The sun was warm against Jason's skin as he sat on the soft grass, watching Dick and Jake kick a soccer ball back and forth. Laughter filled the air, blending with the rustling leaves and the distant hum of the city beyond the park.
He turned toward Barbara, who was lounging on a picnic blanket with a book in her hands, her red hair catching the sunlight.
"You know," Jason said, resting his arms on his knees, "when I first found out you were pregnant, I couldn't believe it. And Dick? A father? I didn't think it was possible. But looking back… it makes sense. He always looked out for us when Mom and Dad were too busy."
Barbara lowered her book and smiled. "Yeah, he told me about that. Said that from the moment he met you, after Bruce adopted you, he just had this instinct to protect you. And when he held Jake for the first time, his eyes just… sparkled."
Jason chuckled, nodding at the memory. "I remember that. But you should've seen him outside the delivery room—he was a mess. Pacing back and forth, wearing a hole in the floor. It was so annoying. I finally snapped, shoved him into a chair, and told him to calm the hell down."
Barbara and Tim, who had been listening nearby, burst out laughing.
"Yeah, that sounds like him," Tim said, shaking his head.
Jason smirked but suddenly tensed. A sharp, uneasy feeling crawled up his spine. He sat up straighter, eyes scanning the park. Something wasn't right.
Tim noticed the shift in Jason's posture and frowned. "Yo, Jay. You good?"
Jason exhaled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I just got a bad feeling. Probably nothing."
But that feeling didn't fade. It got worse.
He turned back toward Dick and Jake, and that's when he saw him—
A man in a dark hoodie approaching them, moving with purpose.
Jason's blood ran cold.
The man stopped just a few feet away from Dick and called out, "Detective Grayson!"
Dick turned, instinctively pushing Jake back toward Barbara. "Yeah?"
The hooded man smirked, slipping his hand into his pocket. "Hammerhead sends his regards."
Before Dick could react, the man lunged—
A flash of silver.
Steel plunged into flesh.
Dick let out a choked gasp, blood bubbling from his lips as the knife stabbed into him again. And again. And again.
Six times.
Jason shot to his feet, his stomach twisting in horror.
"DICCCKKKK!" He screamed, sprinting forward.
But before he could reach him, gunfire erupted from the trees.
Barbara's screams ripped through the air.
Tim was hit first, a bullet tearing through his shoulder as he collapsed backward.
Barbara tried to shield Jake, but another shot rang out.
She crumpled to the ground.
Jason spun around, heart pounding, and saw three armed men stepping out from the woods, rifles raised.
His head whipped back to Dick—his older brother, his protector—who was now on his knees, bleeding out.
Standing over him was the hooded man.
Only now, Jason could see his face.
Pale skin, sharp teeth. A monstrous grin.
The man pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Jason.
"Nothing personal," he said. "Just business."
Then he pulled the trigger.
Jason felt the impact before he heard the shots. The first bullet punched into his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. The second and third followed, sending him crashing to the ground, pain searing through him.
His vision blurred, his body screaming in agony, but he forced himself to look up.
Dick was still alive. Barely.
He was trying—crawling—desperate to reach Jake, who was sobbing on the grass.
Jason wanted to move. Needed to move. But his body refused to listen.
The pale man placed his boot against Dick's back, forcing him down.
"You're still alive?" he mused, cocking his gun. "Can't have that."
Dick turned his head, locking eyes with Jason one last time.
And with his final breath, he whispered:
"Now and always."
The gun fired.
Blood sprayed across the grass.
Dick's body went limp.
Jason screamed. "NOOOOOO!"
Jake, tears streaming down his little face, ran to his father, shaking him desperately.
"Dad, no! Wake up!"
A shadow loomed over him.
The pale man grabbed Jake by the collar, effortlessly lifting him off the ground.
Jason's entire body burned with adrenaline as he tried to push himself up.
"Please," he begged, voice ragged. "Take me instead. Just—just let him go. Please!"
Jake sobbed, his tiny hands clawing at the man's grip. "Uncle Jason! Help me!"
Jason's heart shattered.
Then, with a sickening crack, the man snapped Jake's neck.
Jason's breath caught. His mind refused to process it.
Jake's lifeless body hit the ground, his small frame twisted unnaturally.
Silence filled the park.
Everything slowed.
Jason stared at the tiny corpse of his nephew, of the little boy who had once called him "Uncle Jay," who had once sat on his shoulders and laughed, who had once fallen asleep in his arms.
Gone.
Rage consumed him.
Tears streaked his face as he turned his murderous glare toward the pale man.
Through gritted teeth, Jason hissed, "I swear to God, I will kill you. You should've killed me, because I will find you. And I will make you suffer."
The pale man just laughed.
"You got guts, I'll give you that," he said. "The name's Tombstone. Because that's where you'll be soon."
Then, with one final stomp to Jason's face, darkness swallowed him whole.