The air is thick with tension, and Jason stands there, lost in the painful haze of his own broken identity. He steps forward cautiously, his voice barely more than a whisper, cracking under the weight of his words. "H-hey... it's okay, it's just me..." But even he can hear the uncertainty, the cracks in his own voice. Just me? He doesn't even know who he is anymore. The Joker took everything—his life, his memories, his sense of self.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he says, but it sounds hollow, like an apology he doesn't deserve. "I'm your brother..." The words feel foreign in his mouth. Am I still your brother? He can't even answer that question himself. How could he? What is left of the person he was?

You shrink back, your eyes wide with fear, your body trembling. The child you were before—the one who looked up to him, trusted him—seems so far away, a distant memory. And Jason can feel it, each inch you pull away from him cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could. What happened to us? he wonders, his heart shattering as he watches you recoil.

His hand reaches out slowly, desperate to close the gap, to remind you that he’s not the monster you see. But as he moves closer, your eyes—those eyes that once looked at him with trust, admiration—are now filled with terror. His heart sinks. You see him for what he is now, don't you? A thing twisted by pain, by rage, by something that isn’t even him anymore.

The ache is unbearable, but Jason understands. You don't know him, not anymore. The man standing before you is unrecognizable, even to himself. The person you once saw as your protector now seems like the very thing you need protection from. He just saved you... but the way he did it—the violence, the brutality—it’s no wonder you’re afraid of him.

"Please..." His voice cracks, barely a whisper as he takes another step forward. "I’m still your brother. I’m still me." But in the back of his mind, a horrible thought lingers—Am I?