Re: Near the entrance: Bat/Cat
Something like hurt flashed in his eyes before he tucked it away, armour hardening, iron and steel. For too long had he allowed what they thought to wound him. No more. Bruce had made progress in that regard, at least, in that he'd lost his patience and no longer tolerated what he had before. No more accusations. No more guilt. They could find another scapegoat because he was officially retiring from the role. "No," he said. "I feel less and less like I owe them anything with each passing day. I've left." He smiled, a bitter thing. "When you said Gotham was selfish, you were right." And he left it there, didn't elaborate further. Anger had no place here, and he was trying to free himself from the claws of resentment. He needed to let go, and this was as good an occasion as any to test his ability to do so.
Pushing was familiar when it came to her, no matter how much it rankled him. And he didn't particularly care about Harley's tendencies or her need to play shrink; he wasn't her patient. He was a fool for talking to her in the first place. "I don't care how she works. I don't need to have anything dragged out of me, and even if I did, I wouldn't go to her for help." He was practically snapping, and it was likely for the best if he and Harley didn't cross paths tonight-- or anytime in the near future, even. He wasn't taking advice from a woman in love with a psychotic murderer.
So many silent questions, and he couldn't even begin to answer one. He knew she wouldn't understand his silence. He didn't even understand it himself, and he certainly wasn't doing a very good job at clarifying, but that was dangerous territory. This entire conversation was. And the way she looked at him, that was almost as bad as her pushing, clawing under his skin to elicit a reaction. "You're not Gotham," he conceded, "but you're part of it. How can I come back to anyone when I'm a world away? It isn't just literal. I'm not here," he said, emphatic, gesturing around himself. "Not in the way that matters. That counts. This is just temporary, for Eddie and Stephanie. I came for them." A hard truth, maybe, but truth all the same, and he'd already resigned himself to the belief that he was going to break something no matter what he did; if being careful accomplished nothing, then why bother?
He shook his head when she asked what wouldn't be the same. "Everything." A broad answer, but to him it felt fitting. Felt right. "Nothing. Nothing will be the same. Dick is Batman now. Damian will be his Robin, I know he will. Tim thinks he's the only one doing anything, and according to him I don't give a damn. Stephanie and Eddie are married now, I have no idea where Helena is, Barbara is in space and Jason, I don't know what Jason is doing these days. What will I be? Where will I fit? I don't know," he insisted. He stopped when she said they'd never tried, that there had been no them, and a muscle in his cheek when she suggested they'd been too scared to try. "I don't know what we are," he said quietly. "Or what we will be."
Defensiveness manifested itself in his shoulders, tense, his posture, when she asked about Iris. He didn't want to drag her into this. So he said nothing, at least for just then, ignoring the question outright. "I'm not handing you over to anyone," he frowned. "You're a grown woman. You can make your own choices. I'm not forcing you to be with Banner." And maybe she thought of him as a best friend, this Marvel doctor who was so very popular. Maybe she didn't love him. But, Bruce was certain, he felt strongly about her. Of course he wouldn't want her loving another man. Did it matter that he was jealous? How could he fight for her when he didn't believe he was any good for her? Banner was the logical better choice, and surely even Selina had to know that.
He sighed when she asked about Iris again, with genuine curiosity this time. "She never expected anything from me. I never felt like I had to prove myself to her. And talking is... easier. I care about her, just as you care about Banner," he added.