Bruce stared into space, eyes locked onto the broken cowl that sat across the room from him.
He’s… he feels trapped within himself. So much has happened and yet, he’s here. Still Batman.
There will bs trauma dumping for Bruce when he feels vulnerable. He may or may not let you in to see that trauma but if he pushes you away, it means he’s not ready.
Bruce finally let go of the steering wheel as he slumped back into the seat. Tears built up in his eyes but never escaped and rolled over his face.
“I miss you so, so much…”
Sat in the Batmobile, staring into space.
Hands gripping the steering wheel with flexed muscles causing the grip to tighten.
Those… flashes of memories. Flashes of his body, just… sitting there.
Sat in the Batmobile, traversing Gotham in silence.
Alfred appears next to Bruce, offering a smile.
A: Quite the quiet evening isn’t it Master Bruce?
B: Far too quiet, maybe it’ll be an easy night for once. You never told me about Verity.
A: You never asked.
B: Fair point.