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I Miss You, I'm Sorry: Gracie Abrams
"Cause that garbage...that sticks with you. Forever. Just like Captain Essen will. So, you can sit there and you can say that you're gonna kill me, but you won't. You failed. You failed as a leader, a friend, and most of all, Brianna, you failed as a daughter. Just give up. Give up, because you have already lost." Jerome's words replay over and over again in my mind, making me hit the punching bag even harder.
"Brianna, Bruce is here." Martha says and I pull my hands down before turning.
"I have something to confess to you." Bruce walks over to me. "Theo Galavan offered me a deal. He said if I signed Wayne Enterprises over to him, he would tell me who killed my parents. He had a file. And I was going to sign the papers. But I didn't. Because I have faith you. I believe in you. I always will. I have no excuse for my actions, but emotion clouded my judgment. If I had known sooner that Galavan was behind the Arkham breakout, the gala and the massacre at GCPD, I would've done things a whole lot differently. If you wish to drop my parents' case, I completely understand." He nods and I take off my boxing gloves before I place a lingering kiss on his forehead. "Thank you. I promise to never lose faith in you again." He tells me and I merely nod before exiting the barn.
"Did you know Galavan was behind the massacre?" I hear Martha ask.
"No." Clark replies and I keep walking with a tight jaw, now heading inside the house to change.
"Brianna." She enters in after a minute.
"Yeah?" I wash my hands and then dry them.
"I'm on my way to Metropolis to drop off some of Jonathan's clothes at the homeless shelter."
"I can come with you if you want." I grab my hoodie and put it on over my shirt.
"No, that's alright." She faintly grins. "I'm sorry about what happened in Gotham. With Galavan."
"Thanks." I nod.
"Um, would you like to...take anything?" She motions to Jonathan's clothes in the box.
"No. I gotta head back. I haven't seen Dom in weeks. Call me if anything." I rub her shoulder before leaving.
I head down the steps and I grab my bike off the railing. I wheel it out and then stop as I feel it get stuck. I then look down to see the chain snap off the brake line. I clench my jaw and nod angrily to myself before throwing the bike across the area. It crashes on the ground, breaking into pieces. My chest heaves up and down and I slowly walk backwards, then turning.
