Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-07-07 01:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, red hood |
Who: Luke, Jack + Gus
What: Getting Gus out from under the bed.
Where: Luke's apartment.
When: The morning after Wren leaves the hospital.
Warnings/Rating: Small child cuteness.
The night before had been a sleepless one. Even if Wren hadn't been plagued by nightmares, which she had, he still wouldn't have been able to drift off for more than a few minutes at a time before startling himself back into wakefulness. Maybe part of it was paranoia, mixed in with leftover worry that came from months of Alexander’s threats hanging over their heads. The hours stretched into eternity, it seemed, an eternity spent watching the woman at his side sleep and gently soothing her back into calm whenever a nightmare left her tossing and turning. If he could have, he would have stayed like that forever, just the two of them, but Gus was waiting for him at home and he had already been away for too long as it was.
So, as the sun crept higher into the sky, he slipped from the bed after kissing her good-bye, collected his shirt, and called a cab to pick him up in front of the building. Bruce had seemingly simmered down during the night, and his disappointment was now a low hum rather than a deafening roar. Thus, the ride home was blessedly quiet, and he focused on ensuring he remained calm enough to face Gus without letting any of the cracks in his facade show. He hoped to avoid Jack, if possible, but considering the fact that he lived there and the likelihood of him conveniently staying out of his way was low, it was a foolish hope. Maybe he wouldn’t push, though. Maybe he’d just leave it alone as he’d asked. So many maybes, and by the time the cab arrived at the apartment he was still no closer to any certainties.
He paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes, just staring up at the building, before he found the resolve to go inside. Attempting to make his entrance quiet seemed pointless, so Luke didn’t bother trying to keep the lock from clicking when he slid his key into it and turned, or the door from creaking when he pushed it open and stepped inside.
Jack was awake, and standing in the doorway of the bedroom when the door clicked. He stepped out into the living room in time to see Luke walk in. He smiled faintly. “Good morning,” he said.
Jack felt a little strange about how their conversation had gone over the journals, about the things he’d said and Luke hadn’t said. If Luke insisted on not talking to him about what had happened with Alexander, it wouldn’t do any good to press him on it. Though it certainly wasn’t going to stop Jack from asking questions once Gus had been reassured. There had to be a reason that Luke had kept it to himself, though Jack couldn’t fathom what it might be. He couldn’t imagine trust was the problem. Perhaps he was still too raw. Of course, Jack was already sure he knew what had happened, give or take a few details.
“He’s asleep,” Jack said, and added, apologetic, “Still under the bed.” That went without saying. Gus had only scooted out from under the bed to use the bathroom in the past few days, even sleeping down there. And Finch hadn’t liked it one bit when Jack had tried to reach underneath and convince Gus to come back out. “How are you?”
Luke hadn’t exactly expected Jack to be right there, but he managed to keep from appearing startled as he shut the door behind himself. “Morning,” he responded, managing an equally faint smile in return. This was a different sort of quiet, one he wasn’t accustomed to, since the TV was usually on or Gus was babbling about something or other to Finch or his toys. It made him feel less capable of pretending, like Jack could see right through his facade of calm. Lying to people who knew him was much, much more difficult than lying to strangers who didn’t know him well enough to be able to know the difference.
While he’d hoped that Gus might venture out from beneath the bed before he returned, he hadn’t expected it, and the news was met with a weary nod. “Yeah, I figured. He’s a stubborn kid.” Both he and Wren had that in abundance, so really, the poor boy hadn’t had much of a chance in that department. He’d been too tired to make any stops on the way home, but maybe an apology paired with the prospect of a ‘vacation’ might be enough to coax Gus out, at least, and they could go from there. “I’m okay,” he shrugged. “Tired. Glad to be home.” Neither were lies, even if they weren’t quite the full truth either.
The one thing Luke might notice, looking around, was that the TV was no longer in its place in the living room. Other than that, the apartment looked as he’d left it, if a little quieter. “I’m not surprised,” Jack said. It was obvious that he knew Luke wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but there was no sense pushing him on it when he was exhausted enough already. Jack tipped his head toward the hall, and began walking toward the bedroom. “Come in for a second. I think you’ll be able to get him out, and then we can all get some real sleep.” Later, he’d have a lot to ask Luke about. Right now, though, Gus took priority.
The TV, as it turned out, was in Gus’ room, propped up against the wall, low enough to the ground that Gus would have been able to watch while he was awake. Jack had seen no reason to leave the poor petrified kid with nothing to do if he was going to stay under there. There were crayons scattered along the floor and some that had rolled out a few inches from under the bed,as well as a trail of coloring book pages that led to the same place. “I think he’s still asleep,” Jack murmured, before ducking down to take a look.
Exhaustion meant that he processed things a little slower than usual, and it took him a few moments to realize that the TV wasn’t there it was supposed to be. Luke blinked at the empty spot, coming to a pretty solid conclusion about where it was now, and the thought of his son watching television from under the bed nearly broke his heart. “Yeah,” he said belatedly, shaking himself free from his thoughts. “Good idea. He should sleep in a real bed.” He’d probably need a bath too, and it reminded him of how the boy had been after he’d been gone for a week and Bruce had been left in his place.
Luke was grateful that Jack didn’t push, and he followed the other man into the bedroom and left his gaze settle upon the crayons and trail of pages, which told a wordless story, without commenting on them. He knew, right then and there, that this couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t leave for days and expect Gus to understand. Things weren’t like they’d been before, and he couldn’t just run off to play hero whenever something bad happened without considering the consequences. His mouth tightened into a line as he dropped to his knees beside Jack, peering beneath the bed into the dim gloom. It came as no surprise that, next to the small body curled beneath the bed, there was a larger, furrier one, but Finch’s warning growl didn’t deter him. “Stop that,” he said, quiet but firm, and after a few moments of persistence the dog relented and fell silent. “Gus?” He raised his voice just a little, enough to rouse the boy if he was indeed asleep, and the little body stirred with a small whimper that broke his heart to hear. Gus turned his face away from the warm, comforting fur of the dog to face the two men looking at him from beyond the bed, and his eyes lit up in hopeful recognition. “Luke?”
He only spared a brief glance at Jack before nodding, throat tight. “Yeah,” he managed. “It’s me, kiddo. I’m sorry I had to leave, but I’m back now, and I’m here for good. Promise.”
Jack glanced between the two of them. In a way, as much as the dog could be overprotective, he was glad for his presence, and his attachment to Gus. He shouldn't be alone down there, after all. Off to the side, a collection of blankets roughly folded into a rectangle made clear that Gus hadn't been the only one sleeping on the floor the past few days. Jack hadn't thought it right to leave the boy wedged under the bed and alone all night.
Jack had noticed that Gus called Luke by name, and it made him wonder if he even really understood who his parents were. Considering everything he'd been through lately, if he didn't know it might be worth waiting some, until things calmed down. If they did. He hoped so, for Gus' sake if no one else's. He didn't say anything, not wanting to interfere, or to step between them. In the end, Luke's presence was likely the only thing that would get Gus to come out again.
There had never been any doubt in his mind that Jack was capable of watching Gus. Whatever he might have done in the past, Luke trusted the man with his life, and there were clear signs that he’d cared enough to keep an eye on the little boy as best he could despite the fact that he’d chosen to take refuge beneath the bed for days. Words couldn’t describe how much he appreciated that, and no amount of thanks would ever be enough. His only comfort was that Jack likely already knew, and so it wasn’t overtly necessary.
Despite Wren’s claims that Gus knew who his father was, Luke had never told the boy the truth, and he still thought him too young to be able to process it. Maybe the day would come when Gus called him Daddy, but not yet, and he was fine with that. After realizing that Jack was merely a bystander and had no intention of interfering, Luke turned his attention back to Gus, who was watching him with a sort of wariness he hadn’t seen in weeks. It stung, yes, but he deserved it. “You went away again,” he said accusingly. “Why?”
It was a tough question to answer. Of course Luke couldn’t tell him the truth, but he could give a version of it, one Gus might understand. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know, and I didn’t want to, but-- a friend of mine was in trouble, and I needed to help them. And I’m back now, see? No matter what, I’ll always come back.” Maybe it was something in his voice, or maybe Gus had been so desperate to have him back that he was willing to believe what he said; whatever it was, the little boy started at him for a long, long moment before inching forward. “Promise?” His voice was tremulous, and he reminded him so much of Wren just then. He nodded, desperate to get him out from under the bed, and slid his fingers forward just a little. “Promise. I’d never leave you for good, Gus. Never.” Bit by bit the little boy slid towards him, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, until Luke felt his small fingers brush against his. “Is your friend okay?” It was a quiet question, almost a whisper, and he curled his hand around his and tugged as he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, they are. They’re okay now.” And maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but it ceased to matter when Gus crawled out from under the bed and practically flung himself at him, a surprising amount of strength in the small arms that wound their way around his neck. His breath caught in his throat as he hugged him back, momentarily forgetting that they weren’t alone. No matter what he’d done, or what he thought of himself, Gus would always be the best of him, the one good thing he’d managed in his life even if he’d screwed everything else up.
Jack sat up, leaning back on his knees, and watched as Gus threw himself at Luke. It warmed his heart to see that. Gus deserved a better life than any of them had led. He deserved to be happy, to have something normal and good, despite the circumstances they all lived in. To see his relief and comfort at having his father back was a sign of hope, small as it might have been. He didn't anticipate ever having children of his own. He'd need to find someone first, something he'd stopped hoping for, and he didn't know how good a father he could possibly be, anyway. But Gus was good for Luke, and for Wren. Whatever had happened with Alexander, it was easy enough to see that Gus would remain a reason for Luke to try to live his life without any more death. There had been enough of that already.
Jack stood, moving toward the door. "Breakfast?" he offered Luke. He deserved some time alone with his son, and none of them were getting to sleep again any time soon.
Luke knew better than to assume that things would be easy from here on out, but it was a start, and that was more than he could ask for. Gus clung to him tightly enough that it seemed he would never let go, but bit by bit his hold loosened, and he gave one last pitiful sniff before looking up at the mention of breakfast. The amount of hope in the little boy’s eyes made him laugh, and he thought that eating something that hadn’t been shoved under the bed might be good for him. Besides, he was in no mood to sleep, and he doubted Gus was either. “Sure,” he agreed with a nod, and while he didn’t come right out and say it, his gratitude was clearly written in his expression.
“In the meantime, kiddo, I think you need a bath.” Gus wrinkled his nose and proclaimed that he was clean, though he was clearly biased, and Luke turned his attention away from the door in favor of negotiating bathtime in terms a four-year-old was willing to accept.