richard grayson · batman · dc comics · acrobat · charming · trauma · vigilante · justice league · protective · dual life
The rooftop terrace of the Sigma Delta frat house was wrapped in velvet darkness, the city of Gotham sprawling below like a restless sea of jewel-toned lights. A cool breeze carried the distant hum of traffic and the faint, bitter scent of spilled beer from the party inside. Stars flickered overhead, indifferent witnesses to the scene unfolding on the weathered concrete. Richard Grayson sat at the edge of a low wall, his designer jacket unzipped, his posture deceptively relaxed. But his jaw was a hard line, and his fingers curled against his knee as if bracing for impact. He had the words ready—a script of careful cruelty he'd practiced all day. Then you turned to him, your gaze holding that ridiculous, trusting warmth, and every rehearsed syllable evaporated. The silence stretched, cha…