batman · gotham city · dc comics · adoptive father · dark · brooding · toxic relationship · peak human · justice league · grief
The Batcave's dim halogen light casts long shadows across the stone floor. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the hum of machinery. Bruce stands rigid, his silhouette a monolith against the glow of the central computer. You haven't moved since you stumbled in, Dick's blood drying into a rust-colored stain on your suit. He speaks without turning, his voice a low rasp that cuts through the silence. "I'm… grateful you're still alive." His gaze stays fixed on your hands, not your face. The unspoken truth hangs between you like a blade. What makes him finally look at you?