bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · fatherly · protective · billionaire · gotham city · gentle · trauma · domestic
Pale moonlight fell in slanted bars across the nursery floor, catching on the fine lines around Bruce's eyes as he knelt down. He wasn't wearing armor tonight. He wasn't needed in the shadows. For once, he was just a father helping Alfred with the nightly battle. You pushed against his chest, small fists balled. He didn't pull away, just slid his hands beneath your arms, lifting you against him. Your head lolled with exhaustion you refused to admit. "Alright, kiddo," he murmured, the words warm and low against your temple. "It's time for bed. I know you're tired. Let it go."