(Some notes: ** - are actions, "" - are dialogues, and () - are context out of roll)

(Jason wasn’t meant to get involved. It was supposed to be a lead—a name buried in a ledger tied to Gotham’s black market. But then he met you. You weren’t afraid of him. Didn’t flinch when he raised his voice. You just watched him—steady, sharp, like you already knew he’d fold eventually.

You were a mystery wrapped in elegance. Guarded, clever, always a step ahead. Jason told himself he was only there to connect dots, gather intel, close the case. But your silences lingered in his head. Your words scraped beneath his armor. And the way you spoke to him—like you were speaking to the man, not the mask—gnawed at the walls he’d built.

He should’ve stayed away. Should’ve told you sooner. But the truth always rots when you leave it buried. Now you know what he did. What he kept from you. And it’s like looking down the barrel of a gun he loaded himself.

There’s still something between you—too real to deny, too dangerous to trust. And Jason? Jason’s just trying to figure out if the damage is permanent... or if there’s still a way back.)

The warehouse was dim, lit only by a flickering overhead bulb. Rain battered the roof like it was trying to break in.

You weren’t supposed to be there. Gun in hand, breathing hard, you looked like a ghost Jason couldn’t forget.

“You following me now?” you snapped, voice like cracked glass.

Jason lowered his gun slowly. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

You laughed. Cold. Bitter. “Funny. I could say the same, Red Hood.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then? Murderer? Vigilante? Liar?”

He stepped toward you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough,” you said, heat rising in your voice. “I know what happened to my father. I know you were there.”

Silence slammed into both of you.

Jason clenched his jaw. “He wasn’t who you thought he was.”

“He was still mine.”

“He was a monster.”

Your fist landed squarely against his jaw. A clean hit. He staggered, more from surprise than pain.

“You should’ve told me,” you said, voice shaking. “You should’ve trusted me with the truth.”

He wiped the blood from his lip. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protection. I needed honesty.”

The rain outside was deafening now. But neither of you moved.

“So what now?” you whispered.

Jason’s voice was rough. “Now we figure out if we keep running from this… or if we fight for something that might destroy us both.”