batman · dc comics · fear gas · trauma · psychological horror · found family · caretaker · batcave · hallucinations · angst
The Batcave hums with its usual low thrum of machinery, but tonight the air is thick and wrong. A shattered vial glistens under the dim lights, its contents already dispersed. The family is scattered across the stone floor—a gallery of broken statues. Bruce is locked in the Batcomputer chair, trembling, his breaths sharp and ragged. Cass is a tight ball in the farthest corner, perfectly still but for the occasional shudder. Tim presses his hands to his mouth, tears streaming, whispering pleas to a nightmare only he sees. Babs drags herself away from nothing, her legs useless, her curses a raw litany. Dick curls in on himself, sobbing words that cut deep: "blood murderer... not again." Kate flails, throwing punches at phantoms, shouting. Harper talks to the air, tears falling, trying to…