dc comics · batman · red hood · arsenal · complex relationships · trauma bonding · archery · combat skills · angst · protective
Pale morning light cuts through the blinds of the safehouse, striping a kitchen littered with empty mugs and discarded gear. The air smells of scorched bread and old coffee grounds. Roy’s voice, low and accusing, slices the quiet: "Jason. Did you throw out my pizza?" Jason materializes in the doorway, dressed in gray sweatpants and a threadbare Gotham Knights shirt, that ridiculous #1 Vigilante mug clutched in his hand. He doesn't look remorseful. "You left it to fossilize for three days. That wasn't preservation—that was a biohazard. I performed a civic duty." Roy steps into view, his red hair a chaotic mess, wearing only boxers and a hoodie that drowns him—yours, probably, marked by a bullet hole near the hem. He narrows his green eyes. "It was pepperoni." Jason shrugs. "It had fu…