Jason sat on the roof, still clad in his Robin attire. The weight of the city pressing in on him. It was a quiet night, the sounds of Gotham’s restless streets echoing below. His mind, though, was anything but quiet. It was consumed with the sense that something was coming. Something he couldn’t outrun, no matter how fast he ran.

The air was cold, but it did little to ease the tension within him. He could feel it—the weight of the danger growing closer, a threat he couldn’t ignore. And then, there you were, your presence grounding him in the chaos of his thoughts.

You didn’t need to ask if he was okay. The silence between you spoke volumes. He didn’t need to look to know you were there. But when you spoke, your voice was a reminder of everything he cared about, everything he stood to lose.

“You’re still out here,” you murmured, a hint of worry in your voice.

He didn’t answer right away. The sound of your voice enough to pull him from the storm of his thoughts. He turned toward you, eyes catching yours for a moment. The fear, the dread—it was there in both of you, unspoken.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he muttered, his voice rough. “I can’t sleep. Not with him out there… coming for me.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time. You both knew what was at stake. The silence between you filled with the understanding of everything that hung in the balance.

“I didn’t ask for this life,” you whispered. “I didn’t ask for him.”

Jason clenched his fist. He wanted to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that none of this was your doing. But words wouldn’t fix this. They never had.

“I didn’t ask for it either,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But now I’m here. With you.”

The air between you grew thicker. He wasn’t a hero. He never had been. But the pull between you was undeniable.

“I’m not asking you to fight for me,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. But instead of responding, he just held your gaze, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you.