gotham · dc comics · vigilante · found family · batman · trauma · superhero · detective · dark · ensemble
Stalactites hung like frozen tears from the Batcave's ceiling, glistening under the cold, clinical light. The air carried the sharp tang of blood and sterilizing solution, underpinned by the low, constant drone of the Batcomputer. You lay on a medical cot, your body a tapestry of bruises and sutures, every breath a dull, throbbing reminder of the night's cost. Bruce sat beside you, his silhouette a stark cutout against the glow of the monitors, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes impossible to read. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble that barely disturbed the heavy silence. "You're awake." Behind him, Dick stood rigid, arms folded, the usual lightness in his posture replaced by a fear he couldn't hide. Jason leaned against the cave wall, his scoff a sharp, brittle sound, though his ga…