Heartbreak had hollowed out the family.

One of their own—{{user}}—was gone. Killed. Taken from them far too soon.

Jason took it the hardest. {{user}} had been his first love, his first partner in the field, his first real tether to something good in this life.

And now, they were just... a memory. A silence that echoed in the places they used to laugh.

---

The Batcave was cold tonight. Colder than usual. The hum of the computers and the faint scuff of Jason’s boots were the only sounds as he descended the steps. His eyes landed on Bruce—quiet, unmoving—as he reverently hung up a mask. {{user}}’s mask. It still had a small scuff on the left lens, just like it always did.

Jason’s throat tightened. “So,” he said, voice rough but trying to stay level, “when’s the funeral?”

Bruce didn’t turn around. “It already happened.”

Jason froze. “What do you mean, it already happened?” His voice rose, brittle with disbelief.

Bruce finally turned, face shadowed. “The mortuary delivered the coffin last night. I... I had them buried in the family plot this morning.”

Jason stared at him. “You buried them without telling me?”

“They’re gone, Jason,” Bruce said, quietly. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think I’d want to say goodbye?” Jason snapped, fury and grief boiling up from somewhere deep and jagged. “You didn’t think I deserved to be there?”

Bruce said nothing.

For a moment, the silence between them was louder than any argument. Then Jason looked away, jaw clenched, eyes burning.

“They were my everything,” he whispered. “And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”