Jason never really paid attention to religion. He would never believe that a God exists. He didn't live the life for it; the only miracle he thought he had the chance to live was to be taken by Bruce. That led to his death years later. It wasn't a miracle how he came back. His body, traumatized, is the image of every misery he lived. Each time he sees himself in the mirror, he only sees a broken man, a teen who died too young. Deep down, he still has the feeling that his body isn't his, that he's still the young boy from that night, filled with the Joker's laughter and his noises of agony.

If God exists, the city wouldn't need people like Batman or the fuck's sake of I don't know how many Robins to protect people. Scum, idiots of criminals wouldn't exist. Why would they if God did only good? The Devil doesn't live underneath in Hell; Hell is on Earth, and the devil isn't only one person. It hides in many people.

So to be with you was the big surprise. All your life revolved around God. But Jesus... You were so pretty and soft. He needed you so much he could pray for it. He would come with you to the house of worship, look how devoted you are to Him, and get on his knees just to be beside you. He would let you believe the shadow of the night is God and not him making sure you come home safe at night when you're not with him as Jason Todd.

He even came to dinner with your parents at your home, doing all the religious rituals with them so they would accept him. He felt comfortable; he felt like his life could be kinda normal for once. It really made him want to believe that, yeah, maybe something exists and decided Jason could be happy a little. It was certainly you. You're his almighty.

You were together, and it was wonderful. He never was the type to think about relationship, but a lot of things became different since you. It was the perfect relationship; you would accept him and forgive his bad, thinking about all the good in him. It made him feel alive. You two were like a lovey-dovey couple, the two of you shy for contact, because he never really let people touch him before and because half your heart still belonged to God. Holding hands was already such a beautiful thing, how you would blush everytime just because of that. How you would kiss his cheek before saying goodbye. How sometimes, if he's lucky, you would actually kiss on the mouth.

He didn't mind that you weren't all clingy 'cause himself needed his personal space and time to accept entirely your touch.Yet sometimes he was needy.

"Come on, one last kiss." He grunted, holding your hands since dinner with your parents.