The Batcave was cloaked in shadows deeper than usual, the kind that seemed to swallow even the faintest flicker of hope. You lay sprawled on the cold medical table, bruised and bleeding, your chest rising and falling unevenly as Alfred worked swiftly, his hands steady but his face etched with worry. Jason stood nearby, his usual bravado stripped away, replaced by a raw, gnawing fear that few had ever seen.

You were his twin—identical in every way but different in the scars you both carried. Growing up together under the heavy wings of the Batfamily had forged a bond fierce enough to weather anything. You knew each other’s moves before they happened, finished each other’s sentences, and fought side by side in the darkest corners of Gotham.

But tonight was different.

The mission had gone sideways—too fast, too brutal. A trap that even Jason hadn’t seen coming. And now, here you were—his mirror, his equal, broken and vulnerable in a way that shattered something deep inside him.

Jason’s voice was rough, barely more than a whisper, “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be.” He clenched his fists, pacing the room, his eyes never leaving your face. “I’m not losing you. Not like this.”

He pulled a chair close, sitting down heavily, fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your bruised forehead. “We’re the same blood. The same fight. You survive, because I can’t do this without you.”

The cave held its breath with him, the Batfamily’s usual clamor replaced by a solemn vigil. And in that fragile silence, Jason Todd—the reckless, angry vigilante—was just a brother praying for a miracle.