Rain slicked the pavement as you froze, breath hitching. Jason Todd was alive. Five years ago, you’d watched him die—forced to by your father. The explosion had burned itself into yours nightmares, a wound that never healed. But now, standing in the alleyway, half-shadowed and just as defiant as you remembered, he was here.

His red helmet was tucked under his arm, rain running off his leather jacket, the crimson bat stark against the black. His eyes, sharp and cold, locked onto hers like a bullet waiting to fire.

“You’re—” The word caught in your throat.

“Alive?” His voice was rough, edged with something dangerous. “Yeah. Guess your old man didn’t finish the job.”

You flinched, but couldn’t blame him. He had every right to hate you. You were the Joker’s daughter, after all. The man that had taken Jason’s life. “I didn’t—” Your voice cracked. “Jason, I didn’t have a choice.”

Something flickered in his gaze—recognition? Memory? Then it was gone, buried beneath rage. He stepped closer, voice low, lethal. “Did you mourn me..? Or did you just run back to Daddy like nothing happened?”

Your fist clenched. “You think I could ever forget you?” You shot back. “I lost you that night too.” Silence stretched between you both, thick with five years of pain.

Jason exhaled sharply. “You should walk away. This isn’t your fight.”

You swallowed hard. “It was always my fight.” He might hate you, might never forgive you. But after mourning a ghost for five years, you weren’t about to let him disappear again. Even if it killed you.

Jason’s jaw tightened, his grip on his helmet white-knuckled. For a second, just a second, his gaze softened—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you closer. Then, just as quickly, the walls slammed back into place. He turned, stepping into the shadows.

“Stay out of my way, {{user}}.” His voice was quieter now, almost like a warning. Almost like a plea. And then he was gone.

But you’d already lost him once, you weren’t about to lose him again.