Chapter Text
So much of Bruce's life had changed by the time he returned home. He was able to reunite with the ones he stood close by, the ones that supported him during his hardest moments, and most of all they helped him get back on his feet while recovering. He couldn't appreciate it enough.
One week passed upon his reunion with the band and going back to London. It seemed as if time sped up as a result, but that meant he'd be farther away from the month he'd been trapped in the futuristic city. His life returned to normal…except for his hand. His dominant hand would be wrapped in fresh bandages, as the hospital referred him in as quick as they could, based on his condition. His face would no longer retain the dark bags beneath his eyes and he managed to regain some of the weight he lost, so he—evidently—was doing a lot better now. His bandaged palm wouldn't sting as frequently, either. In fact, he started to accept what he did, refusing to feel guilty over risking severe damage to it. However, he noticed when he tensed his fist the pain returns, so he improvised limits on how often he used it.
Destroying the test tube seemed necessary, even when he could've simply done it a safer way. He didn't exactly bother worrying about it anymore. As he thought about everything while he rested in the studio, he would be reminded about the one mystery that would be solved to him so easily, and he was so oblivious about it: Eddie. Even though he had been informed about the entity's story, he kept wondering if there was more. He wanted to find out if the drones would tell the same story. Would they be the ones to lie? Just the thought sounded pathetic. Of course they would lie about it, and the only problem was the vast majority were destroyed by Eddie's wrath alone. There wouldn't be the other side. Not at the moment.
One fair morning rolled around during mid-June, and a realization clicked in Bruce's mind. Wouldn't Eddie have come back by now? Such a thought sunk into his gut, wondering why the entity was still absent. Perhaps he was still cleaning up? Was he occupied with other responsibilities? He almost wanted to think he should go back to check on him, just in case things were running smoothly.
Bruce sat by the window and absorbed in the sun, wearing a new pair of cargo pants and a lighter tank top to match. He'd lean against the wall on the floor, resting his uninjured hand behind his head as he sighed. The vocalist was sitting by the windows more often, since he believed he needed the sun after being deprived for weeks. And, being admitted to the hospital only blocked him from more sunlight, as he resided there for half of the week.
He glanced over at the other occupied rooms, where everyone else was enjoying themselves and messing around. However, he noticed a silhouette approaching him and joining him on the floor. It was Janick, who checked-in with the band after showing up for the day, with the others working on mixing the album. The long, blond-haired guitarist grew bored and wanted to sit with Bruce for the time being.
"Good morning, Bruce!" Janick softly exclaimed, smiling at Bruce. "We didn't even see you come in. You've been real quiet the last few days. How are you doing?"
Bruce grinned back and greeted Janick. "Still getting readapted to everything. Sorry I'm not with the mates," he said, proceeding to place his hands on one of his knees. "Just…thinking about some things and I'd rather not bother them about me reflecting, y'know? Plus, being around actual people again hit me more than I thought it would. Trust me, nobody was there, except for those bloody drones and Eddie."
"Yeah," Janick replied, looking down at the floor momentarily. "I don't know if I can think about what you've been through. At least you're looking better than how you turned up."
Bruce agreed with him. It was better if the others didn't burden themselves with the idea of being imprisoned for weeks on end. That was definitely something the vocalist didn't want happening to anyone else. "Yeah. I'm still dwelling on what I went through there, and what Eddie experienced then. It's nothing more than a fate worse than death, if you ask me…did I ever tell you guys how I found out about him?"
Janick shook his head. Then, Bruce caught the sensation of his chest pausing, as he didn't elaborate about too much when telling the whole story. Of course, Janick listened to him fully and quietly.
"It first started with an axe. While wandering around the city, I tripped over an axe that the drones left on accident—which I don't know how they missed it—and I decided to take it and inspect it. Eddie's axe was left in the city, and it made me think he was there, which would only be proven the more weird the drones acted when they saw me with it. The impact happened, I don't have to explain that again, but when I headed to the facility I broke into an argument with one of them, which they said the test tube was a 'serious threat'. The light of the test tube told me not to destroy it, so of course I listened. Then I went inside, got cleaned up—I'm taking too long—I talked to Eddie and found out it was him when he caused the entire facility to tremble and said verbatim, 'it's mine' when I brought up his axe. So that whole time I had him, and I didn't know."
Janick seemed mesmerized. Bruce didn't appear phased as he shared the story. That point, Bruce quietly worried the others would believe he was insane. But nothing would be brought up. According to the guitarist, he liked learning more in relation to Bruce's time in the futuristic city.
"I should ask you…how are you doing?"
Janick noticed himself jump in place. He didn't expect Bruce to ask how he'd been doing, let alone recovering from something traumatic for him. "Oh! Well, I'm doing okay. It was hard without you. All of us were having a bad time. In fact, Steve had to redirect his attention to a side project just because you were gone. Remember the lead single we established?"
Bruce nodded, now curious. He would then listen to Janick explain the project Steve worked on, that being the story of Benjamin Breeg, and he kept work-shopping every other day, since he finally had things to do again. The guitarist brought up the little stories that would happen in it, and why Steve created the character in the first place. Janick easily got caught up in explaining the concept, since he had written so much. According to Jan, a surprisingly large stack of papers and organized notes all over the desk. Most of the writing remained there, too. The vocalist knew he would have to check it out, eventually.
"Seems like not much has changed while I was gone," Bruce admitted, keeping the smile stretched on his face. "It's quite lovely to see."
"It is," Janick chuckled. He would quickly cut himself off as the room grew silent. Someone still appeared missing, and Janick gazed around before looking back at Bruce. "Hey, is there any reason why Eddie hasn't invited himself back in here yet? I thought he would be back by now."
Bruce gazed at his shoes, simply agreeing with him before he gave Janick a response. "I've been thinking of him a bit, and it's weird that he's not here. I'm sure he's still in the abandoned city—ruins, though this is not like him. It makes me wonder if I should go out there again and see if he's doing alright. He did say he didn't know when he'd be back, but it's reaching a point this isn't exactly…normal—"
Janick sprung from the wall and stood in front of Bruce, terror forming in his face as soon as Bruce mentioned leaving.
"Bruce! Do you hear yourself? Steve is gonna kill you if you pull a stunt like that a second time! Not only that, you've hung around for a week, and most of that you were hospitalized for! He doesn't want you to get hurt again, and especially with you still recovering," Janick advised Bruce, his voice firm but certain. "You should expect him to say no, trust me. I'm unsure how well asking him could go, but I feel it won't be great for you."
Bruce rose to his feet, with the help of Janick as he reached out for the vocalist. The latter used both of his hands to grab onto the guitarist, and quickly released his grasp as he gained his balance. He gave a reassuring look to him, occasionally gazing at the room where Steve worked in. He knew how terrified Janick would be, but he'd have to consider possible consequences and the possible benefits if Bruce retrieved Eddie to bring him back to the band.
"Jan, I know. But think! Even if I go to check up on him, I could try to get him back here, too! 'Arry must want him to return and may be worried. I'm very much capable of doing the job, since I know where his resting grounds are and I know my way around. Better yet, I can have a phone on me at all times, in case anyone needs me for anything. How does that sound?"
Janick forced himself to convince Bruce just a little more. This would not be a great idea. "Yes, but what if you get hurt again? What if Ed happens to turn against you?"
Completely valid points, Bruce thought. Him ending up injured couldn't be impossible, considering the sight of the entity. As a result, Bruce pulled Janick into the darker part of the studio, quietly discussing how Eddie treated him while they were talking from the aftermath of the city's demise. That, fortunately, refreshed Janick's memory relatively quick and he realized that Ed would turn against him if Bruce were to do something the entity didn't agree with, or if something catastrophic ensued.
Nobody else would be able to do it as good as the vocalist. They would have no idea where they'd find themselves in, and they wouldn't know how to react to the sight of the ruins.
Finally, Bruce was successful in convincing Janick he could manage it.
Apprehensively, Janick pointed at the room several meters to the right of them. "Right…go ask, if you really wish to do so."
Bruce gave a sad, and clearly guilty expression towards Janick before heading towards Steve's small room. He took wide strides as it stood ahead of him, with the tinted windows vaguely exposing the bassist organizing his notes slowly and confidently. Bruce took a peek in and knocked on the door carefully, to avoid startling him. He watched the door open immediately, with Steve bringing him into the room.
Just like Janick mentioned. Organized notes all over the desk. Bruce couldn't help but be impressed as Steve returned to his seat.
"So you finally came 'round again. We've been worried. How are you doing?"
"…that's a lot of writing," Bruce remarked. "Janick told me about it…but! I'm hanging in there. Obviously, I could be better, but I'm expected to make a full recovery."
"Good," Steve hummed, spinning the chair around to face Bruce and offering to inspect the vocalist's hand. The latter wouldn't be against the gesture, so he put it out for Steve to observe if the bandages needed to be replaced. "I still cannot believe you had the audacity to do that to yourself. Your hand, especially. It could've gotten infected! Though, I'm relieved you're okay. I looked through the pictures and videos you acquired, such glorious footage. I also found a charger that's compatible for it, so you can use it as needed."
"That was generous of you," Bruce gasped, smirking at the bassist—who concluded they didn't need to be changed yet. "I'm glad you like the pictures. I just wasn't expecting you to be so invested. Is that what you've been doing when you're not writing?"
Steve turned away, staring down at the notes along his desk. "Well, when I'm trying to pass the time…"
Bruce surged with relief. He wasn't the only one doing it, after all. He'd also come to conclude his uncertainty to ask Steve about Eddie had faded, so he'd ask soon enough. He also admitted he'd scroll through the camera's library when he was leaving the ruins. "I understand that. You'll also have to tell me more of the Benjamin Breeg bloke you created. For now, I…well—Janick was protesting that I wouldn't come to you, but—"
"Oh no…Bruce, I know what you're planning," Steve chuckled, planting his forehead into the palm of his hand, slowly turning up shortly after. "You're about to do something overly ambitious, like always?"
The band knew Bruce so well, so Steve was expecting anything to come from Bruce's mouth.
"Okay. Hear me out on this. What if—I go try and get Eddie back?"
Dead silence shot through both of them as Steve furrowed his dark brows. He'd only blink at him, his eyes swinging up and down from his bandaged hand to his face.
"…That's a no, isn't it—"
"I wasn't implying I was against that, Bruce," Steve started, rising from his chair and inched towards the vocalist. "I need you to think very hard on what you're saying to me for a minute…you are practically fresh out of the hospital, you've been recovering from your injuries, you've only been home for an entire week and now you want to go to the place that caused you all of that shit 2 weeks later? You're out of your mind!" Steve argued, but within a strain of his voice would be resistance, as if he himself attempted to hold something in. "Your hand, too! You shouldn't be using it all the time!"
If Steve replied with a definitive no, he'd accept it. Nobody would want Bruce to almost die again, and the entity could easily come back whenever he wanted—that's if he really desired to. Bruce sighed, rubbing his neck through gritted teeth. "I understand. It'd probably be better if I stayed…Janick doesn't want me to leave and get injured as bad as I did, anyway."
Bruce swiftly turned his attention to Steve's eyes. The bassist's dark eyes revealed uncertainty and worry. Not for Bruce, but for something else. The vocalist waited for Steve to reply, in case he had anything more to tell him. As a result, he watched Steve turn around and curled his fingers around the edge of the desk, grasping as he deeply thought about this decision from Bruce. Both good and bad could come from it. They both stood in silence until Steve stood upright.
"'Arry…do you want me to go get Eddie for you? I can tell something is up."
Steve heaved a sigh, giving an unfinished nod that Bruce failed to interpret correctly. "Well, you survived a city being bombed and all of the horror you went through being there, all of that and you only turned up with one serious injury…I suppose, you should, but under a few conditions."
"Anything."
Steve tossed the camera to Bruce, with Bruce clasping it in his bandaged hand without fail. He knew he'd have to take pictures while he was there, since everyone enjoyed looking through them; he placed it in his pocket as Steve gave him specific instructions and the conditions the vocalist had to follow: "Take a phone with you so we can stay in contact. You have only 48 hours to bring him back here, and no exceptions. If you two are in any sort of trouble, let us know. Lastly, if I find out either of you fuck around for the majority of it, things will not look bright or pretty for you, nor me."
"You're really letting me do this?" Bruce gasped, reaching for the door as Steve lowered his gaze.
"Yes. Now go before I regret it!" Steve demanded, pointing for the door as he released a chuckle through a sigh. He managed to get a laugh out of Bruce, too. Finally, he bolted out of the room and left Steve alone once more.
Bruce paused in the middle of the studio to inform Janick, who was just as surprised as Bruce. The latter mentioned the rules Steve gave to him prior to leaving the studio. He also told Janick to inform the rest of the band about his absence, since they'll realize sooner than later. At least everyone would know where he went, and it was a place he's already been in. Janick obliged to Bruce's order, and they didn't seem very upset the vocalist would be leaving.
The sun kept rising when he chose to travel to the ruins that day. Besides, going early in the morning would be more beneficial than going sometime in the afternoon. He also wanted to start as soon as possible, since traveling would be difficult for taking a few hours. He'd ignore how long it took getting home, simply acknowledging he could run home to get ready. Quite a tedious journey, maybe it wouldn't be too bad this instance. He knew where he was heading and his motives for it. No big deal. Hopefully it wouldn't be stressful—and he wouldn't have a terrible experience—unlike last time. But no time to waste or worry about that. He had to prepare.
Bruce then debated if he should wear something new or resort to the clothes he grew accustomed to: that being the full white outfit he was given in the facility. Despite all of the grime and blood that had tainted it, he stripped the color right out of it. To his strain of shock, he became surprisingly fond of them, and as a result decided to wear them. He considered them to have some sentimental value to him. Really, no good reason to get rid of them yet.
Suddenly, as Bruce progressively got ready, he noticed a familiar voice vibrating through his mind. He knew that voice, but it wasn't pleasant. Rather than a joyous, raging cackle, it rumbled out as a terrorized bellow, hissing with spite. He almost thought he sensed the floor quivering beneath his own feet. He noticed himself growing bewildered. The entity never sounded like that weeks prior. Was he in danger? Was he having problems with something? Eddie's booming groan prompted Bruce to hurry, as whatever caused such a chilling noise wasn't good. He clarified if he had everything, ensuring the camera and phone he prepared and were both fully charged, he noticed his wife checking on him.
Bruce noticed her worried expression towards him, so he explained the situation with Eddie and how he needed to head to the ruins to see what was going on. Fortunately, she understood the best she could. She'd evidently seem upset he had to leave, considering he was only home for a week, but she wished him luck and not to get seriously hurt again. Though, they spent a few minutes catching up—since Bruce didn't want to neglect her state of mind—until she forced him out of the house so he could get going. He bolted through the door and ran to the train station near his house.
He discovered a train was heading to the exact same location from where Bruce stopped by, relieved that it wouldn't take an eternity to get there. And, as mentioned, it was somewhere he knew. Perfect. Just where I need to head to!
Inevitably the railroad near the ruins were demolished when reports came out that the city was destroyed. They feared another incident could happen, but also how people suspected a beast resided in the area. The other railroad remained open, so Bruce didn't need to change his directions to the ruins in the slightest. He estimated that walking through the field that separated the train station from the destroyed land would take half an hour, so he slid off the train cart and secured the camera and phone in his possession.
The deep growl-like groan sounded worse than he could've imagined. Bruce grunted and immediately started towards the world he once had to call his home.