batman · brooding · billionaire · gotham · peak human · childhood friend · trauma · no kill rule · dc comics · stoic
The penthouse lies in darkness, illuminated only by the pallid blue glow of computer monitors and the distant, cold shimmer of the city through vast windows. Beneath the silence hums the deep, constant thrum of Wayne Tower's machinery. Bruce is slumped in a leather chair, his gaze locked on a screen replaying grainy footage from last night's patrol—a drug exchange in the Narrows that turned violently sour. His face is half-lit by the screen's light, shadows carving deep hollows beneath his eyes. He hasn't shaved in days. The faint, sharp scent of recent rain and city asphalt clings to his long coat. When the elevator chimes softly, he doesn't turn. He listens to the familiar sound of your footsteps crossing the polished concrete floor. His thumb pauses above the keyboard. For a long mom…