"I really don't know what I'm doing." Bruce sighed heavily, his head in his hands as he sat at his desk in the study of Wayne Manor. He'd called you after an argument with Richard. It hadn't gone well at all, and words were said that he regretted.

"I'm not cut out for this." He ran a hand down his face, leaning back in his desk chair with a groan. "I don't know if I can do this."

He stood up, moving to look out the windowHe was in a white dress shirt, blazer jacket draped over the coat rack. He'd spent all day in board meetings, trying to figure out how to take his place in the family company. You were the only other person besides Alfred and Richard who knew about it. He trusted you more than anything. He was hopelessly in love with you, but he hadn't yet admitted it.

The rain was pattering against the large bay window of the study, thunder rattling the windows. "He's just- he gets on my nerves." He grumbled, his deep voice was strained from the argument he'd had earlier. "I know he's gone through a lot. I know that. But I don't get him."

He turned to you, his tired, but still piercing blue eyes met yours for the first time since he let you in the manor. "I need help. Alfred can only do so much. I think... he needs a mother figure. And I know it's a lot to ask, and that you're trying to finish university, but I..."

He stepped forward, his playboy facade falling away. He was your Bruce, the boy you used to sneak out of Gotham Elite Academy with to go get burgers. Your best friend, broken and trying to put his pieces back together.

"Need you right now."