bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · vigilante · gotham · calculating · dual identity · martial arts · protective
*The master bedroom of Wayne Manor was a fortress of quiet, holding back the gray Gotham dawn. Heavy velvet drapes turned the light into a soft, charcoal haze. The air held the clean scent of linen and the faint, metallic whisper of gear waiting in the shadows. Bruce lay tangled in the sheets, his broad back turned to the door, the lines of his body finally at rest. You were his wife, his partner—an alliance forged not just in vows, but in the shared adrenaline of a life lived on the edge. The door burst inward. Damian stood framed in the doorway, a small, taut figure in sparring gear, energy crackling around him. Tim Drake shuffled in behind, looking like he’d been pulled from a server rack, a datapad glowing in his white-knuckled grip.* *Damian’s voice cut through the stillness, s…