently asleep, wearing a white shirt under the covers. You almost immediately walked closer, and realised how pale he looked. His hair was a bit tousled and his forehead was shiny, as if he was sweating.
“Is he sick?” you asked, your hand on Bruce’s forehead - a bit warm and sweaty.
“Yes, Miss,” Alfred answered after a second, walking towards you.
“How come? He seemed fine the last time I saw him.”
Your hand left Bruce’s forehead but your fingers instinctively started stroking his cheek gently.
“Has he been like this for long?” you turned to Alfred. “Has he woken up or eaten at all?”
“Since last night, Miss. And no, he hasn’t woken up or eaten since.”
“Would you mind if I stayed here to look after him?”
You had no idea why, but the concept of just leaving him here and waiting for him to reach you was impossible. You trusted Alfred, but wanted to be here and care for him.
“Not at all, Miss. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”
You had a small smile, “Yes, thank you.”
You then looked at Bruce, still deeply asleep. The few times you two had shared a bed, you had been awake before him and had the opportunity to see how boyish, peaceful and vulnerable he looked in his sleep, as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted off his shoulders. But he hadn't been pale and feverous like he was now. Maybe Bruce was really sick, but something in you told you there was something else that Alfred was keeping from you. Had Bruce been poisoned? Or had he taken drugs without realizing it? You knew he would never knowingly take such things, but maybe he had been in one of those clubs filled with rich people and drugs?
You continued stroking your boyfriend’s cheek with your thumb before turning your head towards Alfred, who was near the door.
“Alfred?”
“Yes, Miss?”
You let out a deep breath, “He’s not sick, is he? There is something else.”
The butler had a small smile. “You are very intelligent, Miss.”
*-*
You woke up when you felt the bed shift. The bedroom was plunged into darkness and silence, so you immediately knew it was probably the middle of the night.
“Sorry,” Bruce whispered in the dark, laying down next to you under the covers. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
After learning Bruce was Batman the day after his birthday, you had had trouble sleeping because of how worried you were about him - despite knowing how strong he was, you still worried he would bleed out in an alley somewhere in the Narrows - and had stayed awake numerous times waiting for him to send you a text assuring you he was okay and had returned home - or, when you had slept at his penthouse, had waited for him in the bed and cared for his injuries, whether it was cuts or stitches, when needed. However, the little sleep you got during those nights eventually led to you being exhausted, especially at work, and you waiting for him to be okay to fall asleep became rarer and Bruce had made you promise to stop waiting for him when the two of you started living together at the penthouse.
“It’s okay,” you said in a sleepy voice, positioning yourself on one elbow. “Are you hurt?”
Have you caught him?
“I’m fine.” He put an arm around your waist before pulling you close as you laid back down. “Go back to sleep.”
Your head resting on his bare chest, you could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear. Feeling your body relax like it usually did when he held you,you brought your hand to the back of his head to stroke his soft hair gently.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
“You’re not missing much,” Vicki’s voice was almost bored. “The author who had agreed to come do a signing here next month called to cancel - family emergency, apparently. He said he’d call back to let us know when he can come. But you and I both know what that means.”
“True,” you nodded with a small sigh.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go back to work,” Vicki said. “But I’ll call you soon, alright? Take care, y/n.”
Maybe I should go back to work, too, you thought. You loved the peace and quiet of the house, but you were starting to miss the library and your colleagues. And you wondered how your salary would be impacted by your absence. All of a sudden, a knock on the door made you jump. Leaving the couch, you walked to the window and spotted your mother’s familiar old, dark blue car outside. Alfred went to open the entrance door and a few seconds later, your mother entered the living room, her arms already open for you.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi, mom.”
Your mother hugged you tightly - you tried not to think about how you had thought you might never see your mother again while you were kidnapped - before observing you up and down.
“Honey, you’re all skin and bones. Are you eating enough?”
“Yes, mom,” you nodded patiently.
You both sat on the couch and Alfred brought tea. You noticed your mother looked slightly more tired than usual but also had a bit of sadness in her eyes despite her smile.
“You okay, mom?” you asked, mug in hand.
“Oh, yes, yes,” your mother assured with a smile. “Just a bit tired from work, don’t worry.”
“Mom. I’m not a child. It’s dad, isn’t it?”
Your mother sighed and lowered her eyes, tucking a piece of red hair behind her ear.
.
“Let’s just say our relationship is a bit worse than usual at the moment,” she shrugged with a sad smile. “It got slightly better when he and your brother were looking for you, but now…” She sighed and slightly shook her head, closing her eyes before looking at you again. “But don’t worry about us, honey. Just focus on recovering.”
At this moment, Bruce entered the room. Your mother, affectionate as always, got up from the couch to hug him and you couldn’t help but smile at Bruce hugging her back awkwardly.
“Nice to see you, Bruce.”
“You, too, Barbara.”
He sat next to you, a hand on your knee, and feeling it comforted you a little. Your mother left an hour later after having you promise to come have dinner at the apartment.
“She’s sad,” you said as both Bruce and you watched your mother’s car going down the gravel path through the window. “It’s getting worse with my father again,” you sighed and ran a hand on your face. “I thought that if they were still together after years of tensions, that meant there still was… some hope left for them.”
Your parents had basically stopped getting along when you were a teenager - the reasons were multiple: your mother’s anxiety over her husband’s work and the fact that James wanted to do the exact same thing, your father’s lack of comprehension and patience over his wife’s anxiety and James often getting in trouble at school. Your mother worked as a midwife at the hospital - which was made possible because your grandmother watched you and James when needed. Years later, right after high school, James went to the police academy and left the family house as soon as he could, leaving you alone with two parents who worked most of the time. Back then, the official version was that your mother worked because they needed money and because your mother loved her job. It had made things financially better - as your father’s salary wasn’t high - but also bad relationship-wise. But now, you wondered whether your parents barely spending time together because of their respective stressful, tiring work had deepened the tension between them, or if it was just a case of two high school sweethearts who had two children very early - at nineteen and twenty-one respectively - getting together too young and falling out of love after nearly three decades of marriage.
“At least if they divorce now,” you said with a dry laugh, “James and I won’t have to decide who to live with. Actually, if we’re being honest, it’s a miracle they’re still married.”
Bruce brought a hand to your hair, caressing it. Alfred then came back with the mail both Bruce and you got at the penthouse - Bruce had several, mostly Wayne Enterprises related, and you had only one. It was from the hospital, and you immediately knew what it was: a bill.
Too bad the hospital doesn't give employees’ children a discount. And too bad I never thought of including “facial scars done by a clown maniac” in my health insurance. Shaking your head and silently sighing, you opened the envelope. Let’s just hope the public employee status covers some of it.
You opened the envelope, took out the paper and read it. It was not exactly a bill, but rather a receipt - one that said that you had nothing to pay. Your insurance and public employee status got nearly all the bills covered and the rest was covered by the victim compensation program. You read the paper up and down several times, but the last line was the same every time: Total cost: $0. You blinked twice, still in disbelief, before walking to Bruce and showing him the paper.
“Look.”
He looked at the paper, one hand still in his pocket, apparently not understanding your reaction.
“There must be something wrong,” you explained. “I didn’t know my insurance covered so much, and I didn’t even know I was eligible for the victim compensation program.”
“I think your father filled some papers while you were at the hospital. And they usually need the victim’s testimony but your father wrote that you did give it to him and his colleagues.”
“I didn’t, though,” you frowned. “When they came to talk to me, you stopped them from entering the room.”
Bruce nodded and shrugged, “You weren’t in condition to see them. And your father remembered he was not only a cop but, well, your father, too.”
He then turned to you, bringing his hand on your cheek, which startled you a little bit.
“Even if you did have something to pay, I would have paid for it.”
“Bruce-”
“I mean it. Both because it still happened because of me and because I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you smiled, putting your hand on Bruce’s.
He leaned to kiss your forehead and you closed your eyes and smiled, still enjoying the new habit he had taken ever since you got back. However, when Bruce started pulling away, you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the mouth - which the two of you hadn’t done since before your abduction. Bruce was surprised but kissed you back, and when you both pulled away, you were both smiling shyly like awkward teenagers in love sharing their first awkward as well kiss.
“I missed that”, you whispered.
“Me too.”
You two agreed to watch TV after, both of them laying on the couch with their legs tangled and your head on Bruce’s chest, in a comfortable silence. When a scene of the show you were watching had a scene about the main character going out for the first time after surviving something terrible, it made you realize you couldn’t stay hidden in the country house or even the penthouse you and Bruce planned to return to forever. Eventually, you’d have to go out, go back to work, and live as normally as possible.
“I’ll have to do the same thing,” you said.
“Do what?” Bruce asked.
“Going out. Get back to work. I can’t stay hidden here forever.”
Bruce remained silent for a second. “I guess so. But there’s no rush.” He waited a second before continuing, “Aren’t you…scared to go out?”
You didn’t answer. All of a sudden, images of people laughing at you, exchanging cruel whispers and looking at you with a disgusting expression as you simply were walking around Gotham appeared in your mind.
“Yes.”
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The next day, you gave your mother a phone call, and since she luckily had an off day, she agreed to meet for coffee in a café you both liked - and maybe even take a walk in Gotham’s parks. And one hour later, the two of you were there, walking down the street, your mother’s arm linked with yours to support you, both emotionally and physically. As you walked towards the café, you kept her head down at first, but your mother repeated to you that everything was fine. You felt very nervous, as if you were passing an oral exam - which had always terrified you as a student - and kept glancing at people to know if they stared at you in a disgusted or scared manner. You did get some frowns and awkward, not so discreet stares as you and your mother approached the café, but no one screamed or laughed, which was more than you had hoped for.
Once they were inside the café, which was luckily almost empty, you and your mother sat at a table and ordered, and you couldn’t help but to constantly look through the window and around the room, this time not checking for people’s mean stares but instead for a clown dressed in purple jumping out of nowhere to take you again or simply kill you this time.
“y/n, honey, relax,” your mother said with a compassionate smile as well as a firm yet gentle tone. “You’re safe. The ring works, doesn’t it?”
You lowered her gaze and instinctively touched the black, discreet ring you had on one of her fingers. Bruce had given it to you before you had left the house earlier, and while it looked ordinary, it actually contained a localisation device in case Bruce needed to know where you were. It was supposed to make you feel more safe while out of the house, but it hadn’t worked as much as it supposed to.
“It’s a lovely ring, by the way,” your mother commented.
You nodded as the waiter came with the two ordered coffees. “It is.”
“Maybe a golden one will arrive on your other finger soon,” your mother teased, taking a sip from her coffee.
“Don’t start.”
“What?” your mother had a small laugh. “Bruce is a nice guy, and it’s obvious he sincerely loves you. To be honest with you, I hadn’t expected him to be so shaken at the hospital. He always seems so serious and…broody.”
You had a half-smile, drinking your own coffee. “I guess he is.”
“It’s only natural that you two start thinking about marriage,” your mother continued.
“Mom, we’ve only been dating for a year and a half,” you said, slightly shaking your head. “It’s a bit too soon.”
“Your father and I started dating when we were seventeen and got married at nineteen,” your mother shrugged, both hands around her cup.
“Only because you got pregnant with James,” you retorted, not having it. You were almost surprised the two of you were actually talking about it, because it never happened before. “Sometimes, I feel like you two wouldn’t have gotten married if you hadn't had him so soon.”
Your mother kept silent, looking away with a pout. “I guess that’s a reasonable thought.” She sighed and looked back at you, “But, y/n, Bruce isn’t like your father. I’m sure of it. Do what you want and follow your heart, but you have nothing to fear by thinking of Bruce as the man you can spend the rest of your life with.”
I sure as hell hope I’m not, you thought, because that’s exactly what I'm already thinking.
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