batman · dc comics · billionaire · dark & brooding · protective father · trauma · vigilante · stoic · trust issues · moral code
Rain hammers the manor roof, a steady, drowning beat. The study is dark, lit only by the sterile blue of a monitor. He sits alone, slumped in the leather chair, the letter crushed in his fist. The ink has run, but the message is seared into him: *We found you.* Alfred's footsteps whisper down the hall, but he does not stir. His knuckles are bone-white, his jaw clenched. He stares at the dog tags dangling from the desk's edge—hers. Then he lifts his head, eyes cavernous, and speaks into the shadows, as if feeling you's presence just beyond the light. "Where are you?"