i promise you, the dawn is coming. there is hope.

Bruce frowned, eyes narrowing behind his Batman-cowl. A mutant, clearly. One he didn’t recognize. Something about him was familiar, but not enough so that the hero could place him. “Can I ask why you’re...sleeping on the dirt?” He growled, toeing at the mutant with his steel-toed boot.

“It’s cold outside,” Bruce protested after a moment.

Bruce rolled his eyes, holding an overly expensive pate choux in hand, taking a bite of the soft, yet crunchy cream puff. “When have you ever believed in the United States Government?” He asked eventually, dabbing his face with the napkin before him, dinner table between himself and Tony. “They’ve tried to blow you up from start to finish -- doesn’t exactly exude trust.” Bruce tried, deadpanning at his long-time friend.

Shoulders stiffening in surprise, Bruce slowly turned to his counterpart. Helena was not...emotional. Like most of his family, the young woman had been through many hardships -- had faced adversity and overcome it, but paid the price nonetheless. The walls around her heart were solid and cold, just as they were around Bruce’s. Still, it was odd to hear Helena say something so blatant, even within the confines of the manor. 

Cowl off, Bruce eyed Huntress, saddened somewhat by how broken so many of the people he considered his ‘loved ones’ really were. “A hug? I don’t think we’ve shared many of those,” he said softly, somewhat uncomfortable showing that vulnerability. But he’d made a vow (just as sacred to the one he’d made to the city) to his children, to become a better man, a better father. A figure that they could all look up to in their time of need, and good role models didn’t squash what little desire for affection they actually showed him.

Swallowing thickly, Bruce opened his arms in invitation, toes feeling oddly cold but brow somewhat warm. Nervousness? (What if he couldn’t do it? Be there for them?) Doubt? It was odd, considering. He rarely felt insecure.

Bruce lifted a well-maintained brow, looking at a familiar-looking young man over the rim of his coffee cup. While the hero was sure that many people within the New York area probably agreed whole-heartedly, it was sort of intimidating to hear it so blatantly when Bruce, himself, was one of those people in question. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he murmured, dark eyes watching with a surprising amount of intensity. Worthington, Stark -- they were all fellow “overly-rich socialites” that were relatively well-known throughout Gotham, New York, Hell’s Kitchen, etc. “You should see my taxes,” Bruce joked, patting the chair beside him.

While he wasn’t one to flaunt his money by any means, he certainly could help a pretty poor-looking college-aged man out. The baggy jeans and scraggly-looking t-shirt made Bruce want to grimace, his own suit feeling too tight anyway. It felt odd, crawling in his skin-suit, Batman hidden deep within the fleshy casing. “I’ll buy you your coffee,” Bruce nodded to the barista over the counter, and since he was a regular here himself, they recognized him fairly quickly. Now, if only he could place the familiar face...

“Were you in an educational program within the area?” He blurted before he could stop himself. “If you don’t mind me prying, that is.”

She didn’t frequent rooftops, exactly–she was more of a ground-level kind of hero, but she could climb. It was nice out, and Tippy had wanted some air, so Doreen had taken a walk, which had, of course, turned into a patrol, which had turned into more of a light chase across the Bay into Gotham, which had turned into her catching the car thief and turning him into the authorities. Not as Squirrel Girl, of course. She’d left the man safely tied up with a post-it note from a friendly concerned citizen; she wasn’t crazy, not with the Enforcers out in full force.

Still, she’d had to get away from the scene, and the streets of Gotham were kind of spooky, so she’d sidled up the nearest fire escape, Tippy chattering something about how New Jersey squirrels, really? The air was calmer up here, peppered with sirens, but a breeze from the bay cut through the din. Maybe Gotham wasn’t so bad, she thought. They could hang out here for a few minutes, catch their breath before heading home. And then she noticed, up ahead, there was already a man on this rooftop, tall and shadowy and caped, brooding. Was it–no. Doreen would cry, probably, if she’d just accidentally interrupted Batman’s private brooding session. 

She walked closer, warning Tippy-Toe to please, please be quiet, sizing up her plan of attack. Just say hi? Introduce herself? Say she was a huge fan? Hope he didn’t drop-kick her off the building? And then he threatened her, and she stopped, a few steps from–yep, that was definitely Batman. “Uh, hi,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Something about the small woman that approached him seemed to...almost calm him. While her aura was intense, she didn’t seem to be too big of a concern, despite her presence being a little inconvenient for him. There were very few people in Gotham that Bruce didn’t know about -- whether it was from detailing files on most citizens versus those he’d seen through crime. And while lately Bruce was unable to spend as much time out on the streets as he would like ( no doubt, criminals would love to turn Batman into an enforcer ), he liked to see new faces.

“You seemed to make your decision relatively quickly for wanting to avoid the ‘interrupting’ thing,” Bruce teased, although to most he probably sounded overly serious. Alfred told him often that he needed to work on his delivery - the hero figured that most people probably expected that sort of approach from Batman. It was one thing while he was Bruce Wayne, and a another when he put on his alter ego. “Though you don’t seem afraid. Most people would turn tail,” he murmured after a moment, giving her his attention completely, eyes dark and intense. “You are?”

          “Still not into taking your own medicine I see.” The joke was followed by an echoing chuckle, light, sunny, something pushing against the cold night. One masked brow quirked up, though he was sure the Batman wasn’t going to abandon his stoic brooding session to even glance at him. Bruce was one of the few people he knew right away. People always thought he was impossible to read, but they didn’t know the fine tuning he’d put into making sure he was staying unreadable. Those little ticks, tricks, that kept him a blank slate were all too telling for a humble circus boy.

          “Figured you’d be happy to see me, B,” Dick continued, ignoring the other’s previous warning and wandering up to stand at his heels, staring out at the breezy skyline. “It’s a little harder to get across the bay back home with a suit on under your officer’s uniform.” 

Breathing out through his nose, Bruce let himself begin to relax, letting his oldest son invade the hero’s personal space ( like he always did ), opening himself up to Dick’s attention. “I’m overjoyed,” he murmured lamely, quirking a brow under the cowl. “Can’t you tell?” 

With a much warmer welcome, Bruce reached out, laying a large palm on Richard’s shoulder. He wondered, briefly, if his kids had even noticed the extreme effort he’d put into being more openly affectionate with them. Probably not, he figured, pulling his hand away, shoving it back under his cape, watching over the cityscape below him too. “You’ve been being careful?” He said after some time. “When patrolling, that is.”

(✉️ ➡️ Bruce Wayne): Bruce Wayne.  (✉️ ➡️ Bruce Wayne): Why do you ask?  (✉️ ➡️ Bruce Wayne): It’s not all that different. There are eyes everywhere.  (✉️ ➡️ Bruce Wayne): I never did like following rules. But now - I’m watched. Made sure that I do. 

@iamtheniqht

(✉ → totally not batman): so i was in an interview and my relationship, as you know, is on the DL, but of course they asked anyway (✉ → totally not batman): so i might have said ‘me and bruce wayne are having so much sex right now that he’s pregnant with my child’ (✉ → totally not batman): and apparently they took it seriously (✉ → totally not batman): i’m sorry buddy, but they think your abs are my baby (✉ → totally not batman): we’re having sextuplets!

“Ah is the bat moody, Harley here can make you have fun” she said not caring that she was getting close to him.  She had to tease him a little bit, that’s just the way she was