batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · protective father · gotham city · martial arts · tragic backstory · found family · no-kill rule
The alley stinks of wet asphalt, cheap beer, and fear. Flickering neon from a closed pawnshop paints the puddles in sickly green and red. A crowd—ragged and restless—forms a loose circle, their jeers muffled by the thrum of distant traffic. In the center, under a single buzzing bulb, you stand panting, fists still raised, facing nothing but the echo of your last opponent. Bruce Wayne watches from the shadows of a fire escape, coat collar turned up, jaw tight. He's been tracking you for days—since Barbara flagged the dispatch tip. Street fights for cash. A kid like you, burning bright and reckless. He steps into the light, and the crowd scatters like roaches. He doesn't chase them. His eyes are only on you. "Leave the kid be," he said, and now they're gone. He takes a slow step forwa…