Fic: I Can't Be Your Hero [2/2]
Title: I Can't Be Your Hero [2/2]
Word Count: 1,372
Rating: PG
Fandom: Batman (The Dark Knight Rises)
Characters: Bruce Wayne/John Blake
Summary: When Blake arrives at Wayne Manor following a tragic loss, Bruce is forced to realise that he can't always be a hero.
Warning: minor language, kissing
Notes: I'm not as proud of this sequel but here you go. Part one is here.
Never let it be personal.
That was the lesson Bruce Wayne had learnt eight years ago when The Joker had taken his whole life away from him. And yet here he was, surrounded by nineteen henchmen that he couldn't take. He'd come looking for Bane, for revenge on Tyler Blake but Bane was too clever. This wasn't to be their meeting, not yet, not when Bane wasn't ready. Instead he fought his way steadily through brute after brute, but it seemed that no matter how many he took down more arrived.
He was vaguely aware of the screech of car tyres on the road bellow. Probably police in another attempt to take down the vigilante. Just what he needed. The moment of distraction was less that a second, but it was enough. A foot caught the back of his knee, sent him tumbling to the floor. He was quick in getting back to his feet, but not quite quick enough. Before he was really sure how it had happened he was on his knees again, a firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place as he was forced to lean over the edge of the rooftop.
Knowing what was coming, Bruce had time to brace himself as he was thrown over the edge. Flight was not an option, wing components damaged in the fight. If he landed correctly he might avoid the worst of the damage. He'd just have to hope Alfred was available to come and rescue him.
His knees took the worst of the jolt. He felt one kneecap break even as he rolled to his side to lesson the impact. He gritted his teeth against a cry of pain as the force of his fall jolted his whole body, head knocking against the ground. Bruce thought he heard a cry, though his head was too fuzzy to be sure. He could definitely make out the laughter of the cronies on the rooftop - it had to be one of them that came down the ally towards him now, ready to take him to Bane to be finished off. Struggling to his knees was painful, but Bruce just about managed it. A few deep and careful breaths to steady himself before he attempted to stand properly. He managed it after a moment, poised to strike the figure advancing on him when a wave of dizziness washed over him and sent him stumbling forward.
To Bruce's amazement, his pursuer caught him. Caught him carefully and held him up with a gentle pressure, not the rough grip and drag that he had been expecting. His head was clearing once more as he was sat against the ally's wall. Gun shots sounded from close by. After a moment he realised that whomever had caught him was shooting at the henchmen on the roof. Cries of pain told him that at least three were hit. Another wave of wooziness shook him, leaving him feeling sick and disorientated. He thought he felt hands on his shoulders, a warm and firm pressure along his side and a murmur of his name. He real name. And then he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Bruce woke it was at home in Wayne Manor with the blankets tucked tight around him. A glass of water and two small tablets sat on the bedside cabinet. Slowly he pulled himself into a sitting position, looking around for his faithful butler who was always there to pick him up whenever he fell. Instead he was greeted by a small form curled up in the soft armchair in the corner of the room. John Blake appeared to be fast asleep, still in his police uniform. The digital clock by his bed informed Bruce that two days had passed since he fell from the rooftop. Carefully he got to his feet, dragging a blanket from his bed to drape over the young man before he hobbled slowly to his en suite to shower.
He stood under the warm spray for a long time, feeling life flow back into his bruised and beaten body, washing away the dirt and grime of Gotham City's ally ways. As he washed he thought. He had not seen John Blake in the nine days since his brother had died. The police officer had been gone when Bruce had woken the morning after, Alfred claimed the guest bedroom had been empty when he'd taken breakfast for Blake at eight am.
Bruce half hoped that the same would be true when he exited the bathroom. However as he walked back into the bedroom, a towel around his waist, it was to see the young policeman awake and alert, looking intently back at him.
"You shouldn't be up."
"I'm fine. I've had worse."
"You were out cold for nearly three days."
"I've had worse."
An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. Bruce took clothes from his wardrobe back into the bathroom to dress. When he exited once more, John was standing with his arms folded in waiting. When he spoke his voice was no longer accusing.
"You were out there for Tyler."
"Yes."
"They could have killed you."
"A lot of people try that."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"I promised you I'd avenge him."
"You'd have died if I hadn't..."
"Thank you."
Blake nodded. Bruce swallowed, unable to forget the heated kiss. It was wrong, completely wrong. Blake was a kid, barely over twenty. He was suffering some messed up hero complex. Batman was his childhood hero and he had to learn that Bruce Wayne couldn't live up to that. Bruce Wayne was just a man, a crippled man with too much money and no life. He shook his head.
"You shouldn't be here kid."
"Somebody had to look after you."
"Alfred does that."
"He didn't mind." For the first time, John Blake smiled. Bruce had the distinct impression that Alfred had something to do with this.
"I'm okay now."
Blake shrugged, shuffled uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry... about the other week."
"It's okay."
"No it isn't. Why?"
"Why what?"
"Wouldn't you? If it's because I'm a guy, that's fine, obviously. You should just have said." Blake ran a hand through his hair, looking away.
"That's not my problem, John."
"Then what? I know I'm young but I'm not a kid. I'm old enough to know what I want."
"This isn't what you want." Bruce tried, he really tried to keep his voice gentle. He hadn't had to talk to anybody like this in a very long time. He didn't want to hurt the young man. "Batman is your hero, you respect him. Maybe you even love him in a way. But I'm not Batman. Batman is a symbol. It doesn't matter that he uses my body. I'll do everything I can to make sure he doesn't let you down but I'm not him, I'm not your hero. I'm just... a guy with too much time on my hands, too much money and a huge ego. I'm sorry."
Blake laughed. Really laughed, a deep, pleasant noise.
"You think that's what this is about? Batman is my hero. He's been my hero since I was a kid but... but so have you. Bruce Wayne, a man just like me. You lost your parents but you came back. You had money and power and you used it for good. I knew you were behind the mask but even without it you funded my home, you spent money on clean energy and just about every other good cause. You are a hero. I had a ridiculous crush on you when I was growing up and then... then I came here and I don't know why I did, but you were so nice to me and that sealed it. You were every bit as good as I liked to think you are and I couldn't not."
Silence stretched between them for a minute and then, just as suddenly as last time, Blake was there. His movements were slower this time, more cautious and unsure as to whether or not his words had made a difference.
With a gentle kiss Bruce let him know that they had.
Word Count: 1,372
Rating: PG
Fandom: Batman (The Dark Knight Rises)
Characters: Bruce Wayne/John Blake
Summary: When Blake arrives at Wayne Manor following a tragic loss, Bruce is forced to realise that he can't always be a hero.
Warning: minor language, kissing
Notes: I'm not as proud of this sequel but here you go. Part one is here.
Never let it be personal.
That was the lesson Bruce Wayne had learnt eight years ago when The Joker had taken his whole life away from him. And yet here he was, surrounded by nineteen henchmen that he couldn't take. He'd come looking for Bane, for revenge on Tyler Blake but Bane was too clever. This wasn't to be their meeting, not yet, not when Bane wasn't ready. Instead he fought his way steadily through brute after brute, but it seemed that no matter how many he took down more arrived.
He was vaguely aware of the screech of car tyres on the road bellow. Probably police in another attempt to take down the vigilante. Just what he needed. The moment of distraction was less that a second, but it was enough. A foot caught the back of his knee, sent him tumbling to the floor. He was quick in getting back to his feet, but not quite quick enough. Before he was really sure how it had happened he was on his knees again, a firm hand on the back of his neck keeping him in place as he was forced to lean over the edge of the rooftop.
Knowing what was coming, Bruce had time to brace himself as he was thrown over the edge. Flight was not an option, wing components damaged in the fight. If he landed correctly he might avoid the worst of the damage. He'd just have to hope Alfred was available to come and rescue him.
His knees took the worst of the jolt. He felt one kneecap break even as he rolled to his side to lesson the impact. He gritted his teeth against a cry of pain as the force of his fall jolted his whole body, head knocking against the ground. Bruce thought he heard a cry, though his head was too fuzzy to be sure. He could definitely make out the laughter of the cronies on the rooftop - it had to be one of them that came down the ally towards him now, ready to take him to Bane to be finished off. Struggling to his knees was painful, but Bruce just about managed it. A few deep and careful breaths to steady himself before he attempted to stand properly. He managed it after a moment, poised to strike the figure advancing on him when a wave of dizziness washed over him and sent him stumbling forward.
To Bruce's amazement, his pursuer caught him. Caught him carefully and held him up with a gentle pressure, not the rough grip and drag that he had been expecting. His head was clearing once more as he was sat against the ally's wall. Gun shots sounded from close by. After a moment he realised that whomever had caught him was shooting at the henchmen on the roof. Cries of pain told him that at least three were hit. Another wave of wooziness shook him, leaving him feeling sick and disorientated. He thought he felt hands on his shoulders, a warm and firm pressure along his side and a murmur of his name. He real name. And then he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Bruce woke it was at home in Wayne Manor with the blankets tucked tight around him. A glass of water and two small tablets sat on the bedside cabinet. Slowly he pulled himself into a sitting position, looking around for his faithful butler who was always there to pick him up whenever he fell. Instead he was greeted by a small form curled up in the soft armchair in the corner of the room. John Blake appeared to be fast asleep, still in his police uniform. The digital clock by his bed informed Bruce that two days had passed since he fell from the rooftop. Carefully he got to his feet, dragging a blanket from his bed to drape over the young man before he hobbled slowly to his en suite to shower.
He stood under the warm spray for a long time, feeling life flow back into his bruised and beaten body, washing away the dirt and grime of Gotham City's ally ways. As he washed he thought. He had not seen John Blake in the nine days since his brother had died. The police officer had been gone when Bruce had woken the morning after, Alfred claimed the guest bedroom had been empty when he'd taken breakfast for Blake at eight am.
Bruce half hoped that the same would be true when he exited the bathroom. However as he walked back into the bedroom, a towel around his waist, it was to see the young policeman awake and alert, looking intently back at him.
"You shouldn't be up."
"I'm fine. I've had worse."
"You were out cold for nearly three days."
"I've had worse."
An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. Bruce took clothes from his wardrobe back into the bathroom to dress. When he exited once more, John was standing with his arms folded in waiting. When he spoke his voice was no longer accusing.
"You were out there for Tyler."
"Yes."
"They could have killed you."
"A lot of people try that."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"I promised you I'd avenge him."
"You'd have died if I hadn't..."
"Thank you."
Blake nodded. Bruce swallowed, unable to forget the heated kiss. It was wrong, completely wrong. Blake was a kid, barely over twenty. He was suffering some messed up hero complex. Batman was his childhood hero and he had to learn that Bruce Wayne couldn't live up to that. Bruce Wayne was just a man, a crippled man with too much money and no life. He shook his head.
"You shouldn't be here kid."
"Somebody had to look after you."
"Alfred does that."
"He didn't mind." For the first time, John Blake smiled. Bruce had the distinct impression that Alfred had something to do with this.
"I'm okay now."
Blake shrugged, shuffled uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry... about the other week."
"It's okay."
"No it isn't. Why?"
"Why what?"
"Wouldn't you? If it's because I'm a guy, that's fine, obviously. You should just have said." Blake ran a hand through his hair, looking away.
"That's not my problem, John."
"Then what? I know I'm young but I'm not a kid. I'm old enough to know what I want."
"This isn't what you want." Bruce tried, he really tried to keep his voice gentle. He hadn't had to talk to anybody like this in a very long time. He didn't want to hurt the young man. "Batman is your hero, you respect him. Maybe you even love him in a way. But I'm not Batman. Batman is a symbol. It doesn't matter that he uses my body. I'll do everything I can to make sure he doesn't let you down but I'm not him, I'm not your hero. I'm just... a guy with too much time on my hands, too much money and a huge ego. I'm sorry."
Blake laughed. Really laughed, a deep, pleasant noise.
"You think that's what this is about? Batman is my hero. He's been my hero since I was a kid but... but so have you. Bruce Wayne, a man just like me. You lost your parents but you came back. You had money and power and you used it for good. I knew you were behind the mask but even without it you funded my home, you spent money on clean energy and just about every other good cause. You are a hero. I had a ridiculous crush on you when I was growing up and then... then I came here and I don't know why I did, but you were so nice to me and that sealed it. You were every bit as good as I liked to think you are and I couldn't not."
Silence stretched between them for a minute and then, just as suddenly as last time, Blake was there. His movements were slower this time, more cautious and unsure as to whether or not his words had made a difference.
With a gentle kiss Bruce let him know that they had.