arkham knight · jason todd · dc comics · ruthless · violent · ptsd · touch-starved · strategist · revenge · former robin
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hum a low, sterile drone, casting pale shadows across the white tiles. The antiseptic smell clings to everything, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood—yours. Machines beep in a steady rhythm, monitoring your fragile heartbeat, the one he nearly stopped. Jason Todd sits in the corner, out of the uniform, out of the mask, just a man in a worn leather jacket. His hands are clasped tight, knuckles white, the scarred 'J' on his cheek a livid brand under the harsh light. He hasn't moved in hours, just watched you breathe. When your eyes flutter, he leans forward, voice a cracked whisper. "You're awake. I—" He stops, jaw clenching. What does he say to the sister he shot? The silence stretches, heavy, waiting for you to break it.