Feed The Children

Hope Incarnate

It's not uncommon for Edward to pass the nights wide awake, waiting for dawn to break the world's unrelenting darkness. Some nights he reads, others he writes or draws, but tonight he lies in his bed after an unsuccessful attempt to actually sleep. Boredom grips his mind and he debates getting up every time he sees an hour tick up on his alarm clock. He stays put and stares out the window, watching with heavy eyelids as the sky turns from black to a navy blue to a light, gentle purple as the sun comes up.

It's a little unusual that the sun is out this morning after last night had been so horrid. It's easy to trust that a night that brings heavy rain will bring an even heavier downpour in the morning. Instead, the clouds that remain are only thin wisps that don't do much to dim the city. It's a once in a lifetime occurrence, Edward thinks. He doubts there'll be something like this—a clear morning after a stormy night—again for years.

Edward readjusts how he's lying, turning from his side to his back to glare up at the ceiling. It'd been Bruce's jackets that kept Edward awake last night, along with the thought of his bike parked somewhere near his apartment complex, waiting through the night for Bruce to come back to it. It's somewhat of a refreshing cause; Edward is often kept up by racing thoughts, anxiety, paranoia, whatever it may be that keeps sleep at bay.

Edward wasn't relaxed last night, but he was oddly at peace. He hasn't had someone to properly talk to in a very long time, and though his mind wants to tell him it should've never been with Bruce Wayne, his heart aches for it. He's gotten comfortable being alone—he doesn't have a choice—but having company last night wasn't as unwelcome as Edward thought he'd find it at the end of their visit.

He'd learned so much about Bruce just from sitting across from him for nearly two hours. His mannerisms and the way he speaks, things Edward never thought he'd know about Bruce Wayne. Things Edward isn't sure he ever wanted to know about Bruce Wayne.

Edward's eyes burn. He blinks, scrunches them shut, trying to get some moisture back into them as he listens to the city wake up through a barely open window. Edward can hear the noise of traffic already starting up, impatient and aggressive Gotham drivers honking their horns at will. The cool air of the morning seeps in through the crack and chills his arms through a thin long sleeve tee shirt. All night he considered getting up to close it, after having opened it to let the smell of rain in, but he didn't, and instead wrapped himself up in his blankets and let the chilly air fill his room all night. He doesn't particularly like being cold, but last night was different for some reason.

Early that morning, earlier even than Edward's alarm, there comes a soft rapping at his door. Edward wonders if Bruce got any sleep last night either. It's only been around four hours since their visit—not much time to get any meaningful kind of sleep. The chronic bags under Bruce's eyes give Edward the impression that he doesn't get much sleep in the first place.

Edward answers the door, and Bruce is there, wearing a different jacket this time. It looks lighter than either of his others. His bandana isn't covering his face but rather messily bunched up around his neck like he'd only pulled it down seconds before Edward opened the door.

"Did I wake you up?" Bruce asks.

Edward fights back the urge to yawn. "No."

Bruce gives a single nod, his mouth set in a thin line. He looks like he's only here on business. "I left my jackets," he says after a few moments of the two only staring at each other.

Bruce left his jackets. He certainly did. They're still slightly damp, the heavy fabric holding onto the water for longer than any other material might. When Edward saw that he was still in possession of them, he inspected them to see what Bruce Wayne wears. Both are brands he doesn't recognize, and he figures that makes sense. Edward is only familiar with brands that a billionaire wouldn't even consider wearing. Most of his own clothes are from the Gap and thrift stores. Edward wonders if Bruce even knows what that is.