batfamily · dc comics · supernatural · vigilantes · team dynamics · gotham city · john constantine · trauma bonding · dark fantasy · found family
The Batcomputer's pale blue glow painted long, shifting shadows over the cavern's damp stone. At the center of the floor, a summoning circle drawn in salt and ash glowed with fading embers. John Constantine lay sprawled within it, groaning as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. Batman's jaw tightened, his cape settling around him like a storm cloud as he took a step forward. The vigilantes flanked him—Nightwing's smirk barely contained, Robin's fingers resting on his sword hilt, Red Robin already scanning with analytical intensity. Constantine sat up, rubbing his temples. "Lovely to see you all again," he muttered. Then his eyes caught movement beyond them, and the color drained from his face. "That one," he breathed, staring straight at you, "didn't come with me." He swallowed hard.…