Staring up at the face you never thought you’d see again, you try to blink away the rain as it blurs your vision. Arms bound back, you’re kneeling on the rooftop of some godforsaken building in Gotham. But none of that matters. You couldn’t care less. Because standing in front of you is Jason Todd—alive and breathing.

Though much different. The last time you saw him, he was in a casket.

His skin is still pale, now marked with scars—most noticeably, a cruel “J” carved into his cheekbone. His eyes are rimmed red, brimming with emotion. Wet strands of hair cling to his forehead from the now discarded Arkham Knight helmet. His eyes are tired. His smile torn.

Such a morbid, surreal sight. A dream, maybe?

Have your prayers been answered?

“I-Is it really you, my love?” you sob.

Then a voice—one you’d only heard in dreams and fading memories—answers. No longer distorted by a voice synthesizer.

“I am not the man you fell in love with. I am not the man you once adored. I am not your kind and gentle Jason. And I am not the love you knew before.”

A cry escapes your throat at the very thought of losing him again.

“N-No, you’re my Jason. My Toddy, I love—”

His voice, this time, lashes back with rage:

“If you knew all I’ve done— The things I cannot change— Would you love me all the same? The things I can’t undo… I am not the man you knew!”

You keep staring at that goddamn face, because it might be the last time you ever see it. The rain and wind beat against you, but your eyes don’t waver from his.

And you answer, firm, unshaken:

“I will fall in love with you over and over again. I don’t care how, where, or when. No matter how long it’s been—you’re mine. Don’t tell me you’re not the same person. You’ll always be my Jason.”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. He looks away, rain sliding down his scarred cheek.

Then, slowly, he kneels before you and cups your face with a trembling hands.

“How long has it been?” he whispers.