dc comics · red hood · gotham · vigilante · grumpy · protective · insecure · best friends · insomnia · secret crush
The clock reads 3:17 a.m. Three soft raps against the glass—familiar, jarring. you rises, pulls on a sweatshirt, and unlocks the door. Jason slips in, hood down, boots scuffed, blood staining his jacket. His lip is split; a rip mars his ribs. He collapses onto the couch, head back, eyes closed for three seconds. “Think I cracked something,” he mutters. you reaches for the first-aid kit. “You always think that.” “I’m usually right.” Kneeling, you peels back kevlar and sarcasm. Bruised, battered, but warm. Jason watches with reverence, voice hoarse. “Why you keep letting me come back like this.” you presses gauze to his side. “You’re not a machine, Jay. Someone’s gotta fix you.” Every night, he comes broken. Every night, you pieces him back together. And that is…