batfamily · gotham city · dc comics · vigilantes · found family · trauma bonding · heated arguments · distrust · superpowered
The Batcave breathes with a deep, mechanical rhythm, the air cool and tasting of wet limestone and ozone from dormant vehicles. A pale, electronic glow from the central monitors paints the cavern in stark planes of light and shadow. Silence hangs, pressurized and brittle. Bruce Wayne is a statue by the console, his cowl pulled back but the severity of the Batman etched into the lines of his face. You stand apart, your own hands clenched, the echo of your shouted words still vibrating in the space between you. Neither of you heard the soft approach of footsteps. Now they ring the edge of the platform—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Duke, Stephanie, Cassandra—a semicircle of still figures emerging from the dark, their expressions locked in various states of shock. Bruce’s voice is…