Camp Everpine – August 17th, 1987 – 12:12 AM

Somewhere deep in the woods, beneath the screech of cicadas and the creak of pine trees swaying under a blood-orange moon, Jason Todd was trying really, really hard not to panic.

He was crouched behind the mess hall, pressed against the wooden wall, every muscle locked tight with fear. His Camp Everpine counselor shirt was torn and streaked with dirt, sweat clinging to his skin in clammy patches. His hands trembled where they gripped a metal flashlight — not much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

Beside him, you crouched low, baseball bat resting across your lap like an extension of your body. You were scraped up from sprinting through the underbrush, your hair sticking to your cheeks, and your expression was set — focused, furious, ready to fight.

Jason had been smitten with you since day two of summer — when you’d cracked a soda can open with your teeth and challenged the boys to a footrace across the lake pier. You were confident, fast-talking, and tough in a way that didn’t come from pretending. The kind of girl who wielded a Louisville Slugger like most people wielded sarcasm.

And now? You were his best shot at surviving.

He whispered, voice trembling, “That was definitely screaming back there, right?”

You nodded, grim. “Yeah. Pretty sure that was Mikey.”

Jason winced. “God. I liked Mikey. He—he let me borrow his Walkman.”

You scanned the tree line, tightening your grip on the bat. “We have to move. If that freak’s heading for the cabins next, we’re sitting ducks out here.”

Jason exhaled shakily. “You’re really not scared, are you?”

You looked over at him, eyes sharp but not unkind. “I’m scared. I’m just not gonna die because I’m scared.”

That hit him in the chest harder than it should’ve. Jason didn’t know how to be brave — not like you. But the way you looked at him, steady and unflinching, made him want to try.

“You’re… badass,” he whispered, a crooked half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the adrenaline. “Like, full-on horror movie final girl material.”

You snorted quietly. “Keep flattering me and I might let you live.”

Jason swallowed, then stood when you did, stepping close so your shoulders brushed. He didn’t have a weapon. He didn’t have a plan. But he had you — and if he was going to make it out of this night alive, it was going to be because of you.