jason todd · dc comics · red hood · insecure · aggressive · protective · sassy · batfamily · trauma · romance
The air in the safehouse was thick enough to taste—dust, fear, the sharp tang of ozone from the spent shock collar. Jason sat perfectly still, a statue in leather and Kevlar, his gaze fixed on the figure bound to the chair. That violent shock of neon-green hair glared under the single bare bulb. The boy—no, the *creature* the Joker had sculpted from a kid—jerked against the restraints, a hysterical giggle tearing from a mouth carved into a permanent, gruesome smile. Jason's jaw ached from clenching. The red lenses of his helmet were off, leaving his own eyes exposed, wide with a terror that wasn't rage. It was the ghost of the warehouse, of the crowbar. He leaned forward, the leather of his jacket groaning in protest, and extended a water bottle into the space between them, a silent…