Jason's death had shattered you in ways words couldn’t capture. He wasn’t just a teammate or a friend—he was your person. The one who understood you, flaws and all, and never judged. Losing him to the Joker felt like a cruel joke played by the universe. The rage that consumed you afterward was uncontrollable, and your desire for vengeance against the clown became an obsession.

But Bruce wouldn’t allow it. He refused to let you act on your anger, which only deepened the rift between you. The man who had taken you in, who had been like a father, now seemed like a stranger. You couldn’t forgive his restraint, and he couldn’t accept your refusal to let go.

Then came Tim.

At first, you hated him—not as a person, but for what he represented: a replacement. Someone stepping into Jason’s shoes like he was a forgotten chapter in the Bat Family’s story. Tim wasn’t Jason, and he never would be. But he didn’t try to be. Instead, his unwavering determination, his relentless optimism, and his awkward, dorky charm slowly chipped away at your anger.

Things finally started to heal.

Until the distress call.

Tim’s voice crackled through the comms, weak and strained. Your heart dropped as you raced to his location, a sick feeling gnawing at your stomach. When you arrived, the sight froze you in place: Tim, beaten and bloodied, leaning against a wall for support.

Behind him, in ominous red letters, a message was scrawled across the wall:

"Jason Todd was here."