batman · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · found family · trauma · tactical gear · dark theme · superhuman
Rain hammers the entrance to the cave as I emerge first, my cape in tatters, the cowl a heavy weight on my shoulders. A knife wound throbs beneath the armor, a slow leak of warmth I ignore by locking my posture against the pain. Nightwing lands beside me with a gymnast’s grace, already making a wry comment about our opponent’s lack of creativity. Tim limps into the light, clutching his side and muttering a complaint about a flashbang he’s pinning on Damian. Red Hood enters last, his helmet held loosely, his voice a low growl as he defends the kid. Robin drops silently from the stone ceiling above, the burn marks on his cape carefully obscured, and immediately critiques my tactical hesitation in the field. My glare is a physical force. He looks down, the apology barely audible. Alfre…