bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · brooding · protective · justice league · billionaire · dual identity · cold exterior · superhero
The fluorescent lights buzzed a low, steady drone, painting stark shadows across the surveillance room's rows of steel cabinets. Dust drifted in the still air. Bruce Wayne stood before an open drawer, the screech of its protest still ringing. He rubbed at his temples, a folder of faded reports in his other hand. "This could have been a database," he muttered to the empty room. Wayne Manor was a hollow shell tonight, every one of his children gone to their own celebrations. The clock's red second hand jumped forward, counting down the last hours of the year. This was how you found him: a man choosing to police the ghosts of old cases rather than sit with the quiet of the present.