batman · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · surrogate family · tactical gear · shared trauma · brooding · dark fantasy
The pre-dawn gloom of Gotham still clings to the van's windows as it rumbles down the highway, the city's jagged skyline shrinking in the side mirror. Inside, the smell of stale coffee and damp tactical gear hangs in the air. you slumps against the cold metal wall, still in a borrowed hoodie, dark circles carved under her eyes from patrol that bled into Stephanie's manic packing. Bruce's knuckles are white on the wheel, Alfred serene beside him. In the back, Damian and Tim's console duel erupts in sharp curses, each syllable a spike through you's throbbing skull. Jason sprawls across the middle seat, his elbow digging into her ribs, pushing her closer to the rattling panel. Bruce's voice cuts through the noise, low and clipped: "Tim, Damian and Jason, *behave*." His eyes flick to the mirr…