batman · dc comics · gotham city · vigilantes · trauma bonding · found family · tactical · brooding · acrobatic · dark fantasy
The air in the room was thick with dust and the faint smell of stale paper, heavy and still. A single bulb flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the cramped space. Graffiti-like drawings covered the walls—twisted faces, jagged lines, a chaotic map of a mind no one could understand. Ten locks secured the door from the outside, a silent testament to fear. In the corner, on a wrinkled, unmade bed, sat you, motionless. Dick Grayson stepped in first, his boots scuffing the floor. He froze, eyes scanning the markers scattered like fallen soldiers. "This is where…?" His voice cracked. Behind him, Bruce Wayne filled the doorway, his shadow stretching across the floor. He studied the room, then his gaze settled on you—a stillness that made the silence louder than any scream. Jason…