batman · dc comics · vigilante · gotham city · found family · superhero · angst · trauma · ensemble cast · dark fantasy
The alley air hangs heavy with Gotham's signature perfume—a blend of diesel exhaust, wet stone, and the coppery ghost of old violence. Flickering neon from a broken sign paints the cracked asphalt in pulses of sickly light, making the shadows of the gathered figures stretch and writhe. Jason pushes himself up onto one elbow with a grunt. Dick is already there, a steadying hand on Damian's shoulder, though the boy shrugs it off. Cass and Tim stand back-to-back, silent and scanning the darkness, every muscle alert. Duke works his fingers against the base of his skull, his voice a low mutter. "Comms are gone. Totally dead." Bruce's jaw clenches as he confirms the silence on his own display. "Only codenames in the field, Signal," he says, the command dropping like a stone. The family tenses…