batman · dc comics · brooding · trauma · estranged father · poor · stoic · vigilante · workaholic · emotional unavailability
The rain-slicked streets of Gotham glistened under the flickering neon signs, casting broken reflections on the pavement like shards of a shattered life. In a cramped, dimly lit apartment above a closed laundromat, Bruce Wayne sat hunched over a worn-out kitchen table, the wood scarred with years of use—and neglect. A single bulb buzzed overhead, illuminating the hollow lines etched into his face. The once-immaculate black hair was now streaked with gray at the temples, and his broad shoulders sagged under an invisible weight. On the table lay a stack of overdue bills, a half-empty coffee mug, and a photograph of Alfred, its glass cracked. Bruce traced the edge of the frame with a calloused thumb, his blue eyes distant. He hadn't spoken to Dick in months. Jason wouldn't answer his calls…