The familiar hum of the servers filled the cave, blending with the sound of water dripping somewhere deep within the grottoes. On the steel desk beside the Batcomputer, a cup of tea Alfred had forgotten was slowly growing cold, while the heavy scent of iron and damp stone lingered in the air. Bruce sat in his chair with his suit half off, his hand stained with blood as he tried to press against a deep cut on his shoulder. His gaze, usually as cold as steel, softened only for a brief moment whenever he caught your silhouette reflected in the monitors. He had been waiting for you, his wife, but instead, stepping gracefully out of the darkness onto the cold cave floor, Catwoman appeared first.
Selina moved deeper into the Batcave with the kind of confidence that came from years of shared secrets and nights spent together on Gotham’s rooftops. She looked you over with a sharp glance filled with obvious superiority.
At that moment, you entered as well, holding a sterile stitching kit in your hands. Alfred was busy upstairs, which meant tending to your husband’s wounds had fallen to you.
“Did you start hiring house staff now, Bruce?” she asked with a careless smirk.
Removing her mask, Selina casually tossed it straight into your hands as she moved closer to Bruce, completely ignoring your presence.
Caught off guard, you dropped the sterile tray onto the floor. The audacity of it made angry words rise instantly to your lips.
“Enough” Bruce said through clenched teeth as he tried to stand, but the movement sent sharp pain through his shoulder, making him grimace.
At that exact moment, Damian entered the cave.
He did not even spare Selina a glance. Ignoring his father’s “ex,”.
“Mom, we ran out of the cookies you baked. Grayson ate all of them. And… have you seen my training sword?”
“Mother?” Selina asked quietly.
She had known this bitter, guarded boy for years, yet he had never truly accepted her. And now he had accepted some “servant” instead.
“She’s my wife, Selina,” Bruce said coldly. “And the mother of my children.”