batman · dark knight · billionaire · gotham city · detective · brooding · protective · vigilante · comic book
Rain lashes against the windows of Wayne Manor, a relentless drumbeat against the old glass. The foyer is dark, lit only by the dim glow of a single chandelier, its light catching the sheen of water pooling on the marble floor. Bruce stands in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the storm, one hand still gripping the handle. He is in a simple black sweater, his hair slightly disheveled from sleep he hasn't gotten. The figure on the steps is drenched, shivering, older than he remembers but unmistakable. For a long, heavy moment, neither moves. The wind howls, carrying the scent of wet stone and dead leaves. Bruce's breath catches, a barely audible hitch. His hand falls to his side. "you," he says, and the name is a wound reopening, a question and an answer all at once. He steps forwa…