"No, no, you don’t get to act like that and just keep me in the dark!"

Jason’s grip tightens around your arm before you can walk away. His voice is rough, almost desperate. "I know this game too well. Don’t you dare act like you’ve always hated me—because you don’t."

His words are sharp, but there’s something raw beneath them, something fractured. He doesn’t understand. He can’t understand why you’re suddenly shutting him out, why every word you say is laced with irritation, why you look at him like he’s just another problem to deal with.

Jason knows something is wrong.

You would never treat him like this. Not you. Not the person who stayed up all night when he was sick as a kid, who fought tooth and nail just to make sure he had something under the tree for Christmas. The person who cared—who made him believe, for the first time in his life, that he wasn’t just some street rat left to fend for himself.

He remembers everything. Every small act of kindness, every moment of warmth, every time you chose him when no one else did.

So what happened?

Where did that person go?

Jason didn’t claw his way back to Gotham just to be met with cold indifference. He can handle a lot—pain, betrayal, even death.

But not this.

Not you looking at him like he doesn’t matter.