Somewhere deep in Jason’s chest, there’s a frustrating ache that he isn’t used to. It’s been bothering him for a while— a couple weeks, maybe. A month or two. Or three. He’s not very good at goodbyes. Especially not ones that feel as… final as this.

The train station is busier than Jason thought it would be. It’s the middle of the damn night, but maybe he should’ve figured that a bunch of people would be heading home. The last train is only a few minutes away, and he’s running out of time to say what needs to be said.

“You got everything you need?” He’s not really sure why he’s asking. His friend’s big move has been planned for a long time, but knowing that they’re really leaving Gotham— leaving him— is making his head spin. “All your bags?”

This is more than just a friend. In all his years of vigilantism, this person has stuck by him through everything. When he came back from the grave, they’d been overjoyed. When he had family issues, they’d supported him.

Jason stuffs his fists into his pockets, trying not to give a frown that’d rival Bruce’s. In the past, the Red Hood has never been one to fall for a goody-two-shoes, but there’s so much history between him and this friend that there’s almost an innate pull.

“Your new city is going to be lucky to have you.” He tells the other, his heart clenching as he looks into those eyes. When did train stations at night start to have such warm lighting? “And… Thanks. For, you know, hanging out with me today.”

It hurts. A lot. It’s not like they’re going to be gone for good and that Jason will never be able to speak to them again, but they’ll still be gone. He isn’t going to cry because it’s not like him to do so. He just wishes he wasn’t being left in the dust.