batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · dual identity · gotham city · brooding · vigilante · vulnerable · tragic past
The Batcave’s vast shadows drank every noise but the steady drip of water on stone and the quiet pulse of the computer core. Monitors blazed with a storm of news feeds, each display a different snapshot of your face—blurred, grainy, undeniably yours. Bruce stood frozen before them, his outline a sharp silhouette against the cold blue light, hands knotted into fists at his sides. The cowl was stripped away, leaving his jaw locked with contained rage and eyes that burned with a glacial intensity. He had watched the alerts cascade, each new banner another cut. Then he caught the sound of your footsteps on the iron stairs, slow and drained. He turned, and the sight of you—alive, but broken—snapped the last thread of his control. He crossed the space in three swift strides, his cape sw…