Test Patterns
Title: Test Patterns
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Character: Batman
Prompt: #4 - inertia
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bruce Wayne gives himself a full physical.
A/N: This is an older story I reworked a little for the challenge prompt. Apologies to those who have already read this.
Test Patterns
It was the second Sunday of the third month, which meant that today was test day.
He always gave himself a full physical: chest, head and leg X-rays, a CAT-scan, joint and reflex testing, urine, stool and blood analysis. Every three months, like clockwork, he turned his full concentration and powers of observation on his own body, and the results were often sobering but never surprising. New scars were cataloged, strange pain rooted to the source, and the gradual deterioration of his bones, muscles and tendons were all carefully recorded.
He remained dispassionate about the endeavor, trying to devise an algorithm that would more precisely calculate how long he had left. Another five years, perhaps, at this rate. Five years before his body gave out. He knew his knees would go first: there was too much scar tissue forming around the kneecaps to deny it. Arthritis had begun to set in around his fingers and wrists; it had become progressively harder to coax them to movement over the last several months. And the last X-ray had revealed one of his ribs, previously shattered by the butt of a .45, had failed to heal properly. It explained the recent difficulty of breathing.
“Sir?”
Alfred, returning with more results. Alfred always assisted, or Leslie. They were dependable that way.
“Analysis?”
Alfred seemed paler than usual. His faithful manservant, his friend and confidant, too, was getting older, his body growing weaker moment by moment. Someday Alfred would die. But perhaps the parlor of his skin wasn’t related to his age.
“Sir, the blood work…”
“Leave it,” he ordered, hoping off the medical bed, the sudden movement making some of the bats in the cave above his head take anxious flight. The instinct of self-preservation.
Alfred did as he requested, setting down a tray bearing a test-tube full of blood. The tube was weighing down a sheet of computer printout. The chemical analysis of what was running through his veins.
He looked at the printout, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Sir…” Alfred tried again. He didn’t respond. “There may be some mistake-”
“No mistake,” he replied softly. He remembered it, now, although it had happened so many months ago. A fight in a crack house near Sheldon Park, the junkies hopped up on something new, something that induced hallucinations and violent behavior. One of them jabbed a needle into his thigh, chemical strength forcing the tip through layers of Kevlar and Nomex to penetrate his skin.
He remembered, now.
“It’s in its viral stage now, sir. You may not develop the full-blown disease for a long while. And there is a drug cocktail-”
“I’m aware of the treatments,” he said, staring at the white printout. This was certainly unexpected. He had never accounted for this kind of possibility, and that was stupid of him. Stupid and…
“I’d like to be alone.”
Alfred took a step back, opening his mouth to speak but deciding that it was perhaps better that he remain silent. Alfred would outlive him, he realized. So would the others.
The thought came as a relief.
*************************
1.Birth
2.Loss
3.Ends Justify The Means
4. Inertia
5.Syzygy
6.Theory
7.Both Sides
8.Faith
9.Orientation
10.Time
11.Extrinsic
12. 6th Sense
13.Love Beyond Desire
14.Parallel
15.Infinity
16.God
17.Lack of God
18.And if the answer is no / can I change your mind?
19.Caught in the form of limitation.
20.Reflection
Fandom: Batman (comics)
Character: Batman
Prompt: #4 - inertia
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bruce Wayne gives himself a full physical.
A/N: This is an older story I reworked a little for the challenge prompt. Apologies to those who have already read this.
Test Patterns
It was the second Sunday of the third month, which meant that today was test day.
He always gave himself a full physical: chest, head and leg X-rays, a CAT-scan, joint and reflex testing, urine, stool and blood analysis. Every three months, like clockwork, he turned his full concentration and powers of observation on his own body, and the results were often sobering but never surprising. New scars were cataloged, strange pain rooted to the source, and the gradual deterioration of his bones, muscles and tendons were all carefully recorded.
He remained dispassionate about the endeavor, trying to devise an algorithm that would more precisely calculate how long he had left. Another five years, perhaps, at this rate. Five years before his body gave out. He knew his knees would go first: there was too much scar tissue forming around the kneecaps to deny it. Arthritis had begun to set in around his fingers and wrists; it had become progressively harder to coax them to movement over the last several months. And the last X-ray had revealed one of his ribs, previously shattered by the butt of a .45, had failed to heal properly. It explained the recent difficulty of breathing.
“Sir?”
Alfred, returning with more results. Alfred always assisted, or Leslie. They were dependable that way.
“Analysis?”
Alfred seemed paler than usual. His faithful manservant, his friend and confidant, too, was getting older, his body growing weaker moment by moment. Someday Alfred would die. But perhaps the parlor of his skin wasn’t related to his age.
“Sir, the blood work…”
“Leave it,” he ordered, hoping off the medical bed, the sudden movement making some of the bats in the cave above his head take anxious flight. The instinct of self-preservation.
Alfred did as he requested, setting down a tray bearing a test-tube full of blood. The tube was weighing down a sheet of computer printout. The chemical analysis of what was running through his veins.
He looked at the printout, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Sir…” Alfred tried again. He didn’t respond. “There may be some mistake-”
“No mistake,” he replied softly. He remembered it, now, although it had happened so many months ago. A fight in a crack house near Sheldon Park, the junkies hopped up on something new, something that induced hallucinations and violent behavior. One of them jabbed a needle into his thigh, chemical strength forcing the tip through layers of Kevlar and Nomex to penetrate his skin.
He remembered, now.
“It’s in its viral stage now, sir. You may not develop the full-blown disease for a long while. And there is a drug cocktail-”
“I’m aware of the treatments,” he said, staring at the white printout. This was certainly unexpected. He had never accounted for this kind of possibility, and that was stupid of him. Stupid and…
“I’d like to be alone.”
Alfred took a step back, opening his mouth to speak but deciding that it was perhaps better that he remain silent. Alfred would outlive him, he realized. So would the others.
The thought came as a relief.
*************************
1.Birth
2.Loss
3.Ends Justify The Means
4. Inertia
5.Syzygy
6.Theory
7.Both Sides
8.Faith
9.Orientation
10.Time
11.Extrinsic
12. 6th Sense
13.Love Beyond Desire
14.Parallel
15.Infinity
16.God
17.Lack of God
18.And if the answer is no / can I change your mind?
19.Caught in the form of limitation.
20.Reflection