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Doors locked. No guards. Cameras off.
Bruce knows the warden the doctor will be pissed to see Edward still alive after this. He doesn’t care.
He’s doing what he feels he has to. Call it a change of heart.
In the moments between the the slam of the lock and Edward’s slow footsteps, Bruce’s hands shake. It happened the first night he dreamt of his parents, of that night. It happened the morning after the Batman was born. It happened as he found out the truth about his father. He wishes it would just go away. That he would get into the Batman headspace, shutting himself off from the world, from even himself.
But no. Though he brandishes the symbol, though he spoke to the guards with a rasp, the Batman is not here today.
Even after his first visit with Edward, he still has no clue if he knows his identity. The first mention of Bruce Wayne in that nearly sultry whisper created a black hole in his stomach that didn’t leave until the morning after. The whole thing was maybe five minutes at most. He felt it as years, every millisecond remembered in brutal detail.
He perks up his head as he hears two sets of footsteps: one heavy, carrying authority. The other barely a whisper, shuffling along.
Bruce doesn’t even register the guard. He’s just staring at Edward.
He stands in the corner, not making eye contact. They allowed them to be in the same room for once, no glass separating them. Instead, it was a wall of words neither could take back. His frame looked somehow even frailer than before, Bruce could see his collarbone beneath his shirt. His fingernails were frighteningly short; some had dried blood on the fingertips. Biting or scratching, probably. Did he--?
No. None of that.
Bruce knows what he’s thinking. “I’m not here to kill you.” He forgot to drop the voice.
Edward doesn’t respond. Just gives out a little huff of air.
Bruce tries again. Softer. “I wanted to apologize.”
Edward chuckles, but otherwise his lips stay closed.
Here goes nothing.
Bruce reaches for the cowl. Finally, Edward speaks up.
“What are you doing?”
Bruce breathes deeply, willing himself not to hyperventilate. “I need to talk to you face to face. Nothing between us. No window. No mask. Just… us.”
“Why?”
“You aren’t hiding. I won’t either--”
“Bullshit, Bruce. What’s the real reason?”
Of course he knows. “I need you to know that I’m not lying. That I won’t lie to you.”
Edward stays silent. Bruce takes off the cowl. Edward looks away, tightening his fist.
“Ed, please listen to me.”
The nickname makes him look up in surprise.
Bruce rehearsed this all day. He tried all sorts of tactics in the bathroom mirror, to Alfred, even on the drive here. But all of it is gone now that Edward’s looking him in the eyes.
Good. He doesn’t deserve some corporate PR prewritten apology. He needs the words from Bruce’s heart.
“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I… I didn’t know about anything. When I realized what you were doing… it-- I couldn’t…”
His breathing is getting out of control and Edward won’t stop staring at him--
“I can’t become a murderer, Edward. But I didn’t think about you . For that, I am sorry.”
And now his voice is shaking like a little kid and Edward is still just staring…
Don’t cry.
“I wish… I could’ve done more for you-- I wish I did more. You’ve dealt with so much because of me. Because of the horrible people running Gotham. You deserve so much more. I wish… I wish I could have been there for you.”
Edward’s still silent, the only sound being Bruce trying desperately to not fall apart.
After a moment, Edward lets out a breath he’d been holding. “Bruce.”
Edward walks over to him. Even with the boots, they’re at pretty much the same height.
“It’s too late to change the past,” he says. “Prove that you’re really sorry from now on. Don’t leave me like everybody else did.”
A single tear runs down Bruce’s face, taking the paint with it like a falling meteor.
“I won’t.”
The two stand in silence, both trying to keep their composure. Bruce knows it’s no use.
He quickly wraps his arms around Edward, crying into his shoulder. He freezes, his breathing stopping.
…
“Edward. Are you okay--?”
Edward lets out a noise that can only be described as him breaking . They fall to the ground, the concrete scraping their knees. Bruce hasn’t heard sobbing this loud, this hard since…
“You left me. Oh, God, I was so alone…”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”
“You said I was nothing…”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry…”
“Please don’t leave me. Please please please please please please don’t leave me! ”
“No, no. Never. I love you.”
Edward sobs at that, pressing their foreheads together. Bruce thinks he can feel their anguish wrapping them together in a bind. He kisses Edward right then and there, holding on to him like a lifeline.
Edward looks at him, smiling for the first time.
“I knew it.”
They laugh a little, still holding on tight to each other.
In a whisper, Edward adds, “I love you too.”