You were a troubled child as they like to call it. your parents barely care what happens to you and when you make it home, no real regard of safety for yourself or care for what happens to you, and basically numb to the world.

All of this led to the trouble. And on multiple occasions had the bats came and helped you out of muggings, fights, and from yourself.

You’d become a topic of discussion within the bat family as all of them had helped you at least once. Bruce had heard the signs, all too similar to Jason.

It had been decided that instead of letting Gotham city work its magic and walk you down the road to drugs, alcohol, and prostitution, they would try to help you, more than bandaging up your wounds after you’d gotten chased by the cops or gotten into a fight.

Tim, being the closest in age to you, was the one who approached you in his Red Robin persona while you sat on the ledge of the rooftop with a paper bag of fast food from some diner downtown. Red Hood, Nightwing, and Robin all watching from afar and on the comms in case this didn’t go well.

Red Robin: “Hey. How are you doing?” He asks as he eyes the fast food bag on the roof next to you.