MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT story: the shadows of sinners status: published characters: Harlow & Bruce (and Alfred)
a/n: this thought of oh hey, harlowbruce is married in this universe but aren't actually together so what happens when Harlow has a tough shift at the hospital and needs some comfort and bruce is just like 🧍♀️🫣 what the fuck do I do? came to me. so we're running with it lmao.
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HARLOW FINLEY FELT LIKE THE GROUND BENEATH HER FEET WAS GOING TO CAVE IN AROUND HER. All she could hear on the polished marble flooring in Wayne Tower were the squeaks of her tennis shoes as she walked deeper into the home. Her body was exhausted, muscles tensed in ways that she never imagined muscles tensing in. The tower was cold and quiet, looking down at her watch for the time, Harlow made out the hands saying it was half past two in the morning. She knew that Bruce might not have even been there, this was prime time for the criminals of Gotham. It was his time to get to them as well. And she knew had she been home on time (almost seven hours before the time she had made it back home), she may have been able to see him again. And then everything that could go wrong, went wrong. As more patients piled into the ER, there were more surgical cases and not enough surgeons and even residents. The ER was low on staff, to the point that surgical residents found themselves filling the ER to help get patients in and out. Harlow found her hands still ached from the number of sutures she had to quickly do on people in triage. Her entire body wanted to give out, to collapse right there on the floor and wait until morning to even think about moving. But another part of her didn't want to remember what led to the blood on her scrubs, the stains on her shoes that she'll more than likely just throw out instead of even bother cleaning.
Harlow Finley had always wanted to be a doctor, that was never something she thought twice about. But nights like these, always made her question whether it was worth it. Every part of her screamed, her body ached for rest that she was far from receiving. She dropped her bag on the floor next to the table in the foyer, knowing that at some point before going up to bed she would have to put it up. Alfred would never say a thing to her about it, he would wordlessly put the purse up and go about his day, but Harlow knew better than to make him clean up after her. That wasn't what he should be worrying over, he should focus on Bruce and make sure he was okay. Not cleaning up after Bruce Wayne's pretend wife and childhood best friend who had one rough night, which she wouldn't even call rough when comparing it to what Bruce does every single night. No, her struggles were nothing compared to what Bruce is out there fighting. To the darkness, he faces on the streets of Gotham City. Bruce Wayne was definitely the one in need of comfort and help from Alfred.
Harlow Finley had made it this far on her own, she didn't need any help now.
But as she walked into the kitchen, she noticed the light and Alfred standing behind the stove. He turned the minute he heard her footsteps, eyes glancing over her stained scrubs and shoes with a furrowed brow. She was home hours later than she was supposed to be, he was right to worry. But it made her heart clench, thinking that he waited up for her to come home. That he worried over where she was, what she was doing. Alfred walked over to her, taking her head in between his hands, a sigh leaving his lips, "Bad night, I assume?"
