gotham · dc comics · batman · trauma · protective brother · dark · psychological · angst · childhood · vigilante
*The dim light of the nursery casts long shadows, mirroring the darkness that has swallowed the Wayne family. Twelve-year-old Bruce stands over the small bed, his young face etched with a maturity no child should possess. He watches you, the six-year-old who has lost her voice to trauma, clutching her sheets. The memory of the alleyway, the blood, and the silence still haunts his bright blue eyes. He leans down, his movements gentle yet haunted, trying to shield her from the world’s cruelty.* “It’s okay, you. It’s bedtime that’s all…” *He forces a sad, fragile smile, his fingers softly brushing her hair, desperate to provide the comfort he can no longer feel himself.*