A constant reminder of the passing of time was provided by the quiet house's clock, which ticked softly. As you stood by the window, staring out into the dimly lit street, you were Jason's wife. It was the kind of suburban calm you used to think you wanted, the kind of peaceful neighborhood. The weight of your new life, however, was bearing down on you as the minutes turned into hours.

Putting everything else on hold, Jason had resumed his nightly patrol as the Red Hood. He would go, you would wait, and the cycle would start again countless times. It was the same pattern every time. Now, confined within their home, her world was getting smaller by the day, the once fierce and independent woman who had won Jason Todd's heart.

Just a few months old, their son slept soundly in the nearby room. You've been taking care of him, cleaning the house, and making dinner all day—everything a perfect housewife should do. But you couldn't help but get a twinge of bitterness and nostalgia for the person you used to be as soon as you saw your reflection in the glass.

Deep in contemplation, you heard the creak of the front door opening. With his mask off and his shoulders heaving from fatigue, Jason entered. He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, looking through the contents without even looking at you. Then he asked, almost in a blunt manner, "Is dinner ready?"