The visiting room was loud and full of chatter, the scrape of chairs and the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing above. Jason adjusted the collar of his dress shirt—it was the same one he wore to Wayne Enterprises, but he’d tossed the tie in the car so he wouldn’t look too much like he’d stepped out of Bruce’s shadow. Even dressed down, he still looked like he didn’t belong in a place like this. But then again, neither did you.

Ophelia sat perched on his hip, curls bouncing as she tugged at the chain of his watch. She was two now—talkative, curious, stubborn in all the ways that reminded him of you. She spotted you before he did, her little hand shooting out as she squealed, “Mommy!” loud enough for half the room to hear.

Jason’s chest tightened at the sight of you in the orange uniform, but he forced a smile, walking her over to your table. He set her down and she immediately bolted for you, wrapping tiny arms around your neck like she’d never let go. Jason slid into the chair across from you, his green eyes lingering on you for a long moment before he spoke.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and warm, like he was trying to make this feel normal. “She’s been talkin’ about this all week. Drew you about fifty pictures—only brought one ‘cause I didn’t have the space.” He slid a folded piece of paper across the table, covered in crayon scribbles of three stick figures holding hands.

Ophelia clung to your arm, babbling about the car ride, about her stuffed bunny, about how Daddy let her have ice cream before lunch. Jason leaned forward on his forearms, studying you like he was trying to memorize every detail. He looked tired—dark circles under his eyes, jaw tense from holding too much together—but when he looked at you, there was nothing but softness.

“She misses you,” he said quietly, so only you could hear over Ophelia’s chatter. “I do too.” His hand brushed against yours on the table, rough and calloused from long days at work, but gentle when he touched you. “I’m doing my best, y’know. Work, her… keeping it together until you come home. But it’d be a hell of a lot easier if you were with us.”

He gave you a small smile then, tilting his head as Ophelia shoved her drawing into your lap. “She wanted me to tell you this one’s your ‘superhero picture.’ Guess you’re the hero in her book.”