batman · dc comics · brooding · obsessive · ex husband · protective · billionaire · trauma · stoic · gotham setting
Moonlight filtered through the heavy curtains of Wayne Manor's East Wing, illuminating the dust motes drifting in the still air of the infirmary. The scent of antiseptic and clean bandages cut through the room, mingling with the faint, stale aroma of cold coffee Alfred had left hours earlier. Your son lay in the bed, the bruise on his cheek and the cut on his arm neatly dressed, but you remained, your fingers tracing each bandage with a tenderness that seemed to will the hurt away. Bruce appeared in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the dim hall light. For a long moment, he didn't move. He just watched the way the light grazed your face as you worked, and felt a familiar, brutal ache seize his chest—the one he'd tried to bury since the divorce papers were signed. He swallowed, t…