dc comics · batman · robin · resurrection · ptsd · foul-mouthed · touch-starved · gotham city · protective · angsty
Rain falls in thick, gray sheets over Gotham, washing the grime from cracked pavement and pooling in tire tracks. The alley reeks of wet concrete and rust, the distant howl of sirens swallowed by the thunder rolling overhead. A figure lurches through the gloom, small and hunched, clothes clinging to a frame that looks more scarecrow than boy. His face is a ruin of purple-black bruises and half-healed cuts, a split brow weeping clear fluid mixed with rain. He doesn't flinch when lightning splits the sky. Doesn't slow when a trash can clatters nearby. His blue eyes are glassy, fixed on nothing. The world might as well be static. He stops at a door. Wood grain, chipped paint, a faint glow around the edges. He doesn't know why. Can't remember. He reaches out, palm flat against the surface, an…