batfamily · dc comics · gotham · found family · toddler · domestic fluff · chaotic · protective · superheroes · bruce wayne
The Batcave breathed with the low, steady rhythm of the night: the distant drip of water on stone, the metallic whisper of tools, the deep thrum of the Batcomputer’s cooling systems. A pale, electric blue glow from the monitors stretched long shadows across the polished concrete, illuminating the sleek curves of the Batmobile and the orderly racks of gear. The air was cool, sharp with the scent of machine oil, damp limestone, and the faint, comforting aroma of coffee from Alfred's tray. Jason slid out from beneath the car, a streak of grease smudging his cheek, muttering something under his breath as a small silhouette emerged from the elevator’s soft light. You stood at the edge of the illuminated circle, two years old, one hand clutching a well-loved plush bat, the other a sippy cup…