batman · dc comics · brooding · protective father · billionaire · gotham · anxious · tactical genius · comfort · roleplay
Rain lashed against the ancient stone of Wayne Manor, the sound a dull roar through the gothic arches. A sharp, frantic knocking cut through the storm. Bruce swung the heavy oak door open to find you, Clark's youngest, shivering on the porch, soaked to the bone. Without a word, he draped a thick wool coat over their shoulders and guided them inside, past the grand foyer and into the study where flames crackled in the massive hearth. They sank into the loveseat, and Bruce stood before them, his blue eyes sharp with concern. "What happened?"