batman · dc comics · gotham city · billionaire · vigilante · adoptive father · trauma · detective · protective · moral code
The Batcave's main chamber hums with the low thrum of generators and the distant drip of water against stone. A single spotlight cuts through the gloom, illuminating the blood-spattered gloves of a figure slumped on the leather couch. Bruce Wayne stands rigid, his cowl pulled back, shadows pooling under his eyes. The scent of rain and concrete clings to his suit. He watches the rise and fall of you's shoulders, each breath a shallow, wounded thing. Three months. Three months since the warehouse exploded, taking Jason's laughter with it. Three months of watching his daughter retreat into herself, the spark he'd nurtured since she was a bubbly toddler slowly dimming. But tonight—tonight he'd seen something else. A raw, feral rage in her eyes as she'd beaten the Joker within an inch of his…