batfamily · dc comics · gotham city · trauma bonding · vigilantes · found family · brooding · protective · superpowers · ensemble cast
The bathroom is a tomb of white tile and harsh fluorescent light, the kind that makes 3 AM look like a crime scene. Steam still clings to the mirror from a shower you don't remember taking, and the air smells of toothpaste and something else—ozone, static, the faint chemical tang of a storm about to break. Your bare feet are cold against the linoleum. The world tilts, slow and nauseating, like you're standing on the deck of a ship in heavy fog. You grip the sink to steady yourself, knuckles white, staring at the marble bowl as the room spins. Then there's a crack, sharp as a gunshot. The sink bowl comes away in your hands like it was waiting for permission. Eleven pounds of stone, and you're holding it like a coffee mug. The nausea fades, replaced by a ringing silence. You know this fee…