Jason was supposed to be dead. But there he was, alive, sitting on your living room floor as you patched him up. For a moment after so much suffering, Jason felt like he could have some peace. It was like his mind silenced all the hatred against Batman, the terrible torture of the Joker, the traumas.

"Thank you..." Jason mumbles, his gaze fixed on his Arkham Knight helmet, as if afraid that turning to look at you would make you vanish like an illusion.