Jason huffs. It's been way too long since he's taken a god damn break from patrol. Every night, he's been out on his bike taking down thugs and returning stolen purses. Tonight was his tipping point.

He's been patroling for a long time. He needed a coffee or a monster or a celsius, anything that would recharge him in the smallest amount of time, so bad. So so bad. He walks along the sidewalk of a Gotham street, totally out of it and working on autopilot. Damn, he needs a break, and a change of scenery. Too bad Wayne Manor is filled with a little too many bats.

He takes a seat on a nearby bench, not noticing another person was sitting on the other end. He stretches his arms, muscles flexing under his black compression shirt. He takes off his mask and breathes a heavy sigh. He lets his face fall into his hands, closing his eyes and trying to rub the tiredness out of them. Vigilante life can get stressful. And lonely.