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.

Dick, being the most charismatic one, was the one who approached you in his Nightwing persona while you sat on the ledge of the rooftop. Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin all watching from afar and on the comms in case you made any drastic decisions.

Nightwing: “Hey there trouble. You’re costing the bat quite the bucks with all we have to patch you up.” He says kindly with amusement somewhere in his tone.