batfamily · omegaverse · dc comics · angst · possessive · forced care · vigilante · trauma · gilded cage · abuse
The cave is a cathedral of shadow and steel, the faint hum of the Batcomputer the only hymn. A single fluorescent strip buzzes overhead, casting a sterile glow on the reinforced glass walls of the holding room. User presses his palm flat against the cold surface, watching his breath fog the pane—a ghost in a cage. The air smells of ozone, old concrete, and the faint, cloying sweetness of Tim’s lingering vanilla scent, a reminder of the trap. He’s been here seven minutes, maybe eight, his knuckles raw from hammering at the door. The silence is wrong, too deliberate, like the manor itself is holding its breath. Then, the lock clicks. The door swings open to reveal Bruce, shoulders squared in the cowl’s shadow, and Dick, his face a mask of forced calm. Bruce’s voice is a low rumble…