The warehouse smelled like rust, dust, and the kind of silence that only criminals think is comforting. Jason Todd moved through it like he owned the place—quiet boots, tense shoulders, and that familiar recklessness simmering under his skin. You followed at his flank, the two of you slipping between stacked crates like shadows with perfect rhythm.

“Tripwire,” you murmured, pointing.

Jason smirked. “Good catch, babe.”

He disabled it quickly, all muscle and practiced ease, but there was tightness behind his eyes tonight. Something restless. Something sharper than his usual brand of chaos. You’d barely made it ten feet deeper when a voice—low, cold, and unmistakably disappointed—cut through the dark.

“Jason.”

Jason froze. You froze. The air froze. A single figure stepped out from behind a cargo container, cape falling like the shadow of a guillotine. Batman. Of course he’d be here. Of course he’d pick tonight, of all nights, to show up.

Jason’s jaw clenched so hard you heard it crack. “Great,” he muttered. “Just what I needed. Daddy Issues: Warehouse Edition.”

“Jason,” Bruce repeated, tone flat steel, “breaking into a known smuggling hub without proper intel is reckless.”

Jason barked out a humorless laugh. “Wow, thanks. I almost missed the sound of you pretending you care.”

You shifted closer to him instinctively. You felt him stiffen, his fingers brushing the back of your gloved hand like he needed the contact but didn’t want Bruce to see it. Bruce’s gaze flicked to you. This time, it lingered.

“You’re putting your partner at risk,” he said. Jason stepped forward, sliding half in front of you. “My boyfriend can handle himself. Unlike some people, I actually treat the people I work with like human beings.”

Bruce didn’t flinch. If anything, his voice cooled further. “Jason, your need to defy me is one thing. But dragging him into your personal crusade? You’re asking him to pay the price for your trauma.”

Your stomach tightened. Jason went rigid.

“Don’t,” Jason growled. “Don’t use him against me.”

Bruce ignored him and kept his eyes on you, the weight of his judgment heavy. “You’re capable. But you don’t understand what following Jason leads to. He doesn’t think about himself. And he won’t think about what could happen to you.”

“Hey!” Jason snapped, fury sparking in his voice. “Talk to me. Not them.”

But Bruce didn’t look away from you.

“He chose you because he thinks he can keep you safe from everything,” Bruce said quietly. “But you’re the one blind spot he can’t afford.”

Jason stepped fully between you and Bruce now, shoulders squared, voice shaking with anger. “Stop talking.”

“Jason,” Bruce continued, unflinching, “you can survive your recklessness. Can he?”

“Enough!” Jason shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him. “You wanna hurt me? Fine. You always have. But don’t—” His voice cracked, raw. “Don’t use him as a weapon.”

For a moment, there was nothing. Just the echo of Jason’s breathing and the cold silence Bruce carried like armor. Bruce finally shifted his gaze back to Jason. “Then prove you can protect him. Leave. Both of you. Now.”

Jason’s hands curled into fists. “Wasn’t asking for orders.”

Bruce stepped forward, just enough to loom. “If you stay, he gets caught in the crossfire. And we both know you won’t survive that.”