Re: log: gatsby, bruce/selina
Her answer was what he expected. In truth, Bruce believed that everyone would choose their Gotham over this one, the city they'd all been cast into against their will, even if they said otherwise. It made sense. Wasn't home always preferable? Even if home was a nightmare, better a familiar hell than an unfamiliar one. "I understand," he told her. "I didn't ask so I could judge your answer. I just wanted to know." As though he was in any position to judge, regardless. Him, with his death wish and his disdain for a city he was meant to protect.
He knew why she'd left. He nodded. "I know." He sighed, a thick, heavy sound. "Truthfully, I envy her a little. For being able to leave." Because he really did feel like he couldn't leave Gotham. He felt bound to it, shackles and chains, which only added to the resentment that burned low in his belly. Having never had an Oracle, he didn't realize that Eddie had, albeit unintentionally, taken her place, and the more he drank he less likely it was that it would occur to him.
The way she laughed puzzled him further, and his frown deepened. "Tony died," he said. "You didn't kill him." A smile, then, bitter and mirthless. Of course Tony had given her an ultimatum. Gotham was like a disease, to be avoided at all costs. Who in their right mind would ever want to be there? "None of that means he doesn't like you, Selina," he began, but then he noticed the way she winced and stopped himself. "What hurts?" Concern seeped through despite himself, mixing with drunken slur and thickness.
A pretty big word, perhaps, but fitting. He wished he hadn't looked up, wished he'd kept his gaze downward. Her anger was something he could not fix, and he was tired of arguing, of trying to find a place for her; he couldn't do it. Repeating that he hadn't meant for this to happen, for her to be driven from Gotham entirely, wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix anything. It was pointless.
"This?" Repetition. "What is this? Us? Because I don't think there is an us." Heavier emphasis meant more slur, and he wished he had more to drink. He got to his feet, unsteady and unbalanced, with the intent to find more.