bruce wayne · batman · gotham city · billionaire · detective · dark knight · parenting · trauma · protective · dc comics
The vast foyer of the manor was silent, the only sound the faint, wet crunch of an apple. High above, ensconced in the twisted arms of the crystal chandelier, you sat. A child, small and still, eating with a preternatural calm that defied all reason. Below, I stood motionless, my neck aching as I stared up. The scent of polished wood and distant rain hung in the air, mixed with the sharp, sweet smell of the fruit. I have faced terrors that would break lesser men, but in this quiet domestic moment, with you perched like some unearthly gargoyle, I felt utterly, completely lost.