Aftercare

[ducttape_hero]

Peter and the doctors were in perfect agreement in checking Aunt May into the hospital overnight. They were in less perfect agreement about Peter himself. He was burnt, huge blisters and long red sears up both arms, with lesser blisters on his face and neck. He hadn't even felt them. He only agreed to be admitted when they promised him he'd share a

Comments

[i_own_this]

Bruce still bears the traces of last night. He's exhausted, feeling brittle. He has a hell of a bruise on his right forearm, various smaller aches and pains all over. And his face very carefully made up and clothing very carefully chosen, to downplay and conceal the heat-burn from one of the other bombs at the park.

Any other time, he wouldn't be up and about -- certainly not this early, maybe not for another few days. But the Joker is still out there, and there's business to be seen to.

It's not difficult to talk his way into Peter's room. He's very quiet and solemn at the visitor's desk, asking for discretion, please, he's a friend of the family...

[i_own_this]

Bruce nods. His head and neck protest it, and his face tightens with pain. But he keeps the smile. "Let me know what she says, then. Okay? Call me? You have my number, right...?"

In your new phone? Did you remember it well enough? Or should he remind you?

[ducttape_hero]

He blinks at Bruce, before tipping his head back as he tries to remember. "Um... yeah, I've got it. I'll call, whether she says either way."

Peter honestly doesn't know if she'll agree, right now.

"You sure you're okay?"

[i_own_this]

"Could you call me now, to be sure?" So he has your new number, you see. "Yeah. Just... you know how it is. I really shouldn't be up yet."

[ducttape_hero]

Peter nods, fishing the crappy new phone out of his pocket. Beep boop bedeedeep... beeboobeep. Wow, it makes annoying noises. But he has the number right, it seems.

[i_own_this]

Bruce grins. "Hey, there we go." He fishes the phone out of the deep pockets of his slacks, pushing the sleeve of his dark red sweater up a few inches in the process. There's a deep-looking bruise, there, peeking out for a few seconds before Bruce distractedly tugs the sleeve down.

He flips the phone open, and grins at Peter. "Gotchya."

[ducttape_hero]

That's... a pressure bruise. Peter stares at his arm even after the bruise is gone, the angle of it sticking in his mind. Huh.

"... Uh, great. Thanks. She probably won't be asleep much longer."

[i_own_this]

He smiles, pretending not to see or take worried note of Peter's staring, and pockets the phone again. "Great. Call me when you decide. And take care of yourself, okay? Yourself too, not just her."

[ducttape_hero]

"She's all I have," he points out quietly. "And be careful yourself."

[i_own_this]

"And you're all she has," he says, seriously. "See you later, Peter." And he's gone, down the hall. Texting Eddie with Peter's number and requesting that he wait, just a bit, to send anything to him. To reduce the association between himself and the new phone and Eddie.

[ducttape_hero]

Peter nods, and waves as he leaves, but Wayne isn't even to the elevator before he's back at May's bedside. And as she sleeps, he worries at the little bit of deja vu niggling at his mind. A bruise. Wayne Enterprises.

What happens to your aunt?

A bruise, a badly damaged gauntlet. Folded metal, just there...

And you're all she has.

Bruce Wayne, exhausted and sore the night after Batman dealt with... how many explosions were reported? Two or three?

Bruce Wayne, favoring his side after Batman faced the Joker and his thugs at Bruce Wayne's party.

Bruce Wayne, turning up in his life after Batman did, interested and all but invasive. After Batman ordered him to abandon the streets.

When Aunt May wakes up, Peter's still sitting there, staring at the wall open-mouthed. And it takes her a moment, just long enough to worry, to shake him out of that trance of realization.

"What? Oh, no, I'm all right, I just need to... Nothing. Did you sleep well?"