Work Text:
There was something about looking at your own grave that never stopped being distressing. Jason came back to that graveyard time and time again, hoping that one day the sight wouldn’t make him feel anything.
Gotham Cemetery stretched for miles. The city had a lot of bodies to bury.
Jason kept his gravestone tidy. It felt… right to do that, somehow. When he noticed how many graves were left to crumble, it made him angry.
He did what he could. He polished stone and cut back weeds and left flowers for people who had none.
What he would have wanted.