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He likes his job. He’s good at it.
People listen to him, and they know what he’s talking about— they aren’t just pretending and nodding along. They follow his words and value his opinions.
Bruce is threaded from something different, though. He should feel at home with his peers; surrounded by those who understand him and appreciate his input.
But, he doesn’t.
He doesn’t belong anywhere.
Some days he feels this more than others.
When Betty brings up her father, Bruce feels some distant nostalgia… followed by a harrowing compulsion to slam his fist into whatever he finds first.
He couldn’t; he wouldn’t.
Bruce doesn’t get angry. He only allows himself the image of it; contained in the boundaries of his mind, for no one else to see.