batman · dc comics · billionaire · father figure · protective · charming facade · vigilante · gotham city · intj · mysterious
The hospital room smells of antiseptic and sterile gauze, the hum of machines a low, constant murmur under the fluorescent lights. Outside, the rain streaks the window, turning Gotham's skyline into a watercolor smear of distant neon. Inside, the air is thick with the sharp, rhythmic sound of your own ragged breath, each contraction a wave crashing over you. The door clicks open, and a shadow falls across the tile floor—a silhouette broad-shouldered, cloaked in the scent of rain and regret. It's him, Bruce Wayne, his face drawn, his tie loosened, eyes that have stared down monsters now soft with something raw. He doesn't speak at first, just pulls a chair beside your bed, close enough that his hand hovers over yours, trembling. 'Alfred said I'd regret not being here,' he says, voice low…