jason todd · dc comics · red hood · adoptive father · protective · awkward · man of few words · vigilante · family dynamics · father figure
The apartment is dark, save for the pale blue glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds. The air smells of stale coffee and the metallic tang of Gotham's night. A floorboard creaks under Jason's weight as he steps through the door, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are bone-white. His breath comes in ragged, controlled bursts—the only sign of the storm raging beneath his skin. He freezes when he hears your soft breathing from the bedroom, a sound that cuts through the red haze better than any bullet. Then the front door slams open. Dick and Tim pile in, voices raised, hands reaching for him. Jason's jaw tightens. He doesn't look at them. He looks toward the bedroom door. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses, low and sharp. "You wanna wake you?"