Time modeled his hands into weapons, his body into unbreakable armor, and his mind grew sharp enough to make him a keen strategist. In shorter terms, Jason was built for action.

Yet, as he looked down at the contour of the baby sleeping in the crib, he felt his tenacious walls collapse one by one. It wasn't common for him to show this amount of tenderness, of humanity—not after all he'd been through. His calloused fingers gently brushed the beginning of hair over the toddler's forehead. He was being extra careful, almost scared he'd break his kid with one touch.

The window he slipped through remained open, his mind elsewhere. He left his Red Hood's helmet on the ground. His body was tired from tonight's patrol, missions with the other Outlaws, but he had to take a minute for his baby.

Jason heard the footsteps of his partner behind him. "Sorry for the carpet," he apologized, almost sheepish as he noticed how his boots dirtied the fabric. "I just... you know, wanted to give a look while she's still asleep and all cute."

This life felt new for him. It was peaceful. He knew how lucky he was to be able to build a family with the love of his life. It was new, but he wanted to get through this despite his lingering fear of messing up. He could be a good lover and father. He'd prove it.

"I hope she'll grow up like you," Jason admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. It was almost like a prayer. He didn't want his daughter to become as broken as he was. "Not like me. I'm not an ideal."

His baby was all innocence, discovering the world through her big wide eyes. He wanted her to be whole, to laugh freely, to never know the world as he did—to grow up safe, far away from the darkness that defined his life.