serendipity. [superbat]

crash.

Bruce wasn't the type to slow down, especially when things got uncomfortable. He tended to just keep going. If he finished one thing, he'd find something else to distract himself with. Right now, his body's response to his current condition was unpredictable, so he was currently prohibited from Batman related activities that involved getting his hands dirty. Robin had temporarily taken on those responsibilities. So, Bruce distracted himself with being Bruce Wayne.

He went into the office early, spent more time in meetings than he had in his entire life, talked like a businessman actually interested in his own business. He spent the majority of the breaks he took in the bathroom, and no one commented on it, most likely assuming that he was severely hungover. He stayed overtime to talk to Mr. Fox, who was clearly suspicious of Bruce's sudden enthusiasm in Wayne Industries books over its toys, but said nothing as he handed them over. After work, Bruce Wayne went to fancy parties, pretended to consume copious amounts of alcohol, talked to people, maybe even accidentally seduced a couple before bailing when they wanted to get him into bed. He'd stumble home at two in the morning and ignore Robin's questioning stares as he pulled up the intel his bugs had collected. 

Diana's off handling business somewhere in the world and Clark's got appearances to keep up at the Daily Planet, so Bruce spirals. 

It was a cycle he was familiar with, but it didn't stop him from blindly walking into it every time. He goes two weeks straight before it finally hits him. His body just shuts down. Usually, he'd go about two months before a close call during an encounter with some criminal would wake him up from the trance. Though, this time his "wake-up call" is waking up in a pile of sweaty sheets. He tries to make his way towards the toilet, but he feels as if he's swimming, only managing to make it to the sink before tossing up what he's managed to consume. So, water. He rinses his mouth and turns the shower on before stumbling over to the closet with the intention of finding something to wear for work. He grabs the first suit that makes its way into his line of sight and tosses it onto the bed. He makes his way back to the bathroom, dropping his underwear somewhere on the way, and climbs into shower with the hopes that it would wash away the utter exhaustion that's begun to settle deep into his bones. 

He climbs out, grabs a towel and dries off, before sauntering back into his bedroom to get dressed. He's slipping into autopilot until he gets to the buttons of his top. The crisp button up was fitted, purchased to show off the pristine physique of a bachelor who spent all of his free time in the gym. It'd fit him perfectly the last time he'd dredged it out of the closet. Now, there was noticeable gaping between each button that settled over the curve of his stomach. 

It shouldn't be a surprise, but he still finds himself staring blankly into the mirror at the way the buttons struggled to clasp. He deftly runs his fingers over the slight mound that's now his stomach, finally stopping to take it in. It could be passed off as a little bit of bloating, an unnoticeable change, but he can't seem to tug his gaze away from the new development.

 Once he manages to snap out of it, he quickly undoes the buttons of the shirt before tossing it over to the side and heading back into the closet, grabbing for a top that sat a little looser on him. He pulls the shirt on and quickly does up the buttons before stopping in the middle of his stomach as the buttons struggle to stay in their respective button holes, revealing the tank top underneath. 

That was all it took. That was all it took to knock him out of the cycle. A fucking shirt. It's 7 AM and he's frantically wading through his closet, tossing shirt after shirt over his head, before the imminent crash happens. He collapses into the pile of shirts at the bottom of his closet, unshed tears in his eyes as he panics. None of it made any sense, he wasn't even that far along, having caught the pregnancy so early. He should have time. Why doesn't he have time?