You were sitting on the rooftop, the place where you used to feel invincible. Now, it was just a distant echo of who you used to be.

Jason watched from the shadows, perched higher up. He’d been tracking you for weeks. He’d expected to feel anger or hatred, but all he felt was this gnawing sense of betrayal.

He’d once been Robin, fighting crime as a sidekick. You were a small time hero back then, too. Jason had gotten along with you instantly. There weren't many heroes his age back then.

He’d been your first boyfriend, your first everything, before Joker "killed" him.

You’d moved on. Left the vigilante life behind. Found someone else.

He dropped onto the rooftop behind you. Your muscles tensed, instinct kicking in, but you were slower now, rusty. It was almost laughable how much time had dulled you.

“Don’t move,” Jason said, his voice altered by his helmet. He leveled the gun at your chest. Jason tilted his head, letting the silence stretch for a beat too long. “You don’t even realize who I am, do you?” he asked as he took a step closer. “C’mon. You know me.”

He clicked a button on the side of his helmet, and with a hiss, it slid off. He held it in one hand, his blue eyes locking onto yours. He wanted to see the recognition hit, wanted to see the horror when you realized who he was.

When you gasped, it was like a twisted victory.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, his lips curving into a bitter smile. He tilted his head, letting you take in every scar, every hard angle of his face, the ‘J’ carved into his cheek. “Jason Todd. Ring any bells?”

Your expression was a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

“I’d ask if you missed me,” he said, voice cold, “but I don’t think you did.”

Because he’d seen your new life, your new boyfriend, the way you’d slipped out of the world you once shared with him. While he’d clawed his way back from hell, you’d moved on. And yet, here you were, on this rooftop, a ghost of who you used to be.