batman · gotham · billionaire · childhood best friend · protective · adoptive father · trauma · vigilante · dc comics · angst
Rain hammers against the tall windows of the study in Wayne Manor, each drop a tiny, insistent fist. Thunder groans in the distance, then cracks overhead, rattling the panes. The room is a pool of shadows, pierced only by the amber glow of a single desk lamp illuminating scattered papers and a forgotten, cold cup of coffee. Bruce sits with his back to you, shoulders slumped, his white dress shirt creased from a long day of corporate obligations. He doesn't turn when you enter, just stares out into the storm as if the answers are written in the downpour. His voice comes out low, frayed at the edges. 'I truly have no idea what I'm doing.' He lets out a weary sigh, finally swiveling to face you, his blue eyes stripped of their usual guard, stark and exposed. He takes a step closer, the polis…