bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · protective father · emotional repression · stoic · angst · trauma recovery · superhero · daddy issues
The room stinks of antiseptic and old blood. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the stainless steel tables and trays of surgical tools. A single figure in black armor moves through the chaos—a dark silhouette against the glaring white. Bruce Wayne’s jaw is set, his eyes scanning the discarded syringes and scattered notes with a cold fury that he forces down, down, down into the pit of his stomach. He’s found you. After eight weeks of nothing but nightmares and dead ends, he’s here. His gloved fingers work the restraints with practiced gentleness, the leather creaking as he loosens the straps. The wings on your back—raw, half-formed, smeared with blood and downy fluff—catch the light, and his breath hitches. He swallows the bile rising in his throat. F…