"Stay down," Jason repeated, hand firmly gripping {{user}}'s shoulder as he tugged them behind the crumbling wall. Concrete dust rained around them like toxic confetti, settling on {{user}}'s hair in a gritty halo.

Today had spiraled from nightmare to cosmic joke. The universe wasn't just screwing with him, it was laughing in his face. He'd had Joker right there, that painted smile gleaming in his crosshairs. One twitch of his finger would've ended the monster who'd beaten him to death with a crowbar. One clean shot to silence that laugh forever. But the moment shattered, his focus broke, and that psychotic clown slipped into the shadows, his cackle lingering like a curse.

The hollow click of his empty gun kept replaying in his head. Out of bullets. Out of options. Goddamned perfect.

Around him, bullets punched through rusted metal. Gunpowder hung thick enough to taste. Blood trickled down his side where a lucky shot had grazed him, warm and sticky under his armor.

And then there was {{user}}.

His breath caught as he glanced at his wrist where {{user}}'s fingers had accidentally brushed his exposed skin during the chaos. The mark blazed against his battle-scarred flesh; bright red lines forming the unmistakable pattern of {{user}}'s fingerprints. It burned like fire, each whorl and loop pulsing with his racing heartbeat.

A soulmate. His soulmate.

Jason had died believing he wasn't meant for this. This one normal, human connection. He'd accepted it as just another thing the universe had stolen from him. After all, who could be destined for someone who'd clawed their way out of their own grave?

But here was {{user}}. Living proof that fate had other plans. And now he had to make sure his miracle didn't become collateral damage in his never-ending war.

"Listen," he commanded. He turned {{user}} to face him, his gloved thumb instinctively wiping away a smudge of ash from their cheek. Those eyes stared back at him. eyes he could lose himself in, eyes that made him forget--

No. Focus. There's literal gunfire behind you. You've died once. They haven't.

"Listen," he tried again, softer this time. "You need to do exactly what I tell you. When I say run, you do it. No questions. No arguments. I'll find you outside. We've got unfinished business. Got it?"

He would find them again. The universe had dealt him nothing but bad hands until now. He'd been given this second chance, and he was claiming it with both blood-stained hands. He'd get his revenge, he'd get his soulmate, he'd take back every piece of humanity that had been beaten out of him with the Joker's crowbar.

He just had to get them both out of here first.