Chapter Text
Something had been bothering Bruce about the last Trenezan invasion. He had been trying to make connections between new and old League reports in his private quarters at the Watchtower when someone had disturbed the quietness surrounding him.
The two knocks on the door had been quite light and Bruce couldn’t figure out who it was before he got the door. He had not expected to find Hal waiting for him, looking around nervously and holding a thick envelope.
Before, Hal would have just let himself in discreetly. Facial recognition would have granted him access. Those last few years, Bruce’s quarters had more or less become theirs. Hal asking permission to get in meant he didn’t consider the place as their shared quarters anymore, only as Bruce’s. The thought was more depressing than Bruce would have expected.
Bruce gestured for him to enter but Hal shook his head and handed him the envelope.
"I went to the Manor but Alfred told me I’ll find you here. Please, have a look at this. You know that I don’t want anything so I'm sure we can make this quick."
Bruce had known Hal had been very serious about the divorce. They had argued about it often enough and Hal had told him he would get the necessary paperwork. It didn't make it any less difficult to breathe when he snatched the envelope from Hal.
"I won't sign this." Bruce warned him, putting down the divorce settlement agreement on his desk on the pile Hal wouldn’t fail to recognize as the “to deal with later if ever” one.
"Bruce, I'm not having a fun time either. You know that, right ? It's not like I didn't want to marry you in the first place. I meant my vows." Hal snapped.
"Just not the "till death do us part" stuff ?" Bruce shot back.
They had raised their voices and Hal spared a look at the corridor in his back before he chose to get inside and close the door behind him to keep their conversation private.
His gaze brushed the room but he knew it well enough already.
Bruce’s sweater on the back of a chair, two familiar mugs next to each other besides the coffeemaker, pictures and notes from Bruce's current ongoing investigation pinned on the whiteboard… Everything was familiar.
On Bruce’s bedside table, there was a picture of all the kids wearing their costumes that Hal had gifted him for his last birthday. Even Jason was here (that had cost Hal 50 dollars and to get roped into one of Jason's investigations).
The picture on the bedside table that had unofficially been labeled “Hal’s” in the last years was quite blurry and had Hal and Damian on it. It dated from two winters ago and they were throwing snowballs at each other in the Manor’s gardens.
Hal’s cheeks were red and he was shouting something at Damian who was doubling up with laughter, looking younger than he often allowed himself to be. The picture wasn’t especially flattering for Hal but he loved it and he knew Bruce liked it too.
Hal almost made a step toward Bruce but renounced when he met his guarded eyes - it wouldn’t do any good.
"Don't be - I get it, you're hurt and it's a shitty situation to deal with for us all -"
If he had thought Bruce had shown great self-restraint so far, it was nothing compared to the self-control he was displaying at the moment. He caught Bruce’s face contorting with pure rage for a second before facing the blank mask he hated.
"Oh, it's a shitty situation for you, now ? Hal, you can't even imagine -" Bruce started saying, letting Hal see through the cold facade once again before pausing and looking away, jaw clenched.
His husband wasn’t just angry, Hal knew that. He was deeply heartbroken and Hal hated himself for it.
"I'm sorry, Bruce." he said.
He didn’t look at his shoes. It was his doing, he knew what he was getting up too. He really hoped it was worth it - for now, it hadn’t really felt like it.
"That doesn't cover half of it and you know it." Bruce said, sitting down on the bed.
"You don't have to make it more difficult than it should be." Hal said.
He didn’t sit next to Bruce as he would have liked. That would feel too intimate.
He resented Bruce for making things so complicated when Hal had tried to make them as painless as possible for everyone involved.
"Then give me one good reason." Bruce said.
Hal bit his lip. Bruce had never been satisfied with his vague explanation, which wasn’t very surprising : Hal would not have let Bruce get away with it either if their situations were reversed.
"I've told you - you've done nothing wrong. It's… I just can't do this anymore. Look, I've thought about it a lot and it's the right decision."
That would have to do. It wasn’t anything Bruce wouldn’t have done for his family, was it ?
"As opposed to what ? Our marriage ?" Bruce sneered at him.
Hal rubbed his eyes. He had trouble sleeping again, which was just the icing on the cake and was not related at all to the fact that he had gotten used to sharing a bed these last few years.
"Don't put words in my mouth. I don't regret anything, I want a divorce because I'd like to keep things that way. Bruce, we've talked about this. I've told you I'll give you the paperwork. My decision is final and I'm done pretending everything's okay when it's not anymore. We have to tell your kids."
A murderous spark crossed Bruce’s gaze. Parent Bruce was more terrifying that any form Batman could take. Hal didn’t look away.
"Yes ? What do you plan to tell them ?” Bruce asked.
"That sometimes love is not enough. That they’re great kids and -”
Hal had to pause there, glancing from the photograph with Damian to the one with all the young adults and teenagers.
“That they’re lucky to have you and that I was lucky too and that it’s all been very nice but I can’t - that I have to go, now. That I wish you all to be very happy -”
Suddenly, Bruce was much closer, pressing one of his elbows. Hal looked at him with puzzlement.
"Hal, what are you even talking about ? What’s going on ? Are you sick ? Is your next Corps mission especially life-threatening ?”
“No, why would you think that ?” Hal asked, frowning, as Bruce let go of his left elbow and took a step back.
“Excuse me for getting worried when you’re talking like you’re going to die in two weeks time.”
“Nobody’s going to die.” Hal said firmly.
He was making sure of it. Bruce looked at him strangely. He must have sensed that something wasn’t quite right.
“When you speak to the kids, try to make it sound a bit less like you’re never going to see them again if you don’t want them to have a similar reaction.”
Hal stayed oddly silent. Bruce felt dread settle over him.
“Hal, whatever happens between us, don't walk out on them. Don’t you dare. Promise me and I'll consider divorcing you."
"I'm so, so sorry." Hal said, pressing his hands against his eyes.
The vulnerable gesture made Bruce's heart ache. He made a step toward Hal. Two. Soon enough he was in Hal’s space, his hands heavy on Hal’s shoulders. Hal noticed he was wearing his ring. Bruce usually did, when he wasn’t in costume or in a public setting.
Hal mainly wore his at the Manor but he was currently wearing it. A simple oversight. He didn’t have to wear it anymore and he’d better not let his teammates see it.
"Hal, why are you even doing this ? Why are you putting us through this ?”
There was a knock at the door before Hal could answer him and soon enough they were back in the field again, personal feelings set aside.