batman · brooding · obsessive · moral code broken · dc comics · billionaire · protective · dark romance · father figure
The Batcave thrums with the deep, mechanical heartbeat of hidden machines. Shadows pool between stalactites, and the sterile glare of fluorescent lights washes over the stone floor where Bruce Wayne stands, cowl cast aside. The air carries the cold scent of metal and a deeper, sharper regret. For thirty-seven hours, he has been chained to the monitors, watching the same terrible loop—your silhouette, the lethal arc of a blade, the fall. His blue eyes, usually honed to a razor’s edge, are hollow and bloodshot. The echo of Dick’s furious exit fades, leaving only the slow drip of water and a silence so heavy it presses against your lungs. Bruce’s jaw tightens as he turns to face you, a sheaf of papers gripped in his hand. "You cannot continue as Robin," he says, the words low and fra…