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Bruce had taken the doctor’s advice and took time off work- as Bruce Wayne, of course, and not as the batman. He was honestly quite grateful for the advice. He could focus more on his nightly duties, secretly continuing on pursuing them during the day, not in action, but he could collect and work out information in the batcave, as well as train to be stronger. Alfred cursed the doctor for this- although Bruce was taking more care of himself, just not in the way Alfred wanted. The plan was that Bruce would do his nightly stuff at night, and during the day, he’d actually sleep. Shocker. He was frankly turning into an actual bat, but at least he was going to get some sleep. Well the ‘sleep’ was more like naps. Although that wasn't working too well.
He thought he had it all figured out- the sleeping and selfcare, but there just HAD to be an obstacle. The obstacle being- well this was really embarrassing to admit even in thought- doctor Crane. Yes, the very same doctor who had suggested it to him to take a break and relax, was the one stopping him from fully relaxing. He wouldn't admit what was the cause of his sleeplessness, but the dark circles under his eyes and agitation was evident. Alfred was fed up. Bruce had no problem sleeping during the day when in business meetings, but now he couldn’t?! In the comfort of his manor?! There was without a doubt something wrong.
What Alfred didn’t know was that Bruce was sort of doing it to himself.
Whenever he’d lay in bed, he would imagine the warmth of his bedsheets were dr. Crane.
And when he’d sleep, he’d dream of dr. Crane’s raw blue eyes piercing him from behind his spectacles.
And when he’d wake up, he’d find himself clinging to a pillow in a strong embrace, pretending it were the body of Dr. Crane-
You get the gist of it.
The less he slept, the less he found himself fantasising about the man who he only met once- and to that- his therapist, for pity’s sake!
He couldn’t however delay taking showers- especially after he returned from his batman duties. That would be a bit too unhygienic. You can just figure what he envisioned when the water hit and trickled down his naked body, caressing all of him…
pale long fingers tracing down his shoulders, down his bare chest, down his stomach, down, down, down…
Despite the fantasies being a tad worse in the shower, he couldn’t skip them, unlike his miserable naps. He could bear missing a few nights- well days sleep, but not a few showers. He just had to fight those intrusive thoughts no matter how hard that was. Sometimes he imagined fighting Superman would be easier than fighting the thoughts.
These fantasies revolted him. Why was he daydreaming all that? It's not like the other man felt the same about him, surely. They only met once and the doctor had surely already forgotten about him. So why, why, why did he want the daydreams to come true deep down? He felt so wrong and so perverted about it. He didn’t allow himself to fantasise.
Alfred could tell something was tormenting Bruce- well, other than usual. Bruce wouldn’t tell him what was going on, always just answering something along the lines of I’m fine, Alfred. He wouldn’t explain what had gotten to him, but he kept finding Bruce dozing off in random places. In the batcave; by the dinner table. Maybe Bruce just had a thing for sleeping in chairs? Well whatever it was, if Bruce wouldn’t speak to him, he would have to speak to someone else. And who was the first person Alfred thought of? Naturally Bruce’s childhood best friend! Rachel Dawes. He told Bruce she would be coming over for lunch.
“Would you two fancy some tea?” Alfred glanced meaningly at Rachel who was taking a slice of pie apart with a teaspoon. Now is the time- she understood and nodded with a polite smile.
“ It’s nice to see you, Bruce.” The Bruce she was speaking to was presently zoning out, staring into the pie, barely blinking, as if it held all the secrets of the universe and they’d come to him if he just stared into it a bit longer. After quite a few moments it occurred to him that he had been spoken to.
“Hmm” He grumbled absent-mindedly “Yes yes, nice to see you too.” It was so strange, he never treated her this distantly, he had always been so delighted to talk to her, even if she treated him more hostilely at times. When she acted that way, it wasn’t because she hated Bruce, it was for his own good- he was too foolish at moments and needed the reprimandings. Even when the man had been down below and lost in life, he listened to Rachel, and respected her, and now he was almost ignoring her.
She was torn out of her thoughts when he suddenly jerked up and stared with wide eyes- into her’s, as if he had just seen a ghost. He then squinted and stared, like he was trying to figure something out. He mumbled something unintelligible about eyes? Her eyes? Dear. Alfred was right (of course). Something was very wrong. Did he bang his head when carelessly chasing criminals? She was starting to get royally creeped out when he suddenly spoke.
“Your eyes? What colour are your eyes?”
“What?”
“What colour are your eyes?” Bruce repeated his question as if it made more sense now. Rachel was taken aback, to say the least.
“Green. Why?”
“Hm. I never could tell.”
“Bruce. When did you last sleep?”
“And I never asked.”
He continued after a moment of silence in which Rachel was trying to gather her thoughts.”I thought it would come across as flirting. How stupid.”
“Well this is far from flirting.” She tried to go along with his nonsense. It didn’t work.
“That’s because I’m not flirting with you. What don’t you understand?”
Rachel sputtered in confusion and frustration. “Anything! I don’t understand anything you’re saying!” She stood up and threw her arms up in desperation. Bruce silently observed as she calmed herself down. With a deep sigh, she sat back down.
“I don’t get it, Bruce. What happened? I haven’t heard of any controversial public appearances of yours in weeks. Tell me, what's going on?” Her tone fully softened with her last words. She was genuinely worried for him. And it wasn’t like she deliberately was checking up on Bruce in the newspapers, no of course not, it was just that all her friends would tell her the hot gotham gossip, even if she didn’t care or want to hear about Bruce Wayne’s most recent antics. Once it stopped for a little too long, everybody assumed he went on vacation, but here he was, still in his manor, looking and acting absolutely miserable.
“I’m following medical advice; I’m taking a break from work. Dr. Crane suggested.” He closed his stinging eyes and allowed himself this once to think about him.
“You don’t look like you’re taking a break from work- wait, did you say Dr. Crane? Doctor Jonathan Crane??”
“Mhm” He hummed, still thinking about mighty Dr. Crane sitting behind his cluttered desk, glaring at Bruce.
“Why was that creep giving you medical advice?” Bruce’s eyes snapped open.
“Because I had an appointment with him- and what do you mean by ‘creep’?”
“He’s the one keeping criminals out of blackgate! He just has them sent to Arkham.” She had concern written all over her face, as she recalled the doctor in her mind. Her voice lowered down like she was telling ghost stories by a campfire. “They somehow..”- She hesitated, afraid of her words sounding crazy. But this was Bruce Wayne she was talking to. The Batman. She couldn’t get crazier than he was.- “..Get more psychotic after speaking with him, during their, you know- assessment.” If Bruce’s stomach dropped at that, it was only his business, and he certainly didn’t let it show. “ And what do you mean- appointment..?”
Psychotic? No, Bruce wasn’t psychotic. He had his quirks but he wasn’t mental like that! And the way he was acting after the appointment.. It wasn’t psychotic. Right? He just… couldn’t get the image of the doctor out of his mind. He wasn’t psychotic! Seriously!
However, now that he thought back, Dr. Crane may have been a biiiit creepy. Honestly Bruce blamed the unease he felt towards the doctor during the session on his unexplained wave of anxiety that hit him earlier. He thought he was overreacting, after all he did act quite a bit irrationally.
I have my methods. Fuck. Maybe he hadn’t been overreacting.
Due to Bruce’s lack of continuation of the conversation, Rachel started to panic.
“Oh god. He did something to you, didn't he??”
That almost anaemic-looking skin tone. That perfectly tailored navy blue suit and tie. And that slicked back, dark hair that created the perfect contrast with his eyes. Oh those eyes. They were so perfect. So much more perfect than Rachel’s, whose were unclearly coloured, like a puddle or a swamp. How did he ever find her attractive when Dr Crane existed? How could he find anyone attractive now that he had met Dr. Crane?
Oh you have no clue, Rachel.- He wanted to answer, but instead he smiled and glared into her eyes with an accompanying newfound tinge of disgust for them. Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix. He almost chuckled at the thought.
Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix. Yes. He had to schedule another appointment.
“I'm sorry I worried you, Rachel. I’m fine.” Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix.
He sobered up and put on a serious look on his face. He didn’t want to scare her anymore than he already did. “I’ve just.. Had some trouble sleeping.” Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix. She visibly calmed down a little.
Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix.
“Nothing another appointment wouldn’t fix.”