The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 26 - Reflection

Sara charged straight to her bedroom, passing the bags of clothes still on the steps, and ignoring even Alfred's concerned inquiries.

The turmoil of emotions roared like a violent storm. How could she have allowed herself to become so vulnerable? To have trembled as she did beneath his touch? Her heart had softened as clay, and likewise it hardened under the heat.

She shut the door as if sealing herself in a prison cell. Pinning her back against it, she slowly sank to the floor.

Her mind dwelled on all of the distinct feelings that had stirred within her. Anger. Jealousy. Resentment. She had tried to keep them alive, just to inhibit the rivaling sentiments. A growing fondness had begun to develop, and in turn she hoped to smother it before it took hold. But by then, it was too late.

All it had taken was one look into his eyes. The faint reflection in his pupils hadn't been the only mirroring image she saw. Sara could see an all too familiar appearance of remorse and sorrow. The gaze of a man who had long been a prisoner of his own guilt and tragedy.

Before he had even made the move, she could feel her defenses fall. And when he did, she had returned the embrace with equally as much desire.

It was a mistake. That was what she told herself now, even as she uttered muffled sobs into her hand. Even as she wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms, futilely hoping to find an escape from her own captivity.

But the emotional affair was nothing more than another attempt at filling her own void. It'd only be temporary, as they always were. Sara had fled with the intentions of avoiding more accumulating regret. Yet now as she sat alone, she only longed for him all the more.

She needed fresh air. Something to bring her back to her senses. Sara got up and moved to the balcony. With a deep inhale, she exhaled a broken sigh. As she looked out over the horizon, the afternoon sun warmed her face. It wasn't enough to rid her of the chill.

Catching her attention was a knock at the door.

"Ms. Carter?" It was Alfred.

She stepped back inside the room, remaining quiet.

"Miss, I've brought the bags for you. I'll just leave them here." A long pause. "Please do let me know if you need anything." His voice was gentle and sincere.

He waited a few moments more for her to say something. When she didn't, she could hear distancing footsteps.

Sara waited for him to arrive at the staircase before she opened the door. As much as she didn't want them, she wasn't beyond reason. As she lifted the bags to bring them into the room, she heard Alfred's voice once more. Though now as he descended the stairs, it was a distant echo. And reprimanding. "What on earth did you say to her now?"

Bruce's response was too soft for her to discern.

She returned to the room, placing the bags by the foot of the bed. Hoping to somewhat distract herself, she sorted through the various articles of clothing. It never occurred to her that designer brands made even everyday attire. Although their 'casual wear' was still very much elegant. In addition was some formal wear, much like what she would wear to work. Another bag had soft nightwear, undergarments, and even socks. A fourth bag had a dress. A gorgeous navy blue evening gown. The sizes were approximated, but not too far off. It was all beyond generous, as she had already assumed. Much more than what she needed until she was back on her own two feet again.

It wasn't solely an attempt to win her over. She'd come to realize it fairly quickly, but had refused to admit it to herself. To be cared for had become foreign. So much so that she had tried to convince herself that all kind deeds had ulterior motives. In the world of business, maybe it was true. But this business relationship had surpassed professionalism the moment she saw Bruce Wayne enter her hospital room with flowers. Not that the gift was anything special, but rather he had been the only person to care enough to show up.

Sara tried on a couple outfits, observing herself in a full-length mirror. Definitely an improvement from a t-shirt and sweats. Her wardrobe had always been elegant and sophisticated, as some designer clothes were within her budget. Though now all that remained of her closet was buried beneath ash and rubble. As was her suit in its metal lockbox.

Her mind wandered to the rooftops of Gotham City, bounding across buildings as though she were weightless as a feather. It'd been more effective at clearing her mind than a brisk walk through a park. But recent circumstances rendered that impossible. The constant threat of the GCPD paled in comparison to that of the Batman. Now with an unmistakable target pinned to her back, she could wave her late-night parkour sessions goodbye.

Folding the rest of her new clothes into the wooden dresser, Sara felt more caged in than she ever had. The four walls of the bedroom seemed to close in after the countless hours she spent locked up in the room. She needed wide open space. Maybe she'd take up the offer to walk the premises after all.

By the time Sara had made up her mind, it was already late afternoon. She quietly stepped out of the bedroom, listening carefully. Facing Alfred or Bruce was the last thing she wanted. Seeing that they were likely preoccupied elsewhere in the enormous manor, it wasn't too difficult to slip out the front door unseen.