closed

[pearlstrings]

characters: Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Riku, Vanitas
location: The museum + the church
date/time: Post Sandman event- from the point that the dreamers wake +4days
content: Jason tips his hand and some complicated truths are revealed + Bruce goes to the church to wait for familiar faces to be resurrected
warnings: violence, gore, character death



museum | jason todd
[He's dreaming until he isn't. It's a difficult thing to describe as dreaming in the first place when Bruce doesn't remember falling asleep. They're before and after images- he had been there, at the dinner. And then he'd been looking up at the church, squinting through barely remembered sunlight.

His body feels stiff and that's perhaps the first sensation to occur to him. The muscle in his stomach and arms is tight from disuse, his back feels like one solid shape that's been locked together. Everything is dark and cold. Bruce tries to flex his toes but he isn't sure if it follows through- if it's an idea of if it actually carries. He tries his fingers. And slowly he becomes aware of his face- the muscle around his mouth and the space between his brows. There's no corona behind his closed eyes and Bruce is sure he must be back where he started, but he isn't vertical anymore. Everything around him feels strange and muted- as if his hands are over his ears.

A small noise comes out of him, not quiet a grunt, but more than a breath. And slowly Bruce is able to open his eyes for the first time in two weeks.]





church | riku + vanitas
[Jason leaves. This is not unexpected because in the time they've known each other, if it could be called that, Jason leaving has become a sort of constant. Their paths intersect from time to time, and then they are forcibly diverted. Bruce doesn't blame him; he suspects that Jason would have fled while he was still smouldering if he could. It was necessity that had kept them together, reversed their positions.

But alone in the museum once more Bruce hears his tablet respond, an incoming message. It's reassuring to see that Riku is present and accounted for, that he's already trying to get on top of things, to organize. Bruce understands this reaction because it's one that they share.

And that changes as soon as the tablet chimes again. The bulletin.

If he is honest (and Bruce tries to be honest) he isn't take aback to find Vanitas's name on the obituaries. He has been listed before, but there is a chaotic recklessness in him that Bruce has long since been aware of. A kind of fearlessness in regards to his own limits, to whatever pain his actions might incur. There is a moment where he considers how this might change his demeanor and what Bruce might be able to learn about his motivation. But that moment is subsumed by Jim Gordon's name on the list. It strikes Bruce like a glancing shot- that makes his ears ring and makes his body feel hot with urgency and nausea.

The James Gordon he knows has always been part of the GCPD and by extension his life has always been close to danger. Sometimes that danger is more present than others, sometimes it's more personal. He has been targeted more than once and Bruce has lost sleep for worry before. He has has practice clamping the lid down on what might have happened, on his worst fears. He tries to remind himself of this now, as he climbs to his feet and tears out the door without bothering for a jacket or even his shoes. The dead do not stay dead here. He knows this to be fact, he has seen it, Vanitas himself is a testament.

But the fear persists.

Bruce races to the church like a man possessed, along dirt trails and through trees, until the building looms ahead of him- a strange twin to the place he'd just woken from.]

Comments

[pearlstrings]

[Time has felt distended since the moment he woke and Bruce is as disconnected from it now as he was when Riku had first contacted him. You've been out for two weeks. It has to mean something even in a place without sunlight because the perpetual darkness doesn't change the urgency of the situation. They're here for a reason. There's something they're meant to do, conditions that necessitate working quickly and wisely. He can't estimate how long Vanitas is there, doing what he wants to, what perhaps he feels like he has to. Bruce wonders if he's ever seen beneath it, the mysterious figure that lives beneath the trap door, and then he wonders if that mysterious figure was the person they'd heard. If they'd been the cough, the rustling of movement.

It doesn't escape his notice that despite his ability to leave, the permission he's been given- Riku chooses to remain by his side. This doesn't seem out of character for the person he's come to know. But.

His face turns, a waning moon cast on the boy beside him, and Bruce finds that he can still see him- even through the murky lens of his own fear. Of his own pain. There's a terrible truth that lives in him and sometimes Bruce can put the words to it, hold them in his head. This will never stop for him. He knows, from the years that have passed since the funeral for his parents, from the way Jason looks at him and finds every reason to look away- that he will lose the people he loves for the rest of his life. There may be good things, beautiful things, in between. He might have another dance with Selina. He might watch the sunrise with Alfred. But this will be his universal constant.

Bruce does what he does because he doesn't believe that this is a cycle everyone is destined for. He wants to believe that people like Riku are going to see home again. That they'll be surrounded once more by the ones they love even if they can't always believe it for themselves. He doesn't know if that brings him comfort here and now. But it makes things quiet.

Neither one of them speak as Vanitas climbs to his feet and slowly begins to close the distance. There's no telling even on the best of days, how Vanitas will respond to their company, how long any temporary peace might last. But it's clear that he doesn't expect the reply that comes. Bruce stands still not with composure, but instead like a ship at sea, bereft of wind. And then he looks down- realizing for the first time that he's barefoot.]

[equinoctials]

[ When Vanitas turns - right before he realizes they're still there, waiting - Riku thinks he sees... something, something in the slope of Vanitas' shoulders, in the gold of downcast eyes that makes something tighten heavily in his chest. A sympathetic response, like the time Kairi dropped her pencil case off the docks when they were kids after showing her friends what the Mayor had given her on her birthday.

Her disappointment. Sora and Riku had gotten their clothes soaked hurrying to be the first to fish up her present from the water and a scolding besides, but they couldn't bear seeing her look like that. Riku's been thinking about them a lot the last few months, like he's filling up for the holes in his heart with childhood memories.

He's not the only person he's heard express an interest with whatever's on the other side of that trapdoor, but this seems to stem from something other than curiosity. Something more personal. The questions keep piling up, and this time, Riku doesn't even have the option to ask them, he sees the fists at Vanitas' sides and how his gaze keeps falling to Bruce, but he doesn't respond until he says aloud an observation.

Riku snaps his fingers. Right? Thank you. That's exactly why he's so insistent on lending him the bike. One jaunt through the cold mud barefoot is one thing, but twice? Forget it. These are things that are actionable, direct. Food and warmth are fights anyone can understand. The more complicated matters of the heart he can be present for, he can relate, they're not fights to win but experiences that build up or tear down what makes them who they are.

He doesn't speak, but he steps forward, closing this triangle of them around the fixed point of Bruce. There's no attempt to urge them to leave; Riku waited for Vanitas but there's no reason he can't wait for Bruce except if the waiting puts either of them in danger. With the spirits retreated, that leaves the elements, but his breath doesn't plume in the Church like it does outside, so perhaps... it's okay enough. ]

[evulsed]

[ He's never seen Bruce like this before. He's seen him quiet, and focused. He's seen him frustrated— but there's usually something kinetic in him, even when he's still. Maybe the way his mind is always moving, even when his body is not. But this... he looks like a shift with it's sails sagging, the wind gone from them. He looks like he could be pushed and pulled in any direction.

He looks a little like the Ventus Vanitas had met that first time. Empty-eyed and listless, and he doesn't like the look of it one bit. There's something more at play here, Vanitas knows because that darkness boils off of him like steam from a geyser, whispering of something bigger and deeper underneath— but he can't pinpoint it just yet. The not knowing is just as frustrating as this opposite person, with his hunched shoulders and his empty expression. ]

Idiot.

[ Vanitas isn't affectionate, but something about the cadence of the word almost lends itself to the suggestion of it. He frowns. ]

Can't you get sick from that sort of thing?

[pearlstrings]

[He isn't cut off from the world. Bruce still notices the things happening around him, even if they don't seem to land as close- details occur on the other side of a window, things he can see but that don't touch. Riku and Vanitas have been in a fixed orbit around one another long before Bruce arrived- evidence was available even on the network- conversations that could be replaced by a choreographed fight. One lunges, the other parries. It seemed like a familiar routine even if neither one of them had justified it- had outlined the how and when and why.

But for some reason, in the last few months that's begun to change. There's a margin of patience around them, a shift in tone that's also become a shift in dynamics.

Riku snaps his fingers and Vanitas frowns, two parts of a wordless conversation. Bruce looks at his bare toes, then at his new bookends. It doesn't feel as oppressive as perhaps it should. The reply too is a kind of observation- quiet and out of body.]

I wasn't thinking.

[equinoctials]

[ Idiot, Vanitas says. The word itself isn't new, he's heard that drop out of his mouth so many times that it's started to lose its potency as an insult. The way he says it prompts a glance, first at him and then at Bruce. Speculatively.

He wasn't thinking.

Riku can relate; unable to even say that much, he feels his fingers curl in against his palm. There have been times, even recently, when all Riku could do was act unthinkingly, driven by instinct or some other, more powerful sentiment housed in his chest, fear. Love.

After a thoughtful glance at the floor - and possibly at the muddy state of Bruce's feet - he points his thumb towards the door. Vanitas is right. The last thing they need is for Bruce to fall ill while most of their meager medicine is needed for the severe injuries people incurred during the two week siege.

He does have the bike parked outside, at least neither of them have to walk. Riku can jog--well, maybe up to a point. Walk, then. ]