Title: Every Night (I Save You)
Fandom: Batman (Nolanverse)
Characters/Pairings: Bruce Wayne/Batman
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 682
Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman.
Notes: Gracious thanks to my dear beta readers,
olde_fashioned &
someplacetobe.
Summary: Every night, he saves them.
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In those first nights after their murders, Bruce’s dreams revolve around his parents and all the endings that might have been.
Some nights, the Waynes stay inside the opera house until the curtain call. The gruesome bat-men in the second act still make Bruce’s heart race, but he keeps his eyes tightly closed while they are on stage and never asks to leave. When the curtain falls, he exits out of the brightly-lit front doors with his parents and the rest of the crowd. On the ride home, he leans against his father’s arm as the constant motion of the train lulls him to sleep.
Other nights, Bruce fakes a fever and his parents go to the opera without him. Alfred eyes him with suspicion but says nothing; he brings him ice pops and keeps him in bed. Bruce spends the rest of the night under the covers with a book and is fast asleep by the time his parents come home; they peek in at him before tiptoeing to bed themselves.
Most nights, Bruce convinces his parents to stay home. They spend the night sitting on the floor playing Monopoly while his father tells them colorful stories about his patients at the hospital. They stay up until the fire dies out and Bruce can barely keep his eyes open. His mother brushes the hair away from his eyes; his father scoops him up and carries him to bed.
Every night, the Wayne family ends up home together, safe and sound.
Upon waking, Bruce often forgets that his parents are gone.
These nights, he cries himself back to sleep.
Over the years, his dreams twist and bend. As a young man, they are all about Chill.
Some nights, it’s with a knife. He grips the handle tight and throws every bit of his weight behind it. He rams the blade deep into the man’s belly and watches the blood spread, deep dark red.
Other nights, it’s with his bare hands, strong and capable hands. He reaches out and twists the neck until he feels it crunch under his fingers, watches intently as life leaves the man’s eyes.
Most nights, it’s a gun with its satisfying pop. He levels it and squeezes the trigger, no hesitation. Pop. Bruce watches the body hit the pavement and smiles.
Every night, Chill dies.
When Bruce wakes up from these dreams, his fists are balled tight and his head is full and pounding with adrenaline. He wakes up consumed with an anger that burns him from the inside out.
These nights, it takes him hours to fall back asleep.
As more of his waking life is spent in the shadows, on rooftops and in alleys, his constant dreams of that night begin to feel routine. For him, the nights he dreams are nights like any other, except that the people he saves are his parents and the criminal he catches is Joe Chill.
Some nights, he is Batman. He takes Chill out long before his parents step out of the building; he tracks him down and knocks him unconscious, leaves him to wake up in a side alley, scared straight with a few cracked ribs. He stays back in the shadows and watches his parents from above until they are safely on the train home.
Other nights, he is Bruce. He steps in front of his parents and disarms Chill before the gun barrel is ever pointed. Two solid punches and Chill is down for the count. He takes off his coat and wraps it around his mother and the three of them leave the alley together.
But most nights, there are no Joe Chills. The streets are clean and the Waynes make it home, safe and sound. So does everyone else in Gotham.
Every night, he saves them.
Bruce wakes up from these dreams with a calm mind but restless fingers. He wakes up filled with a determination that pulses just beneath the surface, steady as a heartbeat.
These nights, Bruce doesn’t go back to sleep at all. He gets up and gets back to work.
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