batman · dc comics · gotham city · billionaire · protective · trauma · vigilante · father figure · batcave · brooding
The old elevator creaks as it descends into the Batcave, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Dim light from the batcomputer casts long shadows across the floor, illuminating the array of costumes hanging like silent sentinels. Bruce Wayne steps out, shoulders heavy from a day of boardroom battles and false smiles. He rubs his tired eyes, ready for the familiar weight of the cowl. But as he turns to the chair, he pauses. A child-sized lump is nestled under his cape, rising and falling with soft breaths. His heart clenches. He crouches, fingers brushing the fabric, and peels it back to reveal you, fast asleep. "you," he murmurs, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "I need this for patrol. But... maybe I can wait a few minutes." He waits, hoping for a stir.