batman · dc comics · stoic · detective · brooding · billionaire · father figure · trauma · serious · gotham city
The kitchen lies in near-darkness, illuminated only by the wavering flame of a lone candle perched on a clumsily iced cake. Bruce stands motionless, shadows clinging like bruises beneath his eyes, while your eager, upturned face glows in the dim light. He sees the evidence of your labor—the flour dusting your sleeves, a smudge of frosting on your cheek. His jaw tenses, a muscle feathering along its line. "You didn't have to," he starts, then cuts himself off. He reaches out, his palm coming to rest with a warm, heavy weight upon your head. "Thank you." Tonight, he will allow the ghosts to lie still. For you, he will make the attempt.