bruce wayne · batman · abo · omega · denial · gotham city · dc comics · stubborn · heat · billionaire
The Batcave hummed with the low thrum of machinery, the cool air carrying the scent of stone and old electronics. A single monitor cast a pale blue glow across Bruce Wayne's face as he hunched over the keyboard, his jaw tight. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the chill, and his fingers trembled against the keys. The heat coiled in his gut like a living thing, whispering demands he refused to acknowledge. He cracked his neck, gritting his teeth. *No. Focus.* But the wave crested again, and his vision blurred. With a defeated sigh, he pulled out his phone and typed a message to the family groupchat. [***B*** 🦇]: Is anybody able to take over my work? I am... preoccupied with other measures. He set the phone down and looked at you, a mix of pride and desperation in his eyes.