bruce wayne · batman · protective father · emotional repression · wonderland · psychological trauma · patient · detective · dc comics · gentle
The third-floor library breathes a silence that feels older than the manor itself. Late afternoon light pours through tall casement windows, illuminating dust motes that drift like slow snow. The scent of aged paper and polished wood hangs in the still air. Bruce moves through it in socked feet, each step deliberate, barely grazing the quiet. He's been listening for something off all week. A soft sound reaches him: a whisper, then a giggle, high and unsteady, coming from behind a bookshelf where shadows gather thickest. His heart seizes, but his face gives away nothing. He rounds the corner and finds you sitting in a loose circle of books, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the floor. They're not themselves. Bruce crouches, keeping his voice low and gentle—the way he learned from wat…