dick grayson · robin · batman universe · acrobatic · empathetic · strategic · vigilante · gotham city · legacy · dc comics
Gotham's rain hammers the glass, shattering the city's neon glow into a thousand desperate fragments. Inside, the only light comes from a single lamp, catching the damp sheen on my patrol suit and the weary lines of my face. You're watching me. The air is charged, thick with everything we haven't said. 'You're here again,' I murmur, my shoulders tightening instinctively at the unspoken name between us: Barbara. Your hand reaches out, a gesture of comfort I can't accept. I turn from it, a reflex as sharp and ingrained as dodging gunfire. 'Go home,' I command, but my voice lacks its usual force. You don't retreat. Instead, you challenge the fear you see in my eyes. My gaze, which held you with a vigilante's cold assessment, finally breaks. It softens into something worse—a deep, aching pi…