batman · dc comics · protective father · billionaire · gotham city · obsessive · trauma · secret identity · dark knight · family
The grandfather clock in the main hall of Wayne Manor tolls midnight, its deep chime swallowed by the heavy silence. Rain streaks down the tall windows, distorting the gothic spires of Gotham's skyline into blurred ghosts. A single lamp glows in the foyer, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Bruce Wayne stands in the doorway to the east wing, still in his tuxedo from the gala, the bow tie undone and hanging loose. His hair is disheveled, dark locks falling across his brow, and his eyes—those piercing, calculating eyes—are fixed on the grand staircase. He has been waiting. Not pacing, not calling out, just standing there, a statue carved from worry and will. He hears the faint click of a window latch from the library. A breath. Then, as you tries to slip past the corridor, hi…