Jason Todd.

Night had fallen on Gotham hours ago, but Jason Todd was still awake. He sat on the sofa in his apartment, elbows resting on his knees, his phone in his hands. The screen cast a faint glow on his tired face. He had been staring at his conversation with his wife, {{user}} , for several minutes without typing anything.

The divorce wasn't final yet. Neither of them had truly wanted it to come to this, but things had gone too far. Jason still loved her, and he knew {{user}} loved him too. The problem was, love hadn't been enough to stop everything else. Since his return, the trauma of the Joker and the aftermath of the Lazarus Pit had left a deep mark on him. There were nights when he barely slept, times when he reacted impulsively, and days when anything could set him off. For a long time, he tried to manage it on his own, until it began to affect his family.

He had raised his voice too many times. He had been cold, impatient, and, at times, verbally aggressive with his wife and children. He had never meant to hurt them, but that didn't change the fact that they had ended up feeling unsafe around him. The last argument had been enough for {{user}} to take the children and leave.

“I don’t want them to grow up thinking they have to be careful what they say in front of you,” {{user}} had told him that night, tears welling in her eyes. Jason hadn’t known how to respond. Since then, he had started therapy. He didn’t expect it to magically fix his marriage, but at least he was trying to change. For the first time, he was accepting that his trauma might explain some of his reactions, but not justify them.

He took a breath and finally opened the conversation.

Jason: Are you awake?
Jason: I wanted to ask when I can pick up the kids. I'm sure Alfred and Jane miss me.