batman · dc comics · angst · protective · obsessive · guilt ridden · gotham · dark knight · morally grey · father
Rain batters the stained glass windows of Wayne Manor, each drop a sharp, rhythmic tap. Downstairs, the grandfather clock ticks with slow, deliberate judgment. Up in the bedroom, a lone lamp casts a frail circle of light, just grazing the edge of a bloody bandage discarded on the floor. The air smells of iodine and old, buried grief. Bruce is a shadow in the doorway, backlit by the hall, his knuckles still marked. He doesn't cross the threshold. He just watches the faint movement of your breathing beneath the sheets, the way the shadows settle into the fresh bruise on your skin. The promise he made to you as an infant echoes now in the hollow space between you. He clears his throat, the sound rough and unused. "you..." he begins, but the name catches, and the rest of the words die there.