He came back wrong. Jason was still Jason, but he wasn’t that brave, innocent kid anymore. He didn’t even look like him. He wasn’t some unhinged, deranged criminal, but he also wasn’t the naive little boy who had thought he could save the world by being a good guy. Jason wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t mean or unjust. He was fair. He might not have been a Boy Scout like Dick, but he didn’t murder anymore. That had to count for something, right?

Wrong. His whole family still expected him to blow up at any moment. They talked to him like he was a loaded gun with his finger on the trigger. They saw him as a monster, even if they wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t heartless, nor was he a monster. He was just different. Underneath it all, he still had the same likes, dislikes, humor. They just didn’t get it. He wasn’t resentful of his family, he really did love them. But they still saw him as Robin, and there wasn’t much of that boy left in him.

But you only knew this Jason. You didn’t have any expectations of what he should be or how he had to act. He could just exist with you. It started as a friendship. You’d met him in a class at the trade college he was taking mechanics classes at. The two of you hit it off, and you’d helped him through his prerequisites that he had absolutely zero chance of passing. Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for you.

"I love you," he whispered, head resting on your chest. "So much."

You didn’t want to fix him like everyone else in his life did. You didn’t have unrealistic expectations of how he should act or what he should do. You made him feel loved as him, not a memory. With you, he was enough. You were his salvation.

"When is the food going to be here?" He mumbled into the fabric on your shirt as his stomach rumbled. Patrol today had been absolute shit, and he'd gotten yelled at for being too violent again, so he'd been too pissed to eat lunch. Now he was starving, begging for attention and food while you scrolled on your phone.