open.

[shoving]

𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞

Comments

[restingstitchface]

[Facts change. Figures can be altered. Crane believes in analysing his data, but right now there is no reason to believe either need a look. It is simply not the time. He brings his hands together and smiles in a manner that does reach his eyes. But the spark there is anything but warm.]

Certainly nobody who can afford one.

[Look! He can use humour to deflect, too.]

[shoving]

Touché.

[ Bruce isn't so humorless that he can't appreciate a good deflection. ]

The point is, they want me to work through my grief. But I have. I mourned for Dick and now I have to move on.

[ The same way he "moved on" from his parents' murder. By dressing up like a bat and punching criminals in the face. Totally normal and good reaction. ]

[restingstitchface]

Do you?

[The question hangs on the air while Crane writes in his notebook. His pen returns to lie in orderly fashion beside it before he begins to explain.]

The five stages of grief - though engrainged in the public consciousness - are an inaccurate representation of emotion following the death of a loved one. There is nothing to move on from. Grief will always be with you. The reason people seek therapy is to learn to live with it without it dominating their life.

[He looks around his desk before centering his gaze on Bruce.]

In essence, they fear it.

[shoving]

[ Deep down, Bruce knew that Crane wasn't wrong. There was a reason he still visited the mausoleum to leave flowers for his mother and father. There was a reason Dick's suit sat memorialized in a glass case in the Batcave. All of it because he couldn't let go of his grief. He refused to. He dressed himself in it every night. And for a moment, he hated that Crane was right. ]

It doesn't scare me.

[ Not much of anything did. Except maybe forgetting. Maybe that's why kept those things so close. So he would never forget. So that he'd always be punished for failing the people he loved. So he would remember what, exactly, he had to lose. ]

[restingstitchface]

[There is one question that comes to mind. One question he remembers asking when he began lecturing at the university. One question he repeated when he overheard the whispering about his appearance, his personality, and rumours about his demeanour. One simple question he asks himself when he goes out at night, hidden beneath his mask, yet visible to the world.

He whispers with a quiet and soft voice.]

Then why are you here?

[Why does he go out every night? To punish himself? Of course not.]

[shoving]

[ No, he went out every night to punish people like Joe Chill, who terrorized the people of Gotham. He went out every night to make sure the lowest, pettiest criminal to the likes of Sal Maroni knew there was someone out there willing to hit back harder than they ever could.

For himself? His punishment is a little more inelegant. He keeps reminders of everything that's ever hurt him, so he can look at it and remember the pain it caused. So he could live there and have the motivation he needed to put the cowl back on for another night. ]

Because I was asked to come before I got myself killed.

[ But that doesn't scare him either. ]

[restingstitchface]

But that doesn't scare you.

[Crane immediately speaks as soon as Bruce is finished. There is enough pressure behind his calm and fluid tone that one can imagine how his patients must feel.]

I would say you are here because you want my validation to continue this path you're on, to assuage those who care about you. But the lack of approval doesn't scare you either, does it? It's not even so much about that. It's not even the danger you put yourself in. It's about the people around you.

[Does he emphasise? No. But he can imagine himself in that position and recognise that he, too, goes out night after night to make sure everyone out there understands he is willing to hit back harder than they ever could. Before they could hit him first.]

[shoving]

[ Right again and it draws out a huff of a laugh, quick and airy and genuine. ]

You sure you're not a mind reader, doc?

[restingstitchface]

[Crane smiles. Does he mind the term? Or does he find it offensive? The answer is neither - it hardly matters.]

Not at all. I just happen to be good at what I do.

[The implication being his colleagues, well, aren't.]

[shoving]

[ Bruce couldn't disagree. Crane could see through his subterfuge in a way most others could not. It should have been unnerving. But it only puts Bruce on alert. He would have to tread carefully, so he didn't give too much away. ]

Well, I can see why you come so highly recommended.

[restingstitchface]

[The remark causes a noise to rumble in his throat, but he suppresses any other sign of laughter by clenching his jaw. He instead draws a mental circle around the diversion, the changing of focus onto himself, and wipes it away.]

I'm sure.

[He affords it the briefest of acknowledgements but swiftly moves on.]

Or maybe they just didn't care too much to help you.

[Bruce strikes him as an intelligent man who knows what he said is the opposite of encouraging. He knows the other man will understand he knows that. So why say those words? Maybe he just wants to see what happens.]

[shoving]

[ On some level, Bruce can appreciate Crane's confidence. So many people lose that when they're around someone like Bruce. He's known more than his fair share of businessmen and politicians and financiers who would trip over themselves to get on his good side and to stay there. It's nice to have someone willing to stand their ground.

And it was a little irritating.

Because Bruce had to work a little harder to get a good read on the other man. ]

What do you recommend then? How can I put this whole thing to rest?

[ without changing a single thing about his behavior. ]

[restingstitchface]

Change your behaviour. What you choose to do today feeds into tomorrow. You understand crashing a car has consequences. You understand your behaviour is causing people stress.

[What else would he say to a man unwilling to change? Bruce's unwilling to analyse his actions hardly becomes the intelligent man who lies beneath. He considers it an anamoly and that catches his interest.]

You also said you are disinterested in easy solutions, which makes me question why you want to put this whole thing to rest.

[Crane mirrors those words deliberately. Come on, man. You're sounding like you want to take this meeting behind the woodshed and put it down.]

[shoving]

[ Because he does. And despite knowing Crane has seen through him, he keeps the act going. ]

Do you know how many parties I would have to turn down before the end of the year? Social life would be ruined. Nothing about that sounds easy to me.

[restingstitchface]

[Do you know how much that sounds like an excuse? Do you know how much that sounds like avoidance? Crane knows that pathetic answer was neither and gathers his hands in his lap. He angles his head, closes his eyes and inhales.]

Do you know how much that sounds like diversion?

[Do you know how much that smells like bullshit?]

[shoving]

[ An honest diversion. They were parties he intended to decline. ]

Despite what you may think, Gotham's social politics is a very tricky beast, Dr. Crane. Saying no to certain invitations could get you blacklisted.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane almost looks emphatic. Urgh, socialising. The thought is enough to make him want to cause a riot.]

Perhaps being excluded from society is the cost of being normal.

[shoving]

[ Another piece of the puzzle. ]

There's nothing normal about me or my life.

[ Or society for that matter. They do live in a world that needs a man who dresses as a giant bat, after all. ]

[restingstitchface]

[Everybody imagines they are special. Nobody understands they are ordinary.]

Let me suggest the opposite. You attend those parties although you really don't want to be there. Other guests doubtlessly attend for similar reasons. Everything about that similarity is normal. People follow societal rules otherwise, well...

[His clinical, detached way of speaking breaks the remark apart. He idly gestures with one hand.]

That's the power of society, you really have to play along.

[Society is predictable. People clamber to shove each other, tredding upon them to climb to the top of the pile, only to hit the ceiling.]

[shoving]

[ Bruce can't decide if Crane is saying this because Bruce has effectively diverted Crane off the trail, convinced him Bruce really cares what his peers think of him. Or because that's what he wants Bruce to think. Was he playing the game? Bruce hates the uncertainty of it. ]

Peer pressure is powerful. Especially in a world like mine.

[restingstitchface]

Of course. I understand.

[Crane falls silent for a moment, staring at Bruce in a manner his peers had found challenging, but his grandmother had found insolent. He understands, truly, the pressure to conform.

He licks his lips and draws back, but only seems to fill more of the room.

Does he think Bruce does this because he wants to? Because he doesn't? Neither, really.]

But you go because it is necessary.

[shoving]

[ It's funny how often Crane stops and stares at him. Bruce never looks away from him, even if the staring edges into uncomfortable. And he can't help but feel like he's being sized up. ]

And because I like a good martini or three.

[ Under normal circumstances, Bruce thinks he'd get a chuckle or two out of the people he's chatting with. He doesn't think he'll get much of a reaction from Crane. ]

[restingstitchface]

[Well, wouldn't a reaction be comfortably uncomfortable?

Crane's face brightens with a smile.]

I had you pegged at four.

[Isn't this fun?]

[shoving]

[ Crane exudes intensity in a way Bruce is familiar with because he could match that energy. So the smile is. Unexpected. Something else to note about Dr. Crane. ]

No I can't handle more than three if I'm the designated driver.

[restingstitchface]

[One change in expression to pull the rug from beneath his feet. One more back to normal to toss it aside. He draws his smile into a line that thins his face; changing expressions is simple for a man who can control his emotions. Perhaps that is one reason he enjoys wearing his mask. He doesn't have to hide. He doesn't have to pretend.]

Isn't that illegal?

[But he's smiling inside? It is illegal. But does he care?]