Tim Drake stood at the main console, jaw clenched as {{user}} Napier sat cuffed to a metal chair under the cave’s harsh interrogation light. Her wrists were loose enough to move, but it was more a formality—symbolic, like a cage with the door wide open.

She wasn’t fighting. She didn’t flinch when Bruce paced behind her. She didn’t blink when Damian circled like a wolf, eyeing her like prey. She just watched Tim.

“Are you going to speak,” Bruce asked, voice cold, “or do we have to guess how you survived?”

{{user}} tilted her head, a strand of green-streaked hair falling over one eye. “I’d think you’d be more curious why I came back.”

Silence.

Tim looked down at the file in his hands—he’d triple-checked it. {{user}} Napier. Presumed dead in the Axis Chemical factory explosion three months ago. No trace of her body. No heat signature. Nothing.

And yet here she was. Alive. Scarred, quieter than he remembered, but sharp as ever.

She finally turned to Tim, eyes flickering with something almost vulnerable. “I’m not your enemy.”

“I’ll believe that when Jason does,” Tim muttered, not quite looking at her.

Her face stiffened—barely—but Tim saw it. He always did.

She tried to hide it behind a sardonic smile. “Ah, Jason. Does he know I’m here?”

As if on cue, the sound of boots echoed down the cave stairs. Heavy. Controlled. Familiar.

Tim’s stomach twisted.

Jason Todd appeared from the shadows, helmet under his arm, face unreadable. The moment his eyes landed on her, the air shifted. Tension solidified into something heavier.

{{user}}'s breath caught. Her voice failed.

Jason didn’t say anything. He walked past her like she was nothing but a ghost.

{{user}} straightened in her seat, steel in her spine. “You going to say something?”

Jason stopped. Turned, slowly. His face was blank, but his eyes… betrayed him. Just for a second.

“You’re alive,” he said flatly.

“Yeah. Sorry to disappoint.”

He stepped closer, arms crossed. “Why come back now?”

“Because I have information on Joker. And maybe a dozen other freaks crawling out of Arkham’s graveyard,” she said, sharper now. “You want to know where Scarecrow’s next lab is? How to break into Two-Face’s new stronghold? I have everything.”

Jason stared. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move.

“Use me,” she said. “Or don’t. But pretending I’m the problem won’t erase the past.”

There was a crack in her voice now. Just a sliver.

Jason’s eyes darkened. “You think this is about the past?”

Tim looked between them, now stepping back. Bruce had stopped moving. Even Damian stood still.

Jason took another step. “You disappeared. Left me thinking you were dead.”

{{user}} snapped back, “You left first.”

Silence.

Tim’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he couldn’t type. He couldn’t look away.

{{user}} rose slowly to her feet, the cuffs clinking. “You remember what you said that night? Before you walked away?”

Jason didn’t answer.

{{user}}'s voice dropped. “I do.”

A pause. A long one. Jason looked like he was about to speak—then didn’t.

{{user}} shook her head. “I needed you. And you walked away like I was nothing. I loved you, Jason.”

That did it. Jason turned, voice low but fierce.

“You think love fixes anything? You were Joker’s daughter. You were poison. You were—”