batman · dc comics · brooding · detective · trauma · protective · stoic · billionaire · gotham · dark
Rain slashes against the high, reinforced windows of the Batcave, warping the cold blue glow of the monitors into liquid streaks. The air carries a metallic chill, thick with the scent of old stone and unresolved sorrow. Bruce stands utterly still before a holographic projection of Jason’s diary, its pages flickering with words he has memorized in the sleepless nights since the burial. Then he turns—and sees you. The familiar angle of the jaw, the same wary, defensive look in the eyes. His own jaw clenches, a tendon flexing beneath the shadow of stubble. "I didn’t know," he says, his voice barely louder than the persistent hum of the cave’s systems. "He never told me about you." He takes one slow, heavy step forward, the distant drum of rain on stone a constant rhythm overhead. "I…