Bruce Frowned Down At His Phone. He Hoped Andie Wasn't Sick... God, He Felthelplesshere, Countries And

Bruce frowned down at his phone. He hoped Andie wasn't sick... God, he felt helpless here, countries and seas and entire continents away from her, but there was nothing he could do right now. He tried to swallow back the nervousness in his throat as he dialed her number and held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, Andie?"

Four months. That was how long it had been since she'd last seen Bruce and it was driving her crazy. Two months prior she had gone to see Hank, thinking she had caught the stomach flu that had been going around. It turned out that that wasn't the case. She was pregnant. She honestly hadn't known what to do, Bruce had already left for a calmer place and she didn't have a reliable way to reach him. Finally, two months later, she was able to get a text through. [text] I need to talk to you asap.

Bruce frowned down at his phone. The woman talking frantically next to him quieted, and he stood. He assured the woman, in Bengali, that all was okay, and he would be right back. He left the woman and his patient and ducked outside, tapping out a reply.

[text] Okay, what’s up? Unless you’d prefer I called?

Bruce sighed. "Hi. I'm... I'm fine, I'm fine. How are you? What's wrong?" Bruce stepped a little closer to the house, trying to get away from the sounds of the street. The Jeeps rolling by, the shouting people, the arguing children - it all made a distinct cacophony. His patient coughed inside the little house. "Andie? What's going on?"

Four months. That was how long it had been since she'd last seen Bruce and it was driving her crazy. Two months prior she had gone to see Hank, thinking she had caught the stomach flu that had been going around. It turned out that that wasn't the case. She was pregnant. She honestly hadn't known what to do, Bruce had already left for a calmer place and she didn't have a reliable way to reach him. Finally, two months later, she was able to get a text through. [text] I need to talk to you asap.

Bruce frowned down at his phone. The woman talking frantically next to him quieted, and he stood. He assured the woman, in Bengali, that all was okay, and he would be right back. He left the woman and his patient and ducked outside, tapping out a reply.

[text] Okay, what’s up? Unless you’d prefer I called?

"I am responsible," Bruce said, trying valiantly to keep his pulse from skyrocketing from a combination of desire, frustration, and anger. He let his hands fall down to wrap around hers where hers were fisted in his shirt. He took a deep, steadying breath. 

"I am responsible for what H... for what the Other Guy does. It's a part of me. A part that split off, yeah, but it's there, inside of me. I'm there when he's out, and he's there when I'm out. And, you know, it should scare you. I worry, a little bit, that it doesn't." Bruce looked down at his hands over hers.

SPIT IT OUT!

"I’m not guilty!"

"That's okay," Bruce assured her. "I prefer when nobody knows who I am. The fact that you had no idea just means it's working." Bruce sipped at his water. "What is this for, anyways?"

Bruce smiled, a little bit. "I'll send you postcards, how's that sound? 'Wish you were here, in this Indian slum.' Sounds awesome, I'm sure they sell them." Bruce kissed her again. "I'll tell you before I leave. I can't imagine myself staying in New York too much longer. It's so... hectic." Bruce shifted, rubbing at her bare shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sure... You'll love life back at the school."

SPIT IT OUT!

"I’m not guilty!"

Bruce's expression softened. "Oh, Andie," he sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." Bruce trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'm a monster. You're an idiot. Sorry, but, yeah, you're an idiot for getting involved with me." He took a step closer to her. "If you're going back to the school, I just..." He took her face in his hands. "I'm sorry you were scared."

SPIT IT OUT!

"I’m not guilty!"