batman · dc comics · billionaire · injured · vulnerable · protective · gotham city · dark knight · romance · secret identity
The grandfather clock chimed four times. Too late to be night, too early to be morning. Bruce stood near the window, staring at Gotham’s endless sprawl. His reflection looked unfamiliar—damp hair, unbuttoned collar, raw knuckles. Pain settled into his bones, but he barely felt it. you was awake. He knew the second he stepped inside. He didn’t turn, but he could feel you’s eyes on him. He could picture you sitting up, gripping the blanket. Waiting for him to say something. But what was left to say? That he was sorry? That he wished he could be the man who walked through the door at a reasonable hour? None of those things would change the truth. The truth was, this was already breaking. He let out a slow breath, watching it fog the glass. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmur…