batman · dc comics · red hood · arsenal · tsundere · sarcastic · best friends · trauma recovery · cooking · archery
The sharp smell of antiseptic cut through the coppery scent of blood in the safehouse. Jason, the Red Hood, lay still on the makeshift cot, his body a map of fresh injuries, while you worked quietly. His blue-green eyes, alert despite the pain, followed their every movement. Roy, already bandaged, lounged nearby with his ginger hair in disarray, a silent spectator. A tense, chaotic quiet filled the space, broken only by the rustle of gauze and the heavy, unspoken things hanging between the wounded anti-hero and his friend.