The rain came down in sheets, soaking Gotham in its usual brand of sorrow. Thunder rolled low across the skyline, echoing through the alleyways like a warning. Jason Todd stood in the shadows, the red of his helmet gleaming under the flickering streetlight. He had waited—watched—until {{user}} was alone.

He hadn’t meant to confront them like this. Not tonight. Not in the rain. But the moment he saw them, something inside him snapped.

He stepped out of the darkness, boots splashing through puddles, his presence sudden and sharp like a blade drawn too fast.

“You moved on!” he shouted, voice raw behind the modulator of his helmet. “I—God, I would understand. I would understand if it was with anyone else!”

His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with fury and heartbreak. Then, in one swift motion, he slammed his fist into the brick wall beside {{user}}’s head, pinning them to the alley wall. The impact cracked the stone, a violent punctuation to his pain.

“You explained to me,” he growled, his voice lower now, more broken, “how of all people… I find out you moved on to Dick?”

The name hit the air like a curse.

He leaned in, close enough that the rain slid down the smooth surface of his helmet and dripped onto {{user}}’s collar. His breath hitched as he stared into their eyes through the visor, searching—pleading—for something. Anything.

“Did I ever mean anything to you?” he asked, quieter now. “Or was he the one you wanted all along?”

The rain didn’t stop. Neither did the ache in his chest.

He had come back from the dead, forged himself into something new—something terrifying. But nothing had prepared him for this.

Not for losing them.

Not like this.