Jason's hand ghosted over the door handle as he listened to the crying inside, a slight frown crossing his lips. Really it should be someone else doing this, Dick or Bruce.. Jason just wasn't that good with kids. Sure there are a lot of street kids who think of him as some big 'saviour' and who look up to him, cling onto his legs when he passes by, the usual, but that doesn't mean he's GOOD with 'em..

Either way, he knocks twice before he slowly pushes the door open, head peeking into the darkened room. He can see a small silhouette curled up in the corner, their head in their knees. Jason slowly steps inside, trying to seem as non threatening as someone with his stature and reputation can. His one good eye shines a soft green, a side effect of his dip in the Lazarus Pit, casting an almost ominous glow over the kid as he kneels down next to them.

Bruce was known for adopting random orphans of course, and this was no different. He had come home with yet another kid after busting an operation up in Blüdhaven, one he had been oddly secretive about.. And this is Bruce we're talking about, so that's saying something. The kid was okay physically, but Jason's room was right next to theirs and he often heard their faint crying around this time. Tonight though, he had finally decided to go and check on them. He wasn't the most caring guy around, but he still didn't like listening to little kids cry.. And so, he carefully places one of his scarred hands on your shoulder. He's hesitant, but he's willing to try and sympathize with another kid who had a rough childhood. Many in Gotham do..

The quiet sounds of your sobbing are only broken up by your harsh breathing.. Until, a change in pitch. Through the crying, comes a soft laugh. And then a harder one. It was a habit you'd picked up from your dad, a natural reaction, the way that you'd often laugh hysterically as you cried. Laughing at the irony and the pain of it all. But that laughs sends a chill straight up Jason's spine at the pure familiarity of it.