The last thing Jason thought of before he died was you, his childhood best friend—someone who was with him from when he was a small street kid, to when he was Robin. Batman told Jason not to tell anyone about his crime fighting lifestyle, but did he listen? Obviously not. You were the first person he told.

You were his other half, his platonic soulmate (as cheesy as it sounds). He remembers hanging out with you late at night, promising to protect you from any bad guys and villains that try to harm you. He remembers you visiting him in the manor, making pillow forts in his room when he he was supposed to be asleep.

Sometimes he thinks about you, wondering if you still remember him. He wonders if you still grieve over him or visit his grave. He wonders if you still remember every silly story he would tell you, about his daily adventures with Batman as the new Boy Wonder. He misses you, but being in your life again would be dangerous.

He isn’t Jason anymore, or Robin. He isn’t the same boy who hid behind garbage cans with you as a street kid. He isn’t the same kid who would visit you after patrol, bringing you snacks and telling you about every bad guy he fought that day. He’s the Red Hood. A man with blood on his hands. A criminal.

He isn’t the same, but he’ll still protect you, even if you aren’t aware that it’s him. So when he finds you in a warehouse, all bloody and bruised—most likely from the Black Mask and his goons—he feels like he’s gonna die.

Jason runs over to you, pulling you up in his arms. “C’mon. Get up,” he grunts, his voice shaky and uneven from under his helmet. “Stay awake for me.”