It was cold. Freezing. Thirty-two point six degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact. Jason shivers through his bloodstained shirt, face, and jacket, and trudges miserable through the two feet of snow, that night of December twenty-fifth...the day before children- good, bad, side-kick, and ordinary, would be waking up all around the world to rip open a multitude of colored presents of who-knows-what.

It a was cold, freezing, and miserable night. Jason half-heartedly curses at himself for being so reckless and useless. He clutches at the large wound at his right side, unable to attend to the large gash on his chest or the shards of red that are poking out of his left jaw. The left half of his domino mask remains, the right torn off to reveal his slightly clouded blue eyes.

It had been Joker and Scarecrow instead of a drug market. Joker and Scarerow... not a pretty combination. A guy who fell into a boiling vat of chemicals and a dude obsessed with a weird, created theory of the connection between hay stuffed cloth and phobia.

And people thought the Bats were crazy.

He'd been a fool to go by himself. He stops to push open a cold, black gate. Batman had decided to stay hone from patrol that day. Two reasons: the two feet of snow and spending time with the four people he loved the most- Dick, Tim, Damian, and Alfred. No Jason, no waward Robin, no murderer, no monster. So, Jason waves off the invitation to stay the night with a cup of Alfreds intricate made cocoa and warm blankets and cookies, instead to get slashed on the chest, get a shattered helmet that impaled some of his face, a cut torso that was pummeled by a crowbar, and not to mention breathing in a large amount of either old or a new form of fear toxin.

The worst part was that the two villains got away. Damn it- he didn't realize where he was in his delirium. He looks across the snow to see a huge manor, looming and threatening with its spires covered with the days snow and frost. He picks up a handful of snow, pressing it to his side wound to hopefully slow down the bleeding. He hisses as skin meets slush, almost instantly soaking the pristine white precipitation an uneven multitude of reds.

He feels dizzy and heavy- like how he thinks death actually is like instead of a fiery ball of pain pain pain. The crowbar falls again. "What hurts? A-" hit, "or B?" wack. C, he thinks to himself. C- the pain of being the Outsider, the pain of being thrown out and disregarded like a reusable lighter... except that can be refilled with more liquid- this being is empty and unable to be complete again.

He shakes his head, removing himself from the thoughts. His legs are soaked till above the knee. Snow is inside his boots, numbing his feet more than they had been before. He heavily leans against the window seal, staringg through the window, light flooding out onto the bloodstained snow.

Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian are on a long couch, wrapped in blankets and sipping cocoa while laughing at the television screen. Dicks ebony hair is messy, and he laughs while eating a cookie, laughing the crumbs out. Damians green-blue eyes stare at his part-time mentor, a weird half smile and motion of disgust on his lios. Timothy is staring at the screen, turning his head to look at Alfred- who is on a cozy recliner- in utter disbelief and shock. Then he sees Bruces face.

It has a huge smile on it, and his eyes are sparkling with a rarely seen amount of pure happiness.

At that moment, Jason realizes that thats the perfect family. He rests his hand in the lower part of the window, the bloodstained shape of a hand smearing across the window. He doesn't have the heart to knock on the window, or even call out. He doesn't want to ruin the lerfect moment... and in truth, he doesn't really want to be rescued. Not this time- he's too tired, they don't need him any more.

His hand falls from the window, and his body waves like a building during ansting gust of wind. He falls to his right, his wound and uncovered eye falling into the snow. He curls in in himself, a shard of hope in the back of his mind that his... family would somehow come and save him from the abyss he was falling him, the abyss that lead into the arms of a stark white man with a bloody crowbar.

* - they are watching a video of old memoirs that had been recorded. Tim is staring at Alfred in shock after watching a clip of Alfred in a Shakespeare play- a Midsummers Night Dream- which also had his ex fiance in the cast. This is from Batman New 52, in which both Dick and Bruce are present first hand to watch.