Chapter Text
The darkness weighed heavy on Bruce’s shoulders. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he wouldn’t see anything with them open, except for an endless span of nothingness. He could still feel bright lights on his face, and there was… cheering? Coming from around him, but the sound was slowly fading, as if it was moving away from him, taking the harsh lights along with it. The nothingness was cold, and dark, and soon enough he couldn’t even remember what had left him, only that it was gone, and he missed it. He missed the feeling of anything. He knew he had arms, and he knew he had a body, but he couldn’t feel anything, his body slowly becoming the nothingness that surrounded him. He remembered pain, a great pain in his chest, and then in his jaw, before he didn’t, couldn’t remember what pain was. Couldn’t remember if he had ever been in pain. A buzzing started behind his eyes, a ringing in his ears. He couldn’t remember anything, only the void. The void was good, it was safe, it would protect him from getting hurt- he was already hurt. He had died- he was safe. The void was good, and he was safe from everything. The ringing grew louder, beginning to grow almost fuzzy as it enveloped him, the buzzing behind his eyes making his eyelids feel… red, making his head grow heavy: he was safe, he was safe, thevoidissafe-
There was sunlight on Bruce’s face when he woke up. He didn’t know how long he had been sleeping, the sun just beginning its descent; natural lighting just barely poking past the edge of the red and white striped umbrella above him. Despite the sun being high in the sky, it still felt soft against his skin, leaving a hazy warmth across the bridge of his nose that felt so, so familiar. A direct contrast from the harsh lights of–
Waves crashed a few feet away, drawing his attention. He was on a beach, of course he was on a beach, how could he forget. The sand beside him was fine, and a bleached white. Sun reflected off of it, giving the rest of the beach an almost sparkling visage as he looked down its length to his left. There was no one, only sand and sea for as far as he could look, some rocky outcroppings near the end of his vision, a haze covering it as if it were a mirage. He dug his hand in the sand beside him, lifting a handful and watching as it flowed from his hand, the grains falling as if an hourglass. Trust those who know the Sand of Time– a chuckle from his right.
“I was wondering when you would wake up.” He turned around. A woman sat there, book in hand as she glanced at him through sunglasses. “It must have been a good nap though; your eyes look lost.”
Chipped pink nail polish held her place in the book. Wuthering Heights. The book was worn, and well read. She got it from her mom for her 16th birthday, it’s her favourite- The sun caught on her legs as she shifted, bringing the book to rest tented over her tanned thigh, her body shifting to face him more directly. He couldn’t help but run his eyes up her figure; a woven leather bracelet around her wrist, a black bikini bathing suit with white polka dots ending just before her collar bones, cutting deep and highlighting a silver necklace, adorned with a silver heart locket. Her skin was shiny from sun block, but in a way that suggested that it hadn’t been reapplied in hours. She leaned down into his view, sun catching on her deep brown hair, flashing a deep auburn that looked like the colour of a fine aged brandy. She lowered her glasses, her deep brown eyes catching his gaze over the frames and she smiled, sun spots and freckles shifting like sunlight on the sea as wrinkles formed around her eyes and mouth.
“Bruce? Baby? Are you alright?” Margaret. Bruce felt his breath catch, and she giggled. “What?”
His mouth opened, and then closed. She was younger than he remembered. He felt younger than he remembered, his body feeling strong and stable in his minute movements. He felt like he could take on the world, and she– why was she here, why was he–
She waved a hand in front of his face. “Did the sun get to you or something? What happened to ‘I’m a sailor, Mars, I think I can handle a little bit of sun’?” Her smile got wider and she scrunched her nose. She hasn’t done that in a while. He opened his mouth to speak, but she only chuckled again.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. I can tell you I told you so later, when we’re more… private.” Bruce glanced around at the completely empty beach, and she laughed with her chest. Something in his chest tightened. “As my fiance, it’s your duty to make it up to me, sailor. Or I can make you feel better, if this is sun stroke.” She bit her lip, eyes playful as she raised her eyebrows a couple of times before turning back to face the water. He watched her, mapping every curve of her face and her body as she leaned back on her hands, her book forgotten for the moment as she closed her eyes, letting the sun and ocean breeze wash over them both. She looked calm, calmer than she should be. But why wouldn’t she be calm? A voice that wasn’t his own whispered in his head. Bruce couldn’t help but shake his head slightly. Something was different. He remembered this, as if this had happened before. It hadn’t happened like this– it happened exactly like this– we’re happy, and we’re safe– something is wrong–
Bruce's eyes caught on movement beyond Margaret. She was still facing the ocean, her eyes closed but her face was open. She looked as beautiful as the day he met her. It took him a second to refocus, every instinct in him was telling him to kiss her, to touch her, to make her stay–
There was a woman standing 20 feet away, looking out into the water. She was tall, wearing a black sundress, exposing her deep, purple skin to the sun. A large sun hat covered her head, not flopping despite the sheer size of it. Her body was shrouded in a slight shadow, but what was visible was covered by a light purple veil, swaying gently with the breeze. As if sensing eyes on her, her head turned slowly, moving away from where she was watching the ocean to glance over at the two people. Bruce froze, as the woman seemed to make direct eye contact with him. Despite not seeing her face, Bruce could make out flowing black hair, and a faint set of eyes, glowing purple, and then black, and then nothing at all, as the memory of her face wiped from his mind like a wave erasing footprints in the sand. The veil swayed some more. Without moving her head, the woman raised one hand, holding up her index finger in a ‘one’. Something touched his leg and he startled, breaking eye contact as he glanced down. Margaret was leaned over, her hand on his knee.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Bruce’s eyes glanced past her, ignoring the furrowing of her brows. The woman was gone. He made eye contact with his ex– with Margaret again, and she smiled, her eyes still searching his. “Maybe we should go home.”
A familiar buzzing began in the back of Bruce's head. The waves grew louder in his mind, despite the ocean looking the same. Margaret leaned in closer to him, running her hand gently up his leg, tracing an invisible line up his torso, before stopping at his jaw. She cupped it gently, and where Bruce was used to a solid layer of hair in between any sort of touch, he could feel the smooth skin of her hand clearly as she pulled him in for a kiss. Bruce couldn’t help but sigh at the contact, leaning into her. Her lips were soft, and tasted faintly of sea salt and strawberry chapstick. They moved against his own in a caress that reminded him of waves carrying a boat to shore. Bruce closed his eyes, moving his hand to touch her side, to keep her against him, to have her stay– the buzzing grew louder. The waves crashing into the beach turned to screams in his mind, screams of fear, and delight, and piercing whistles of joy and frenzy cut over top of the noise; a cacophony of sound on the otherwise silent beach. Margaret pulled away an inch, keeping her face close to his.
“Wake up, Bruce,” she whispered, her lips close enough that he could feel their movement brushing gently against his own. The noise came to a crescendo, and Bruce could do nothing but brace for impact, his eyes scrunching closed– “Wake up.”
Everything went silent. And Bruce woke up.