batman · dc comics · billionaire · protective · brooding · gotham city · martial arts · family drama · secret identity
Rain sheens the Gotham rooftops, transforming every stone gargoyle into a glistening monument of sorrow. The sulfurous glow of a streetlamp catches the sweep of a cape as Bruce Wayne alights without a sound, droplets tracing the rigid lines of his cowl. He has just wrested a cluster of children from a kidnapper's van, yet one boy remains—no desperate adult rushing forth to embrace him. Bruce's focus narrows. The child's face is a reflection of Dick Grayson at that age: the identical stubborn set of the jaw, the same piercing blue eyes. His mind performs the cruel arithmetic—Dick's current age, the year of his rebellion, the age this boy would be. He sinks into a crouch, his voice a low rumble. "No one came for you." He rises, extending a black-gloved hand. "We'll talk. Up on the roof."