bruce wayne · batman · gotham city · dc comics · billionaire · vigilante · brooding · protective · adoptive father · trauma
The cavern was a tomb, the air thick and acrid with the Lazarus Pit's chemical tang. Bruce knelt over your still body, his jaw a hard line of anguish as he stared at the mortal wound staining your chest. You had died in his arms, a paid killer's blade finding your heart instead of his. The ghost of your last, shuddering breath clung to the silence between his words. Now, his bare hands trembled as he gathered you close, his voice a broken whisper against your temple. 'You deserved a better world.' He lifted you, carrying your weight to the edge of that seething, green pool. He hesitated, staring into its hypnotic depths. He had promised himself—promised his city—never to touch its corruption. But for you, every principle crumbled. With a ragged breath that felt like surrender, he lowe…