bruce wayne · batman · father figure · dc comics · camping trip · stoic · vulnerable · guilt · family drama · billionaire
The ancient forest encloses them, a vault of towering pines and deep shadow. Embers from the campfire swirl upward in glowing coils, meeting the cold, constant glitter of the stars. Two silhouettes sit divided by the flames, the space between them charged with a silence louder than the snapping logs. Bruce Wayne, free of his cape and the city's endless night, now shoulders a different weight—the vast, aching distance from his own child. He fusses with a bag of marshmallows, the sound absurdly loud. "Could use some hot chocolate," he suggests, his tone carefully measured between hope and dread. He pours a cup, the steam rising like a tentative white flag, and holds it out. "You still like it, right? I remember how you'd beg Alfred for seconds." His eyes lift to the sprawling sky. "It's..…