Just Breathe

Chapter 20

Beth perched on the edge of the claw foot bath and contemplated the syringe lying on the counter in front of her.

After finding the vials of blocking serum, she'd immediately rummaged around in Bruce's bathroom looking for first aid supplies. Unsurprisingly - given his late night adventures - he had a well-stocked kit under his sink which contained a few packaged needles and syringes.

She'd quickly assembled one and filled it with the blue liquid.

But now she was hesitating, and she wasn't sure why.

With these blockers she could have a taste of the normal life she'd always dreamed of. She could go downstairs and hug Dory, the woman who'd always been so kind to her. She could take Alfred's hands in hers and thank him for always looking out for Bruce.

Bruce.

She could be with Bruce.

She didn't have to wait for some hypothetical, far-off day when her powers were under control, or she was inured to the effects of touching him.

She could be with him today. She could touch him and kiss him and make love to him and do all the things she'd been dreaming of for months.

So why the hell was she hesitating?

Was she worried about the effects of the mood stabiliser contained within the formula? No, it would be a small price to pay for such freedom.

Was she worried about rationing the scarce serum? There were only six vials after all...

No. If the last week had taught her anything, it was that life was too short to worry about the future.

So what the hell was it then?

Her subconscious whispered the answer: her father.

Beth gripped the edges of the porcelain tub and clenched her jaw, annoyed at the truth - her father had created that serum, and she didn't want to accept help from him, even after his death.

"You're being an idiot," she whispered to herself. An illogical, irrational idiot.

But in five short days, her father had really done a number on her; and she was only just starting to realise how deep the trauma went.

She needed to get over it.

Yes, he had created the serum - as a means to protect himself, and control her. But he was dead, and she had a life to live.

She needed to get over it.

Beth's head came up as she heard the faint ping of the elevator downstairs.

Bruce must be back.

All of a sudden, her trepidation disappeared. Bruce's presence gave her the clarity she needed; he was the knife slicing through the Gordian knot of her thoughts, unravelling the mess and showing her how simple it all was: her father owed her this.

After everything he'd put her and her mother through, six measly vials of blocking serum was the absolute least he could do to make it up to her.

She got to her feet, took a deep breath, and injected the serum into the crook of her arm. Then she checked her appearance in the mirror. She smoothed her hair into place and tugged Bruce's oversized shirt back onto her shoulder. She wished she'd worn something a little more alluring, but she didn't want to waste time changing now.

Her steps light, and her heart fluttering with anticipation, she left Bruce's suite and headed to the top of the stairs...

Where the sounds of a hushed conversation stopped her in her tracks.