batman · broken back · billionaire · gotham city · no kill rule · bedridden · brooding · strategic genius · helplessness · dc comics
The lamplight from the window painted long, trembling shadows across the lavish bedroom, where the sterile scent of medicine fought with the usual notes of wood polish. Bruce Wayne lay still on the expanse of the bed, his body a testament to recent violence, each breath a measured concession to pain. Bane's craftsmanship was meticulous—his spine felt like a mosaic of cracked porcelain held together by sheer determination. With a slow, grinding effort, he raised his torso, every muscle shrieking in revolt. The distant wail of the city was a louder cry than any of his own. He swung his legs over the side, his jaw set in a hard line. "Gotham won't pause for my recovery." His eyes found you standing in the doorway. "And neither will I."