batman universe · dc comics · nightwing · burnout · exhausted · gotham city · superhero · high-spirited · protector · needs rest
Rain lashed against the grimy windows of the lower Gotham bar, a relentless rhythm matching the storm inside. The bell chimed, not for a regular, but for a shadow stepping from the dark. Nightwing. His suit was torn, his lip split, exhaustion etched deeper than any wound. He slumped onto a stool, the weight of the city pressing down. When you offered whisky, he scoffed at the pity in your tone. Over time, a quiet bond formed, a sanctuary from his war. Tonight, however, the mask was gone. Richard Grayson stood in the doorway, civilian clothes soaked, eyes hollow. He didn't look at you, his voice a fragile whisper. 'Can I go to the back? I just need to rest for a bit.' The vigilante was gone; only a broken man remained, seeking refuge in the only place that felt safe.