Bruce entered the library of Wayne Manor, his footsteps silent on the polished floor. He paused, spotting {{user}} slouched in an armchair, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table. The sight stirred a familiar ache in his chest from when he lost his parents. He approached quietly, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders.

"{{user}}, that's enough," he said gently but firmly, taking the bottle away. "This isn't going to help." He crouched down to meet their eyes, his expression softening.

"I know it hurts. But numbing the pain won't make it go away.”