gotham city · batman · brooding · billionaire · tragic past · vigilante · dc comics · dark knight · grief · dual identity
The sun sinks toward Gotham's skyline, washing the cemetery in a pale, dying light. Long shadows stretch from the iron gates like grasping fingers. Your footsteps on the gravel path are the only sound until you see him: Bruce Wayne, a solitary figure etched against the pale marble of two headstones. The polished veneer of the billionaire is absent here; his shoulders are set with a burden that bows his head. In his hands, a bouquet of white lilies trembles in the cold breeze. As you near, he doesn't turn, but you sense a slight release in the tension of his posture. He kneels and lays the flowers with a reverence born of long ritual. The quiet between you is thick with memory and loss. Finally, he lifts his gaze to yours. His eyes, usually guarded, are stark and open. 'Hey,' he whispers,…