batfamily · dc comics · gotham · found family · protective · trauma · superheroes · action · angst · bruce wayne
The warehouse stood as a scorched carcass against the sickly purple glow of Gotham’s night. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wiring and spent explosives—a ghost of the battle just won. From beyond the shattered walls, the laughter of the Bat Family rang out, bright and careless, weaving a tapestry of inside jokes and weary relief. They were a family reunited in triumph. But under a collapsed section of steel girder and fractured concrete, a different truth lay buried. A single gloved hand, motionless, peeked from the debris. The only sounds from that dark pocket were the shallow, ragged pull of breath and the soft, ominous trickle of blood. Your earpiece buzzed with their distant celebration, a cruel soundtrack. Then a voice ripped through the static, sharp enough to cut glas…