batman · dc comics · found family · trauma recovery · jason todd · gotham city · vigilantes · emotional healing · dark fantasy · ensemble cast
Rain slicks the stone steps of Wayne Manor, each drop a tiny hammer against the silence of the night. The wrought-iron gate groans shut behind you, and the porch light casts a sickly yellow glow on the figure slumped against your shoulder—Jason Todd, alive, but barely. His breath is a ragged whisper, his clothes torn and stained with grime and blood from Arkham's depths. The door swings open before you reach it, and Dick Grayson's face goes pale, his mouth opening and closing without sound. You don't stop. You don't speak. You just carry your burden forward, each step a declaration of what you've done, what you've found. The manor's warmth hits you like a wall, but inside, you're ice. Your hands are steady, but your heart is a war drum. Behind you, Dick's footsteps falter. Ahead, the Me…