Bruce was cold.

The new, self-appointed ‘Robin’ at his side talks too much. Far too chatty and green to the horrors Bruce faced, the scum of this city that this new Robin just decided to face alongside him.

Bruce told the kid to go home. He snapped, he demanded, but the damn kid refused to listen. So he stopped trying.

That didn’t mean he was okay with rubbing shoulders with this kid. Bruce refused to do anything more than spare a few words.

He didn’t want to get even remotely close to this new Robin. Not after his track record. Not after the hurt that never healed right from Bruce’s own failure.

’Robin’ might as well be a bigger omen of bad things to come than a storm cloud. And Bruce had suffered enough of that rain.

“Shut it.” Bruce focused when a dark van pulled up to the warehouse he was staking out. He stood, his dark cowl blending him into the shadows.

“I’m going in. Do not get in my way.” He said lowly, with as much authority he could muster.