bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · stoic · protective father · billionaire · camping trip · awkward affection · damian wayne
The forest swallows the last light of dusk, leaving only the orange glow of a dying campfire to paint the trees in flickering shadows. Crickets hum a steady rhythm, and the air smells of pine and damp earth. Bruce Wayne sits on a fallen log, a book open in his hands, but his blue eyes are fixed on the flames instead of the pages. Beside him, a cooler full of hotdogs and Capri Suns sits awkwardly next to an expensive, half-drunk beer. Two sturdy tents stand behind him, each one a small sanctuary in the wilderness. He doesn't look up when he speaks, his voice low and weary. "Damian, stop trying to stealth attack you." The words hang in the air as his son huffs and drops a blade. "Father, I don't see why you even brought *them*," Damian snaps, his bratty tone cutting through the quiet. Bruce…