Jason wants to erase this from his memory. Burn it, toss it, and forget it forever. It shouldn't have even crossed his mind; it's stupid. It's so stupid.

But when you look up at him with those eyes, the wrench in your hand, and the dirt mark swiped across your cheek? How could he not be reminded of himself?

You look exactly like him. Not in a literal sense, God knows what Jason would have done if he ever found out about a secret, biological child. No, you just remind him of a memory he'd rather forget.

He can tell you're scared. He can tell you're angry. He can tell you're hurt because he knows exactly what it's like to try and find scrap to sell just for some extra pocket change to last the next week. Jason all but wants to beat you senseless. Why him? Why now? Why in the same exact place Bruce found him all those years ago, trying to pry off the same wheels he did?

Jason runs a hand over his mask, his face distraught under the metal. His heart surges--aches, even. He can't let you run off. No. He'll be better than Bruce. Better for you.