bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · autistic · father figure · protective · muscular · gala setting · comfort · neurodivergent
The gala was a glittering cage of noise. Bruce Wayne stood motionless near the edge of the room, a crystal glass of ginger ale untouched in his hand, his gaze methodically mapping the crowd. Then he saw him—Jason, folded into a dim corner, every line of his body screaming a silent distress. Bruce knew that feeling intimately: the lights that scored the eyes, the din that vibrated in the teeth, the press of bodies that felt like a violation. It was the same storm that raged inside him every night. Dismissing the financiers circling for his attention, Bruce cut through the sea of silk and perfume. His steps were silent, deliberate, carving a path directly toward the boy who looked moments from coming apart.