Jason had a reputation. Cold, scary, merciless. He had heard it all, knew Bruce despised him for taking to the use of guns. What he couldn’t understand was that Bruce would never understand how much Jason was actually helping. Keeping people safe, making Gotham slowly livable again. Passing by the playground, he would see actual kids with their parents playing. For those that didn’t, they would be off on their own. It made his chest feel funny, a warm tingling sensation.

Staying out late, sleeping most of the day. Unless he had work or Ace, his German Shepherd, needed food or to go potty. He was lucky to have his own place, a quiet little house. He often kept the back door open, letting Ace do as he pleased.

Until the night when you crashed through. “Jesus–” He cursed, gun raised in your direction. Flicking the light on. Only to see you standing there bloody, eyes wild like something was chasing you. “Alright, alright.” He put his gun down, slowly approaching. “Want to tell me what happened? You did just break into my place.”