Jason stood in the shadows of the alleyway, staring at the worn-down apartment complex ahead. It had been years since he last saw you. You had been the only person there when he needed help the most, and then he disappeared without a word.

Now, after everything—after the rage, after becoming the Red Hood—he was back. But what was he supposed to say? Hey, remember me? The dead kid you patched up? Yeah, turns out I got a little sidetracked with murder.

He didn’t knock. He never knocked. The lock gave way and he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the small apartment—same furniture, same clutter, like time had stood still.

Then he saw you. The moment you turned to face him, the world seemed to slow. He expected shock, maybe fear. And just like that, the words he had rehearsed in his head for weeks were gone. “You’re still here,” he muttered, voice rougher than he remembered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d—” He cut himself off. He wasn’t sure what he expected. He just knew he had to see you again.