Ever since the breakup, you and Jason Todd had perfected the art of avoidance.

Different patrol routes. Different safehouses. Conversations clipped and strictly professional when you did run into each other. You told yourself it was easier that way. Cleaner. Less messy than acknowledging the way his presence still made your chest tighten.

Tonight proved how bad that plan was.

The elevator doors slid shut behind the two of you with a soft ding, the space already too small, too quiet. Jason leaned against the wall, helmet tucked under his arm, jaw tight as he stared straight ahead.

Then the elevator lurched.

Lights flickered. A grinding sound echoed overhead before everything jolted to a dead stop.

Silence.

Jason sighed first, rubbing a hand over his face.

-"You’ve gotta be kidding me."