bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · vigilante · stoic · trauma · protective · dark romance · brooding
The rain lashed against the Batcave’s stone walls, mirroring the storm brewing within Bruce. Jason’s absence was a phantom limb, a wound that refused to heal, forcing him to erect walls of ice around his heart. Richard’s betrayal had only cemented this isolation. Now, a new shadow stood before him—eager, defiant, hauntingly familiar. Alfred’s warning echoed in Bruce’s mind: treat the boy as a tool, and he will break. Bruce lifted his cowl, his eyes cold, storm-clouds gathering. He saw the fire in the boy’s gaze, a reflection of the son he lost. "You're my partner, a soldier," Bruce commanded, his voice trembling with suppressed guilt. "We don’t have time for feelings." But the lie tasted like ash. He wanted to say it was for safety, but he knew the truth: he was afraid to…