milliways_bar | (no subject)

Bruce has been keeping himself to himself since the incident with the cells a couple of weeks ago. But a man's got to eat, which is why he comes down around dinner time.

And immediately notices that his bar tab's lower. When you're on a budget, you keep track of these things.

'Bar? What's up with the bill?'

Nothing. He waits, but no. Nothing.

Frowning, he picks up his enchiladas and turns towards a booth in the corner. Which is when he spots Erik a little way down.

'Erik. Hey.'

"Bruce. How are you doing?" he asks.

'OK,' he says, carefully casual, like he's throwing off an answer without thinking about it.

'Mind if I join you?'

It would look weird to go sit on his own, and he'd like to catch up anyway. He's just trying to ignore all the...other stuff. And their last conversation.

"Sure."

The 'carefully casual' act doesn't fool Erik. He's known you too long, Bruce.

"Still here, then?" it's a casually pointed question.

'Yeah.'

He pulls a face and sits down, not dwelling on whether Selvig buys his demeanor.

'It's not ideal. But at least the food's good.'

Small talk. Bordering on cheerful, even. He can totally do this.

Erik chuckles. "The beer's not half bad, either. I suppose there are worse places to be stuck."

Of course he can. Erik knows now, but has no plans on telling. Not yet, anyway.

Bruce blinks, and looks disorientated for just a second before nodding.

'Sure. I guess.'

He eats a little bit, sips his water.

'So, what's new? How long's it been since you were here?'

"It's been a month for me. I've been working with Jane, checking her data's coming through fine."

"I got back to campus last week."

Here, Erik pauses to give Bruce a significant look. If there's something Bruce wants to say, now might be a good time.

There's no way to avoid that look. His fork stills, hovering over his plate, heart squeezing in his chest.

'Oh?' he says, again with the feigned casual. But there's no mistaking the sudden nervousness.

'Good to be home?'

"Relax Bruce. It's easier on all of us." Hopefully that should cue Bruce up to what Erik now knows.

"But, yeah. Good to be home. There's some interesting new building projects going on."

The repairs to the Sky-bridge could take some time, yet. Never mind the rest of the grounds.

He huffs something that's nothing like a laugh, and drops his fork on to his dinner.

'Something get broken?'

There's resignation in his tone, like he gets the game's up, but hoping not.

"The bridge. You know, the internal one, basically made of glass."

Erik's sure Bruce does.

And the game is up, but Erik has no intention of telling anyone, besides Bruce, at least. And maybe security, if they don't already know.

He quirks a tired smile. The brief attempt at being cheerful is already long gone.

'Did you speak to Betty?'

Erik smiles sadly.

"I did. She's fine."

"She told me what happened. At least, some of it. Enough, anyway."

'Oh.'

He doesn't even try to look him in the eye. Just gazes down at the bar-top, and wishes he could sink into the ground.

'Is she OK?'

Erik puts an arm on Bruce's shoulder, and repeats what he said just before he dropped the bombshell.

"She's fine."

"You want to take this outside? Where there's less people?"

Maybe he'll be more comfortable talking about it when there's less chance of them being overheard.

'Why? Afraid I might get-'

He breaks off, looks away and shakes his head, sharply.

'I'm fine.'

Not true.

'What did she tell you?'

"I was just thinking you might not want people to hear. And,"

Erik gestures around at the crowds.

Given he's not exactly volunteering the information, it seems to make sense that he'd sooner people didn't know.

Erik pauses, to let Bruce reconsider the offer.

[ooc: and I must go to bed! Slowtime <3 :)]

He thinks it's telling. The first thing someone does when hearing about it is help him keep it under wraps. Not all that different to Ross wanting to lock him in a cell for the rest of his natural life, really.

And of course, Erik's completely right. He doesn't want people to hear.

'Fine.'

He turns neatly on his stool, stands and grabs his jacket, all without looking at Selvig. He's brisk as he pulls it on; irritated, even. He should have known the guy would put it together. He just wasn't prepared for it to hit him here.

He stalks out without looking back.

Erik gathers his coat as well, and follows calmly, patiently. He doesn't pull his coat on yet, because he hasn't put the in bar date together to produce outside weather yet.

Until he gets outside. Whereupon, he promptly does just that, and pulls his coat on in a rush.

Then he turns to talk to Bruce.

"Bruce. I won't pretend I can understand your situation. I can't. I haven't been there, I can barely imagine it. Doesn't stop me being your friend, and having your best interests at heart. And the other guy doesn't change the fact that your a man. You're no less of a man now, than you were, what was it, ten? fifteen? years ago, when we first got to know each other. Also, given some of the footage I've seen, the other guy's more of a man than a surprisingly large number of men. And an awful lot better than that abomination that threw a hissy fit in the middle of Harlem, because it didn't have a playmate."

He can't help Bruce accept himself. But he can let him know that he is accepted for what he is. And maybe that'll help him accept himself.

Edited 2012-12-13 09:53 (UTC)

He appreciates the sentiment. Really.

You just wouldn't know it to look at him. He stares at Erik with something like disbelief, hands jammed in his pockets, eyes hard. For a long moment, he says nothing.

'I put Betty in the hospital.'

If that doesn't explain the problem in a nutshell, he doesn't know what will.

"And she's forgiven you for it," he replies earnestly.

It explains the problem clearly.

Bruce hasn't forgiven himself for something that took place five years ago. And that, sadly for Erik, is something he is unable to help with. Self-forgiveness can be far harder than forgiving others.

He looks away. Closes his eyes, and breathes deep.

'You don't-

-it'll happen again, you understand? Could happen any time, to anyone. Especially with the military on my tail. And I can't get rid of it.'

Erik looks Bruce in the eye, and waits for Bruce to return the look before speaking. It's important that Bruce gets this.

"I do understand that. And it's a risk I'm willing to take. Because you're a good enough man, and more than a good enough friend to have earned it."

The military chasing him? That is a genuine issue, though. Could SHIELD do something? Mayhap they could. Hell, it's odds on that they could. Whether they will or not, is another matter entirely. Whether they'd be better than the military remains up in the air. And Erik has no intentions of getting Bruce's hopes up on that one. But, he'll have a word with someone if he can.

"They actively chasing you? Even after Harlem?" he asks. He'd have thought they'd have learnt their lessons by now.

He gets that Erik thinks he means it. But Erik hasn't met the Other Guy, yet. He's pretty sure that'll put him off.

But it's besides the point. The wider point. Bruce's hands ball into fists in his pockets, until he notices and forces them to relax.

'I don't know. I have to assume so.'

But that's not what he wants the guy to understand. The military is a fact, and one he'll deal with. The issue that bothers him is himself.

'Look, Erik - I appreciate that you're supportive. Really. But it's not something that can be just...dealt with. You think I haven't been trying? I try, and try, and then he turns up and just destroys everything. And now I'm stuck here-'

He breaks off, because he's aware of his throat getting tight with nerves, and emotion he doesn't want to break out. Erik's been a good friend. Still is. The desire to talk to someone is overwhelming, but if he refuses to admit that the Other Guy is even a problem, then there's no hope of him understanding.

'-I can never come back, you know? It'll never be how it was.'