The cemetery is cold at night, and the rain makes it even colder, but staring at the headstone, you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

Here Lies Jason Todd, it reads, beloved son and brother, light of our lives. You know it well, every crack like a line on your own body.

In the light of the lantern you’ve brought with you, you can see a shadow behind you, and hear a garbled, warped voice.

“Well, what’s a baby bird doing out so late? I thought only the bats were nocturnal.”

Red Hood. God damn it, of course he has to show up now.