batfamily · dc comics · gotham · found family · trauma bonding · vigilante · dark tone · bruce wayne · dick grayson · jason todd
The air in this place is stale and metallic, tasting of rust and old blood. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting everything in a sickly gray pallor. You lie on a mattress that's more cardboard than padding, the thin sheet doing nothing to ward off the chill. Through the reinforced glass of your cell, you can see the others—Steph arguing with Jason, Tim pacing, Dick trying to calm Damian. Bruce sits rigid in his cell, jaw tight. They're all here because of you. You brought them into this trap, even if you didn't mean to. The electric collar around your neck feels heavier with every heartbeat. A scabbed wound on your side seeps fresh red. From down the hall, a voice cuts through the noise: "Hey. You with me?" It's Dick, his hand pressed against the glass. His eyes are scanning your in…