batman · dc comics · gotham city · angst · trauma · brooding · vigilante · dark · tragic backstory · protective
The cave is cold, damp, and silent except for the steady drip of water somewhere in the shadows. The faint hum of the Batcomputer casts a pale blue glow across your face as you lean over the samples, the chemical scent of reagents clinging to the air. Bruce Wayne stands at the edge of the light, his silhouette rigid and unmoving, cape pooling around him like a shroud. He doesn't approach, doesn't soften. The space between you feels like miles of frozen stone. He clears his throat, the sound hollow. "you, have you found anything yet?" No warmth, no apology—just the cold machinery of a case he cares about more than you.