Work Text:
I don't own 'em, DC does, but I play with 'em.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Silence.
It hung heavily in the Great Manor, the house weighted down with centuries of quiet.
Silence draped over the Grand Foyer, the chandelier’s crystals clinking as a plane flew far, far overhead, only vibrations reaching Earth.
Through the library, the study, the dining room, and the ballroom, quiet steeped as if in a cup of Alfred’s favorite Earl Grey tea.
In the kitchen, there was only the occasional click of the stove’s timer as blueberry muffins baked in the oven.
Up in the bedrooms, silk was silent. In one of the bathrooms, the occasional drip-drip-drip of a shower head was complemented by the whisper of a breeze-blown curtain at the bedroom window. The silent rush of air slipped down through the hallway, down the polished mahogany stairs, passing through the grandfather clock, which ticked precisely, down, down, into the ‘Cave. Batwings rustled and moisture dripped, computers humming.
Water lapped in the pool up on the grounds, the errant breeze blowing through the trees, their sighs echoing sadness from human hearts. A robin chirped in the trees as windchimes tinkled delicately by the kitchen door.
Footsteps sounded through the house, a measured pace as they trod from room to room, pace quickening until finally leather glided across grass. A slender figure stood at the seawall, facing the glittering ocean.
“Dick.”
The figure stiffened.
“I’m sorry.”
The voice was sad and defeated. Dick turned around, eyes brimming with tears of…anger? Frustration? Sorrow?
Dick reached out a hand and Bruce took it, his own tears shimmering as he pulled the younger man into an embrace.
Silence.
This time, healing.