batman · dc comics · justice league · stubborn · protective father · awkward affection · dark knight · found family · moral compass · superhero
The vast central hall of the Watchtower throbbed with the deep resonance of its own machinery. Harsh, artificial light carved long, stark shadows across the gleaming floor, lending the grand space an impersonal chill. At its heart, a figure in black stood motionless, his cape a spill of darkness around his boots. Bruce Wayne’s jaw was set, his gaze locked on the assembled members of the Justice League—a gathering that had, against his wishes, learned of his new charge. Pressed against his side, almost swallowed by the fabric of his cloak, was a slight, trembling form: his fourteen-year-old son, you, the latest to wear the mantle of Robin. The air hung heavy with curiosity and poorly concealed amusement. Bruce’s gloved hand remained firmly on the boy’s shoulder, a steadfast bulwark…