Pen bouncing against his forehead, Bruce’s hazel eyes snapped open, body jerking in his seat as he looked for the source of the offending projectile, mind on alert. Rick chortled, “I’d wonder if the accident just made you sleepier, but then I remembered you’ve always been like that.”
“Hrmn,” Bruce grunted, hand scratching at his brown stubble and adjusting his his askew glasses. Turning his chair back to the computer screen, half finished data entry still glowing at him, Bruce withdrew into his seat, head lolling over the back of his chair, the man groaning, “If this town didn’t have so many dogs barking at all hours...”
The edge of Rick’s lip twitched, “It’s not Betty keeping you up? Or, I guess it’d be mutual.”
Hunching back over his keyboard, hands going to work, Bruce admitted, “We might as well sleep in different beds. I get home late and she gets up early.”
“I was talking abou-”
“I know. Exactly what you are talking about.” Rick gave a knowing chortle as he turned back to his business. Bruce looked at the clock to see he was still stuck for a few more hours, but Rick said, “You wanna leave early? I can finish up for you.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, not knowing Rick to be so charitable with his free time. “Really?” Rick glanced around at the nearly empty computer lab at the base. “I don’t have much else to do. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Heart soothed with eternal gratitude, Bruce logged himself off, gladly taking off into the evening air of Los Diablos Air Force Base. The setting sun started to bring in the chill of the desert night, but it wasn’t a long walk to the parking lots from the lab. Slipping into his dingy pickup, Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Head leaning back, he turned to see the lab again, one hand grasping at his chest, the spot where he was struck with the beam of radiation that should have killed him. It was his own fault, since he took no heed to the security policies he’d had to explain himself, but mostly he was glad that aside from the hospital bills and the worry, it really hadn’t caused much trouble.
The Navapo streetlights were dim and dirty as Bruce mumbled his way through the light drone of the town in twilight the windshield of his car was framed in dust, only the footprints of his windshield wipers having only just left space enough to see. Turning through a light, a sudden motion made him jump, slamming on the breaks. His pickup jerked to a stop, Bruce looking out his slightly open window to see a mangy mutt skirting off, clearly panicked. Yelping noises echoing in his brain, Bruce flinched, suddenly crushed with a wave of remembrance, the memories hardly nostalgic, going back to shortly before the accident. Cringing, the pace of his vehicle slowed, suddenly a bit less eager to get home, but a sluggish pace did not steer him away from his course, and he drove in his apartment complex no less guilty. Mind still racing, replaying dogged memories he couldn’t seem to shake the more he thought about them, he stumbled to his door wishing he could think of just about anything else. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door and slipped in, not even turning on the light as he peeked in, spotting the light of the television blinking about the living area, a shape unmoving under a blanket on the couch. Door closing with but a faint hush, lock clicking closed, Bruce kept his step light as he moved in deeper.
“I’m not sleeping you know.”
“Oh jesus!” Bruce gasped out at the noise, hand jumping to clutch his chest, the man stepping back from shock. Catching a breath, he cracked a smile, as did Betty, his overreaction quickly becoming a source of amusement. Finding it in him to laugh at his foolishness, he joined Betty on the couch, taking a seat. “You’re home early.”
“Rick took over,” Bruce explained. Glancing at the TV, ads for some drug with about a million horrible possible side effects playing, Bruce’s mood shifted back to before the door opened, shoulders slumping. Betty took notice, shifting out of her light blanket a bit, mid length dark hair rolling back over the shoulder of her white t-shirt. Not even giving her the chance to inquire, Bruce admitted, “I almost hit a dog. On the way back.”
Slumping back, Betty groaned, “It’s Navapo, I’m surprised they aren’t barking up a storm right now.” With her leaving the subject on the ground, Bruce noticed he’d been fiddling with his fingers. So did Betty. “What?” The woman sat up, torso poking out of her blanket as she put the TV out of her sight. Bruce couldn’t help but swallow, heart starting to pick up pace even from just her appearance in the scattered TV light. “A little while ago, before the accident...with the dog...” Bruce murmured. Betty closed her eyes in understanding, moving to the remote and lowering the TV’s volume, quickly saying, “I’m sorry.”
Bruce stopped, blinking as he glanced at her out of the side of his eyes. Even in the low light he could see her slump. “I...you were trying to protect me.”
Bruce flinched, “But I didn’t...I don’t get angry like that. That’s not me.” Grasping and putting pressure on one finger, he heard that yelp of pain echo in his head again and cringed at himself. It hadn’t even been a particularly big dog that went for them, went for Betty, but Bruce put all his strength into that kick, and then had to watch in shame as it trudged away in pain. Betty admitted, “I got mad at you because I didn’t realize what had happened.”
Bruce sighed, “But I didn’t have to do it.” Betty watched him as he kept his head down, reasoning, “I could have just...yelled or something. Spooked it a little.” Betty was quiet, slowly reaching out a hand, resting it on his knee. Bruce felt his body tense, and his hands stopped fidgeting, but he did not push her away. He never would. Betty said, “Well, what happened, happened. Maybe if there’s a next time...”
Bruce winced. “I don’t want there to be a next time. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Betty gave him a look. “I’m tougher than that.” Bruce knew. Taking her hand off his knee, Betty kept quiet as Bruce let out a breath of relief. Separating his hands, he took a breath before making a request. “I’ll do what I can but...if you feel like something’s wrong, could you...”
“...try and stop me?”
Betty tilted her head, hair falling over her face as she smiled knowingly. Grateful for everything, knowing he didn’t deserve a thing, he couldn’t quite look at her, though a smile found its way to his face. Looking up to the TV screen, actors moving about in intense silence, it became blurred as Bruce choked back tears. Standing up, he swallowed, managing to say with just enough of a casual tone, “I’m getting a shower.”
“Please,” Betty remarked, taking up her relaxed spot on the couch again and reaching for the remote. Bruce felt the edges of his lips twitch as he moved out, amazed at her ability to flip between the sincere and the sarcastic. Amazed at her everything.
If anything happened to her, Bruce didn’t know what he would do.
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