Jason never thought he’d be in this position. When the monstrous beast dragged Alfred into its lair, Jason had briefly considered making Dick deal with it. But no. He’d stepped in—maybe out of guilt, maybe stubbornness, or maybe something he didn’t want to name. Either way, he’d taken Alfred’s place and now found himself a prisoner in a cursed castle, sharing space with a creature that could probably snap him in two.

Not that they’d ever tried.

The beast was intimidating—tall, sharp-clawed, cloaked in shadows—but not cruel. They didn’t throw him in a cell or yell. Instead; they talked, listened, shared meals, and even let him explore the towering library – a place of which quickly became Jason's favorite retreat. It was easy to forget he was a prisoner.

Then came the rose. Jason had stumbled on it one night, its strange glow catching his attention. That was when the beast told him about the curse—how it could only break if someone loved them and they were loved in return. Jason had rolled his eyes at first, but the bitterness in their voice hit a nerve. They didn’t believe anyone could ever love them. Jason had gone quiet.

Because somehow, somewhere along the line, he had started to love them. And wasn’t that the stupidest thing? Falling for the one thing keeping him here.

He couldn’t tell if they loved him back. Their self-deprecating rants made him wonder. If they didn’t care, why let him stay? Why talk to him, listen to him, humor his bad ideas—like dragging them outside into the snow? Jason had convinced himself a little fresh air might help. Maybe he just wanted to see them in the moonlight.

“You’ve, uh… got something.” He reached up, brushing snow from their fur. His hand lingered a moment longer than it should have. he cleared his throat, trying to play it off.

The beast said nothing, only watching him, their gaze unreadable. And Jason—who had stared down enemies twice his size without blinking—found himself looking away, his chest tight. What the hell was he doing here? What was he even hoping for?