The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 20 - First Aid

After dinner, Sara retreated to her room. Walking through the hallway alone, she could feel how truly empty the manor was. Lonely and devoid of life. With no other staff that she could see besides Alfred, and Bruce being away most of the time, it was rather gloomy. The sounds of her steps echoed throughout the hall until she reached the bedroom.

The only belongings she had left was a little plastic bag from the hospital filled with dressings and antibiotic ointment for the burn wounds. No extra clothes, no makeup, no phone. She'd have to start an insurance claim for her apartment and whatever was in it, but what to do in the meantime? Quite literally everything she had besides her car was inside that apartment. Even her purse containing her ID and credit cards was lost. Until she could arrange to get new ones, she was technically broke and homeless. And living with her business partner.

With a frustrated sigh, she rummaged through the bag to retrieve the ointment and wound dressings. After washing her hands, Sara sat on the foot of her bed and rolled up her sleeve. From wrist to elbow, her left arm was wrapped in a non-stick bandage to prevent infection. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage. Stinging pain returned, causing her to flinch the more she unveiled the burn. It was definitely better than it was a week ago, but it still wasn't quite pretty. She applied the ointment as directed, wincing with every touch.

As she attempted to begin wrapping the wound, she heard a knock at the door. It must be Alfred coming to check on her. "You can come in," she said, preoccupied.

The door opened, and instead of the older man, she looked up to see Bruce. "Just wanted to see if you needed anything-"

"Isn't that what Alfred is for?"

"And to let you know that the police sergeant is dropping by tomorrow with some news and questions about the fire investigation," he finished.

She looked back down and continued to busy herself with the bandage. Panic threatened to rise within the pit of her stomach. "The sergeant?" She spoke cooly. "It must really be serious."

"They think it's arson, but they're still looking into it."

Just as they feared. So Bruce had been right to be suspicious about the nature of that fire. The dire question remained, who did it and why? Sara had a good guess that remained unmentioned.

"You're doing it wrong."

She glared at him. "What?"

"You're wrapping it too tight." He walked over to observe her fine bandaging work.

"I'm perfectly capable of bandaging myself."

He gave her a look with a raised brow. "Here, I'll show you."

Pulling her arm back instinctively, she blinked and tried to think of a response. She didn't want his help, but instead of refusing him, she told him to go wash his hands first. So much for despising his pity. Though she was bad at doing it herself. When he returned with clean hands, she gave him the wound dressings.

Bruce sat beside her on the bed and gently began wrapping the bandage, starting from the elbow. "Where did you ever learn to bandage a wound?" She asked, jaw clenched from the discomfort of both her burned arm and his nearness.

"You'd be surprised by the number of ways you could get hurt while spelunking or rock climbing." With each wrap around, he lightly held her arm steady with his other hand. While meticulously determining the proper looseness, he allowed the bandage to overlay itself slightly each time.

"Really? I don't take you for the outdoorsy type," she said, her gaze narrowed. She felt goosebumps raise as his fingers trailed her arm and could only hope he wouldn't notice.

"Alfred says I always louse it up," he turned the attention back to his handy work, "but I would tend to disagree." He took her hand and gently stretched out her arm. "How's that?"

Sara tried to quench the warm sensation that arose within her. With a straight face and dead-serious tone, she said, "It's too loose." She wanted to laugh when his brows furrowed in frustration. "I'm kidding. It's fine."

"Good, because I'm not going to redo it," he huffed, carefully leading her hand back to her lap.

"I didn't even ask you in the first place," she pointed out. The whole thing felt too cliché and increasingly awkward. And not such a subtle way of trying to win her over. He was sly, she had to give him that. Swallowing her pride, she uttered, "But thank you."

Both of them looked up when Alfred knocked on the already open door, a knowing look on his face. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Bruce frowned and stood from the bed. "No, you're not." He gave the butler a pointed glare.

"I just came to see if our guest needed anything-"

"Mr. Wayne already did that," Sara said, still sitting on the foot of the bed. "But, while you're here, Alfred, you can judge his work." She raised her bandaged forearm.

Alfred raised both brows first to Bruce, then he stepped closer to observe her arm. "It's wrapped too tight."

Despite Sara's best efforts to restrain herself, a laugh escaped her. She glanced up to see a bright glimmer in Bruce's eyes as he looked back to her, a subtle smile curling the corners of his mouth. Clearing her throat, the humor of the moment quickly subsided. Alfred grinned as he looked between the two.

"Alright, you've got 'doctor' Pennyworth's opinion," Bruce hastily turned Alfred around and they both headed to the door.

"Well, now I know who to ask if I ever need help," she added jokingly.

Pausing in the doorway, Bruce turned to look back at her. He knew what she meant, but perhaps he was amused by her sense of humor finally rising to the surface. She caught his look and quickly shoved the moment aside.

She couldn't have him thinking that she would let her guard down. Maybe she had, just for a moment, but just as quickly as it fell, it reappeared.

"Oh, wait a second..." Bruce hurried down the hall and returned a few moments later with a clean t-shirt in hand. He tossed it to her. "Here."

She looked at the oversized gray shirt. Not the comfiest of pajamas, but it'd do.

"Goodnight," he said briefly.

Sara only nodded and gave him a polite, formal smile before he shut the door.