Bruce Wayne Oneshots

Panic

Word Count: 610

Synopsis: Bruce comes home two days later, after beating a man who is the supposed killer of his parents. He panics about their death and about the beating he just did.

Warnings: depressing shi and fluff? 

Two days. It's been two days and he hasn't come home. You were deep into your slumber when you heard the wooden door slam against the door. You jolted. "Shit, I- I'm sorry for waking you up," he whispered. You knew something was wrong, his voice was low and broken down. Is he crying? "Bruce, what's wrong?" you got up to look at him, the moonlight shining on his face. Where you saw tears drip down his face.

He looked away from you. "Nothing Y/N, just go back to bed, please" his voice broke. You grabbed his face, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." He hugged you finally breaking down, kneeling on the floor. This was the first time in a while your husband broke down. Anytime he was close to crying he would move away from you, making himself believe he mastered feeling any emotion like this. He hated the feeling of panic, the feeling of being sad.

You hug him tightly, rubbing your hand up and down his back. He removed his face from your chest, you looked at him. "I could've done something, Y/N. I could've saved them. They would still be here if I weren't so scared to protect them." You crouched down. "Honey, you were a little boy. The man who murdered your parents was a grown man. I love you, but there's no way you would've stood a chance without getting yourself hurt or killed. There's a reason you weren't killed that night. You have a purpose here in Gotham so you can make sure what happened to your parents never happens again."

You combed your fingers through his hair as he stood silent. "I still could've done something, I don't want to protect Gotham. I want to be able to be with my parents. Why did that have to get taken away" he cried harder. "I know baby, I can't imagine how much this hurts you."

You went to touch his back and he whimpered at the pain. "Bruce, did you get hurt?" he stayed quiet with his head facing down. You lifted his shirt, revealing bruises on his back."Bruce what did you do." you lifted his chin. "Carmine had given me a lead on the guy who killed my parents. I followed him, that's why I didn't come home. And I beat him. I had so much adrenaline Y/N. He got a couple of good hits but that was it, I left him in the alleyway bloody." Your eyes grew wide, Bruce had a no-kill rule. He couldn't possibly kill someone. Right??

"Bruce, you didn't kill him did you?" "I- I don't know Y/N. In a way, I hope I did. But at the same time, I hope I didn't." you stayed silent and he took note. "You think I'm a killer. What have I done." he got up and paced around the room. Panic started to settle in. "Bruce." he looked back with teary eyes, you got up and kissed him.

You placed your hand on his heart, feeling his pulse go down. You broke the kiss, "Even if he is dead, which he mostly likely is not, you're not a killer Bruce. You could never be a killer. Deep down you're a good person. I can promise you that with everything I have." "You think so?"

"Of course, I know so." you laid him down on the bed and walked to the other side getting in bed. "Come here" he scooted closer laying his head on your chest. You ran your fingers into his hair, and the both of you fell asleep just like that.