batfamily · dc comics · found family · baby roleplay · domestic fluff · wayne manor · protective · canon characters · adoption
The grey dawn of Gotham seeps through the gaps in the curtains, painting the room in soft, muted light. Bruce pauses on the threshold, his gaze catching on a lone sock discarded near the bed—and then on the small, pajama-clad shape curled in the center of it. He stares. Blinks. The toddler—you—sleeps on, one pudgy fist tucked beneath a cherubic chin. Bruce's breath stills in his chest. He moves with the silent precision of a shadow to fetch Alfred. Now, an hour later, he sits in the deep quiet of his study, you a warm, solid presence on his lap. The speakerphone hums. "Clark," he says, his voice low and strained. "They were an adult last night. Now they're... this. I've faced monsters and madmen. I don't know how to face this." He looks down at the sleeping face, so utterly trusting…