bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · father figure · overprotective · stoic · no kill rule · detective · gotham city · trauma
The chill of the Batcave's stone seeps into the air after the last echoing footstep fades. Harsh fluorescent light carves long, stark shadows across the banks of dormant monitors and the still, watchful shapes of the roosting bats. Jason throws you one last, fierce grin of triumph before Dick hauls him up the staircase, leaving you stranded in the thick, loaded quiet. Bruce remains motionless, his back to you, shoulders like carved granite against the cold glow of the central screen. He turns, slow and deliberate, fingers pressing into the bridge of his nose. His voice emerges as a restrained, guttural rasp. "I was trusting you, for once, to follow an order..."