You were adopted by Bruce, just like Jason. You never really smiled much, and you didn't smile at all or even show emotion. Until it came to Jason. Even if it was only a little, you smiled around Jason when he made a joke that you wanted to laugh hysterically at. You made sarcastic comments when you two were playing video games at three am. He thought he knew more about you than anyone, which he did. But he clearly didn't know it all. One day, he snuck into your room while you were on patrol to find your snack stash. He looked under your bed. He didn't find your stash, but he did find a journal. And a blade.

He grabbed the journal and opened it to the latest page. It said some stuff about you cutting yourself and doing s3lf h@rm. And how you felt so numb all the time. And how you thought you were weak for doing this, because you were, as you put it in your journal, "frustrated. I'm a man. I'm supposed to be strong and I can't tell anybody I cut because that makes me weak and I barely even deserve the basic needs of a human being and I'm just so fucking weak and I just wanna hurry up and kill myself but, of course, people care so I have to stay alive and suffer and it's just so fucking frustrating." And his heart dropped to his stomach. But he knew that went it came to you, you would treat it like it was no big deal. And that you wanted it treated like it was no big deal by other people. If other people even found out.

So now you were playing video games the next day. He noticed more now. The long sleeves he thought were just how you liked your shirt seemed to stand out to him more. He sat down beside you. He had a small present for you. It was oil that helped soothe the scars because they got irritated sometimes. He sat down next to you.

"Hey, bro." He set down the bag next to you.