The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 18 - Solace

Sara awoke with a gasp. An oxygen mask covered her mouth nose, though it felt like it made little difference. Her chest hurt with every rise and fall. No longer was she in her burning apartment, instead she found herself in a sterile hospital room. She groaned as she felt a burning pain over several places.

Two people walked into the room, immediately going over the vital signs on a monitor. "Hello, Ms. Carter," the doctor said as a nurse worked on adjusting whatever was dripping into her veins.

She couldn't understand whatever he said next, feeling a wave of fatigue come over her. Forcing her eyes to stay open, she watched them as they spoke. Seeming satisfied, the doctor left the room, leaving the nurse to write something down.

All she wanted to do was sleep. It seems like she did at one point, as she shut her eyes for a moment, and the next thing she knew, the nurse was gone.

Gradually, she regained awareness, and with it returned the pain. When she moved to press the call button, she saw the bandages covering her hands and arms. Her throbbing forehead was also wrapped in a bandage. A few moments after the button was pressed, a new nurse entered the room.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as she examined other first degree burns on Sara's cheek.

Sara groggily mumbled something incoherent. The nurse removed the oxygen mask, her eyes darting between Sara and the monitor. "We're going to see how you do without the oxygen for a little while, okay?"

She blinked in acknowledgment, bracing herself for the cough to follow.

"Do you know where you are?" The nurse asked, looking down at a clipboard.

"A hospital," she groaned, her voice hoarse.

"And do you remember what happened last night?"

Sara stared blankly for a few long moments as we tried to recollect the incident. Her apartment burned to hell. Oh, my apartment... Yet there was something she was missing. She recounted the event to the nurse, who nodded.

"You've sustained some first- and second-degree burns, and you're also being treated for smoke inhalation."

She didn't need the explanation to understand why she felt pain all over. The nurse busied herself in preparing some small tubing that she placed around Sara's nose. "This is just for a little extra oxygen. It should be more comfortable than the mask."

The nurse left her to rest, but it was easier said than done. She felt just as exhausted as before, yet now she couldn't get herself to fall asleep. Every cough elicited pain. It was going to be a long day.

Two days later, some of her strength finally returned. She was moved from the trauma center to a private inpatient room, where she was to stay for possibly a week. She was well enough to receive phone calls from Mr. Riley and her coworkers wishing her a quick recovery. Sara hadn't even thought of work, nor did she want to.

As she was sipping on warm tea and honey, a nurse knocked on the door, announcing that a visitor had arrived.

And that the visitor was none other than Bruce Wayne.

So much for not thinking about work.

Visitors were the last thing she wanted, but there was a significant lack of them. Sara sat up straight and then realized how dumb she seemed for trying to fix her singed hair. "You can let him in."

Bruce entered the room holding a vase filled with lavender, white roses, purple daisies, and carnations.

"You know, you could've just called like the rest of them," she said bluntly. Maybe having a visitor while she felt irritable and miserable wasn't the best idea.

He placed the flowers next to other assorted "get well" gifts from coworkers that had been delivered to her room.

"Then I wouldn't have been able to bring you these in person. But I see I'm not the only one." He looked to the other gifts.

"I've been getting these since yesterday. But, believe it or not, you've been the only one to actually bother coming here." She was monotone and unenthusiastic. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

He blinked. "Inconvenience?"

"I know there's a lot going on right now." Sara paused to forcefully cough into her arm, wheezing from the discomfort. "And your schedule is always booked solid."

"Well, let's just say I'm playing hooky again." He gave her a genuine smile. "There's more important things than office meetings."

She didn't need his sympathy nor his pity. But it was nice. "Gone AWOL from another meeting, huh?"

He shrugged. "I'm starting to think they don't need me as much as they think they do."

She uttered a dry laugh, thinking back to the emotionless 'get well soon' phone calls. "You and me both."

Seeing Bruce still standing there, and the awkward fact that there was no chair for visitors in the small room, she let him sit on the foot of the bed. "Got anymore leads?"

"I didn't come here to talk business," he said, shaking his head. "Just take it easy for a while."

"I don't have the luxury of taking it easy for a while, Mr. Wayne. If I had my way, I'd be back in the office. But," she lifted her bandaged hands, "I don't think I can use a keyboard."

Bruce chuckled. "I admire your tenacity, I'll give you that." He admired a lot more about her, she knew, but that remained unspoken.

Neither one acknowledged what had occurred between them on the night of the banquet. Sara didn't want to think that his blatant care and consideration had ulterior motives, but she couldn't put the possibility aside.

"Do you know what's left of my apartment?" She asked suddenly. "No one's given me a straight answer."

His gaze shifted away, expression grim. "They're working on cleanup and recovering what they can."

Apparently Bruce couldn't give her a straightforward answer either, but she knew what he meant. A heavy sigh initiated another coughing fit.

"Do you have anywhere to go once you're out of here?" He asked, interrupting her self pity.

No family, nobody she could actually call a 'friend.' The simple answer was no. "I'll manage something. I can stay at a hotel until I can secure a new place-"

Shaking his head again, he said, "You can stay at my manor as long as you need to."

Sara blinked. Staying at his home? She couldn't consider it. "Thank you, but I don't-"

"You gotta have time to heal. There's plenty of guest rooms. Alfred will get started on preparing one for you."

"Your generosity is appreciated, Mr. Wayne, but really, I-"

Voice lowered, he spoke in a serious manner, "And until we know how that fire started, I think it's best for you to stay somewhere safe."

The realization paralyzed her. She understood what he was saying. Did he think it was intentional? As she considered the possibility, her heart raced.

Staying at Wayne Manor would put him in jeopardy, too. But, thinking rationally now, what other options did she have?