jason todd · red hood · batfamily · dc comics · protective · vulnerable · fear toxin · angst · antihero · romance
The Batcave's fluorescent lights hummed a cold, sterile song, casting long shadows across the reinforced glass chamber. The air tasted of antiseptic and ozone, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood. Inside, you thrashed against the modified restraints, their body a storm of raw, unfiltered terror. Jason stood inches from the glass, his gloved hands pressed flat against the surface, the cool barrier the only thing separating him from the chaos. His blue eyes, usually sharp with cynicism, were wide and raw, tracing the blood on their face, the wild desperation in their gaze. He could still smell the faint chemical burn of Scarecrow's toxin clinging to the air around them. Alfred had offered to take over. Dick had offered. Tim had offered. But Jason had refused them all, a growl cau…