prynovel Chapter 134 The Long Wait
Chapter 134 The Long Wait
Chapter 134 The Long Wait
Levi practically made the mountain cabin where he hid with Bruce his only refuge in the dead of night.
By day, he was a subservient police consultant under Bane, gathering intelligence on the edge of a knife, carefully considering every word and action, afraid of revealing even the slightest flaw.
At night, shedding all pretense, he would traverse through dense forests and thorny thickets, his feet treading on dew and mud, heading towards the light hidden in the mountains.
He had walked this road countless times, each step weighing heavily on worries and expectations, making it hard for him to breathe.
The door to the cabin was always ajar. Alfred dared not sleep too soundly; even closing his eyes for a moment filled him with unease.
As Li Wei entered, the warm yellow light would first envelop him in the night dew and chill, dispelling the cold he had endured along the way.
But this readily available warmth could not suppress the lingering heaviness and deathly silence in the room.
Bruce remained lying motionless in bed, like a soulless statue, devoid of any life.
Li Wei put down the medicines and nutritional supplements he had brought from Gotham overnight, moving so quietly that he dared not make a sound, for fear of disturbing the person in bed.
He first walked to the bedside, lowered his head to carefully examine Bruce's breathing and skin color, his fingertips hovering in mid-air, not daring to touch him easily.
The man's face remained as pale as paper, his lips were dry and cracked, his eyes were tightly closed, but his brows were always slightly furrowed.
It's as if even in sleep, one is enduring endless pain, resentment, and self-torture.
As per their pre-arranged division of labor, Levi would take over the caregiving duties, allowing Alfred, who had been working tirelessly for days, to get some rest.
He first wrung out the warm towel, controlled the temperature, and carefully lifted a corner of the blanket, his movements were incredibly gentle.
Bruce's body was frighteningly thin. His once firm and smooth muscles had gradually become loose due to prolonged bed rest, and he had lost his former strength.
The medical brace fixing his spine left faint red marks, each one a reminder of the devastating injury Li Wei had suffered.
When the towel wiped his chest, arms, shoulders, and neck, Li Wei's movements were as light as touching fragile glass, gently wiping away the thin layer of sweat and dust from his skin.
He dared not exert force, much less go too fast, for fear of aggravating Bruce's still-healing bones and nerves and worsening his pain.
Old wounds and new scars are intertwined on his pale skin, the blood Batman shed and the wounds he endured for Gotham.
Now, however, they have become the densest and sharpest needles piercing Li Wei's heart, causing him excruciating pain with every glance.
Massaging the limbs is the most arduous and uninterrupted part of the entire care process.
Li Wei pressed his hands against Bruce's stiff calves, slowly kneading, pushing, and stretching them, strictly following the doctor's instructions.
The doctor repeatedly emphasized that daily massage is essential; otherwise, the muscles will atrophy rapidly and become irreversible.
Once his muscles completely atrophy, even if his spine recovers, Bruce will never be able to stand up again and will be bedridden forever.
No matter how gentle, precise, or attentive Levi's technique was, Bruce didn't react at all.
His limbs had lost their former explosiveness and agility, leaving only passive heaviness, like a piece of wood without feeling.
As his fingertips touched the gradually loosening skin beneath his body and he felt the strength slowly slipping away, Li Wei's heart sank a little deeper.
He knew better than anyone that the city had lost not only a hero, but also a person's entire pride and dignity.
Alfred leaned against the door, watching this scene. His old eyes were bloodshot, filled with exhaustion and tenderness.
This once composed and dignified butler, who had never lost his composure throughout his life, had long since lost all his glamour; his temples were now covered in white hair, and the wrinkles around his eyes were frighteningly deep.
He brought warm water and liquid food, gently placing them on the bedside table. His movements were slow, and he sighed softly, his voice hoarse.
"Mr. Li, thank you for your hard work. The gentleman is still the same as always, refusing to cooperate at all."
Li Wei didn't turn around, but kept moving his hands, his voice low, filled with undisguised heartache.
"I don't care. As long as he feels better, anything is worth it. I'm not afraid of being tired."
He paused, his fingertips faltering slightly, and his tone grew heavier: "The muscle atrophy is happening faster than expected; we cannot give up."
"Even if there's only a sliver of hope, we must persevere. This is the city he risked his life to protect; he can't just fall like this."
Just then, the person on the bed suddenly trembled slightly, so faintly that it was almost imperceptible.
Levi and Alfred held their breath, even their breathing became soft, their hearts pounding wildly, not daring to make the slightest disturbance.
The next second, Bruce slowly opened his eyes, those eyes that were once as sharp as an eagle, as firm as iron, and that illuminated the darkness of Gotham.
At this moment, only emptiness remained; there was no light, no god, no anger, and no struggle.
He just stared straight at the ceiling, as if gazing at an endless wasteland, with no end and no way out.
His gaze was unfocused, as if his soul had long since drifted away from this broken body, leaving only an empty shell.
The world seemed to have lost its color and sound in his eyes, leaving only endless grayness and despair.
Li Wei's heart clenched painfully in that instant, as if gripped tightly by an invisible hand, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Bruce woke up, but it was more heartbreaking and left people feeling helpless than when he was unconscious.
He didn't look at Levi, he didn't look at Alfred, and he didn't look at the mountain cabin that had taken him in.
It was as if everything around him was irrelevant to him, as if he had long been abandoned by the world, and had abandoned the whole world.
All that remained was endless self-isolation and a deep-seated despair.
Alfred immediately stepped forward, knelt by the bedside, and spoke in a soft, almost trembling voice, with a cautious plea.
"Sir, you're awake. I've prepared some nutritional supplements for you. Would you like to drink just a little bit?"
He picked up the syringe-like supplement and gently brought it to Bruce's lips, his movements delicate, as if afraid of offending him.
But Bruce simply kept his lips tightly shut, tilted his head slightly, and refused decisively without the slightest hesitation.
"Sir, you must eat, otherwise your body will not be able to hold on, and your injuries will only get worse."
Alfred's voice was tinged with suppressed sobs; this was the first time Levi had ever seen him so distraught and helpless.
"Think of Gotham, think of the people who are still waiting for you, think of everything you've protected—"
Before he could finish speaking, a sharp pain flashed across Bruce's empty eyes, and his whole body trembled slightly.
He abruptly closed his eyes, letting out a suppressed groan, weak yet filled with pain.
It's not the physical pain, but the pain of having my soul torn apart, the pain of having my pride crushed.
Li Wei stood to the side, his hand holding the towel trembling slightly, his knuckles turning white. He understood all of Bruce's struggles.
Bruce didn't not want to live; he was afraid to accept his defeat and face his own incompetence.
He is Batman, the guardian of Gotham's darkness, an indomitable symbol, and the only light in the hearts of the people.
But now, he can't even turn over, he can't even sit up, and even raising his hand is extremely difficult.
His spine was broken, he lost all his strength, and his dignity was trampled underfoot and crushed to pieces by Bane.
He became the very thing he hated and couldn't accept—a useless person, a burden, a failed guardian.
"go out."
Bruce suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood, weak yet carrying an irresistible obsession.
Just two words, yet they were like a cold blade, slicing through the silence of the room and shattering Alfred's heart.
Alfred froze, his eyes instantly reddening, tears welling up but he dared not let them fall.
"gentlemen----"
I said, get out.
Bruce's voice rose slightly, trembling on the verge of collapse, his emotions almost out of control.
He kept his eyes closed, his brows furrowed, his cheeks slightly tense from suppressing his emotions, and his whole body exuded resistance.
"I don't want to see anyone. Leave me alone."
Levi gently tugged at Alfred's arm, shook his head slightly, and gestured with a firm look in his eyes for him to leave first.
He understood that any words of advice at this moment would only rub salt into Bruce's wounds and make him more withdrawn.
The person whose pride has been crushed needs not comfort or encouragement, but space to be alone.
Even if this solitude means burying oneself in deeper darkness, it's better than being watched and suffering.
Alfred's lips trembled as he tried to say something, but he eventually stood up slowly, his steps heavy as if they were made of lead.
He glanced at Bruce one last time, his eyes filled with pity, helplessness, and deep worry.
He kept looking back as he walked out of the room, his steps heavy, and he closed the door gently without making a sound.
Inside the cabin, only Levi and Bruce, who was lying on the bed, remained, and a deathly silence fell over the room.
Li Wei did not leave, but stood silently by the bedside, without speaking, touching, or disturbing.
He looked at Bruce's tightly closed eyes, and at a single tear that silently slid down his cheek, a tear that felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
The tear slid down his temple and into his hair, disappearing without a trace, but it felt like a boulder crashing into Li Wei's heart.
Li Wei had never seen Batman cry before; this scene almost suffocated him, filling him with a helpless heartache.
Even heroes cry, feel vulnerable, and break down.
Guardians also get tired, feel pain, and can be overwhelmed by despair.
Even the bat that never falls can be swallowed by darkness and defeated by failure.
And he could only watch helplessly, unable to do anything or change anything.
Li Wei gently sat down on the chair beside the bed, his movements slow and quiet.
He stayed quietly by his side, like a silent shadow, neither disturbing nor pressuring, just silently accompanying him.
The night wind outside the window rustled through the trees, making a sound like a low sob or a silent sigh.
Inside the room, only Bruce's suppressed and weak breathing rose and fell, each breath tugging at Levi's heart.
After an unknown amount of time, Bruce's emotions gradually calmed down; he stopped trembling and his tension subsided.
He remained staring blankly at the ceiling, his eyes still open, without uttering a word, like an emotionless sculpture.
Li Wei knew that this was his most vulnerable, most paranoid, and most self-exiled moment.
Refusing treatment, refusing to eat, refusing hope, refusing everything, punishing their failure with self-destruction.
He was torturing himself, punishing his incompetence, and punishing his defeat in the cruelest way.
Li Wei felt as if his heart was being tightly gripped by a hand, the pain making it hard to breathe, yet he didn't know how to relieve it.
He didn't try to persuade me, didn't preach, and didn't offer any weak words of comfort.
Some wounds can only be melted away by companionship and soothed by time.
From that day on, Li Wei came to the cabin every day without fail, rain or shine, without ever missing a day.
Wipe the body, massage the limbs, change dressings, adjust the spinal support, and take care of all the daily chores.
He never forced Bruce to speak, nor did he force him to eat or cooperate with treatment.
She simply did everything quietly, then sat quietly by his side, keeping him company and watching over him.
Alfred tried countless times to persuade him, using all his gentleness and firmness, and saying everything he could.
He spoke of the Wayne couple, of Gotham, of justice, of responsibility, of everything that had sustained Bruce.
But each time, all I got in return was a more silent rejection, a more closed-off heart, and a colder resistance.
No matter what I say, it's like a stone sinking into the sea, unable to stir up the slightest ripple.
"Sir, you can't give up on yourself like this. You still have a lot to do."
"Batman can fall, but Bruce Wayne cannot die, he cannot give up on himself."
"You still have us, you still have hope, you still have a chance to turn things around. Bain has only won temporarily."
"Bane can't beat justice, he can't beat Gotham, and he certainly can't beat you."
Bruce's response was always silence or a cold "Leave me alone," without any attempt to soften the blow.
He locked himself in the despair of paralysis, rejecting all light, all warmth, and all hope. Li Wei saw this and felt pain in his heart, but he never said anything, never interrupted, and never interfered.
He knew that language was ridiculously pale and pitifully powerless in the face of such deep-seated despair.
So Li Wei changed his approach, a silent but resolute one.
He stopped trying to persuade or encourage, and stopped using jarring words like "cheer up" or "be strong."
He would simply sit by the bedside every day, speaking softly and gently, telling stories of Gotham.
It speaks of those whom Bruce risked his life to protect, and of the people who are still waiting for his return.
"Today, an ordinary family in the old town had their shop smashed and everything stolen by Bain's mercenaries."
"Their youngest daughter, who is only seven years old, secretly drew the Batman logo and hid it in her pocket, afraid that no one would find out."
She whispered to her mother that Batman would definitely come back, drive away all the bad guys, and protect everyone.
Li Wei's voice was soft, like an evening breeze brushing against a windowpane, gentle yet powerful.
"The dockworkers were bullied by the fugitives, who stole their hard-earned money, and some were even seriously injured."
"Several brave villagers secretly hid the injured workers in an abandoned warehouse and brought them water and food."
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"They dared not resist, dared not speak out, yet they still did not lose the kindness and justice in their hearts."
"Someone secretly drew bat symbols on the wall, and immediately wiped them off afterward, fearing that the mercenaries would discover them and kill them."
"They are still waiting, waiting for that black figure to reappear in the Gotham night sky, waiting for Batman to return."