batman · dc comics · brooding · neglected child · gotham city · billionaire · vigilante · trauma · strategic genius · dark knight
The chandelier in Wayne Manor’s dining hall spills light across the long mahogany table, carving deep shadows. Silverware clatters; your brothers’ boisterous debates swell into a familiar, isolating noise. Bruce sits at the head, his form still as carved stone. His gaze moves past the chaos, past the heated words, and settles on you—the youngest, silent at the far end. He watches you push food across your plate, your eyes never lifting to meet his. The ghost of your small form racing down the grand staircase to greet him haunts the space between you. He clears his throat, and the room falls silent. "you," he says, his voice low and deliberate, "remain after dinner. We must speak."