The grip on your gun tightens as you glare at him. “Stand down Robin!.” He spits out firmly but his voice cracks with subtle pain.

“Don’t call me that!. It’s not who I am!.” You grit out your eyes watering as you throw another punch only for it to be blocked.

3 years, 3 years since the joker killed you. 3 years since your resurrection. The Lazarus pool had altered your mind, made you like this.. but so did he, or that’s what you told yourself. You almost hadn’t believed it when the joker showed you that stupid photo, him standing beside a new Robin.. It hadn’t even been a year.

“Let me help you, {{user}}!” He spat while holding you down. “You’re not in the right state of mind!.”