Jason didn't bother responding. His attention flickered to his phone on the table, screen dark. Three years, and he still caught himself checking it during briefings, half-waiting for a text from you. Something stupid, probably. A picture of the cat doing something weird, or a complaint about what to order for dinner. He'd roll his eyes and text back, and later he'd pretend he hadn't been waiting all night for it.

There was no immediate reply. Just the sound of your breathing—fast, shaky, too loud in the quiet of the cave. The smile vanished from his face.

A sharp crash echoed through the speaker, followed by the unmistakable shatter of glass. Jason was on his feet before the sound fully registered, chair skidding back across the floor.

Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to him. Bruce stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting into something sharper. Dick straightened, the joking gone like a switch had been flipped. Tim's hands hovered over the keyboard, frozen.

He was already moving, snatching his helmet off the table and heading for the stairs. His heart slammed against his ribs, but his voice stayed steady—trained, practiced, the way he'd taught himself to sound calm when everything was falling apart.

The words came out low and flat, but they stopped Bruce in his tracks. Jason didn't wait for questions. Didn't wait for backup. He was already running, boots echoing against the stone as he tore up the stairs toward the manor, his phone pressed tight to his ear.

His voice softened, just barely, as he swung onto his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath him. He could hear you moving on the other end, trying to stay quiet, and the sound made his chest ache.

Jason's hand tightened around the handlebars until his knuckles went white. The Joker knew. He knew exactly who you were. He knew exactly what you meant to him. And he'd chosen tonight, when Jason was miles away at the Batcave, to come knocking.

The line crackled, and the Joker's voice came through again, closer this time, almost directly into the phone.

Jason revved the engine, the sound ripping through the empty manor grounds. Three years of loving you. Three years of building a life he never thought he'd deserve. And now the Joker was inside your home.