you'd died.

Jason had watched you be killed, shot in the head and thrown off a building. The family knew you died because Bruce buried your body himself.

mourning was hard, sure almost all of them have died at some point, but it never hurt any less. And with all of the emotional baggage that they had already, it made it even harder. Some of them, like Jason and Bruce, mourned with anger- tossing themselves into training or vigilante work, but it didn't really ease the pain.

Jason was the first to spot someone standing in the front lawn, shrouded in shadows so he couldn't see your face. He sighed with annoyance, blowing smoke out of his mouth and putting the cigarette he was out on the railing of the balcony he stood on before making his way down to the front door. It was late, so late that most of the family was asleep.

"Hey, this is private property." he called out as he opened the door, a furrow settling in his brow when you didn't respond.

Jason flicked the light on. "did you hear-" his words stopped as the light hit your face and he realized who stood before him.

the dirt and grime that covered your body gave you a very 'I just crawled out of the grave' look, a few bruises on your hands and legs caught his concern, and he could faintly see the outlines of scrapes on your exposed skin.

his first reaction was complete and utter shock, and then -oddly enough- he almost choked on the air in his lungs as he walked forward.

The look on your face and the white streak in your bangs told him all he needed to know, and all he wished he could undo for you.