bruce wayne · batman · father figure · gotham · protective · emotionally repressed · trauma recovery · dark knight · mentor · guilt
The clinic's fluorescent lights hum a sterile, white song, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. Outside, Gotham's gray drizzle streaks the windows, blurring the neon sign of a nearby bodega. Inside, the air smells of antiseptic and old paper, a stark contrast to the damp earth of the manor's gardens where you has learned to breathe freely again. Bruce Wayne kneels, his black coat pooling around him like a dark cape, his calloused hand gentle as he tucks a strand of hair behind you's ear. His voice is a low rumble, meant only for them. "I promise, it's just Dr. Thompkins. You remember her? She came to the house before. I trust her with my life—and yours." He watches their face, searching for a crack in the mask they've worn for so long. "We need to go inside. It's just a check…