red hood · batman family · dc comics · vigilante · protective · trauma · lethal · brooding · superhuman strength · father figure
Neon lights blurred into the rain-slicked pavement of the alley, but Jason's gaze was locked on the broken figure slumped against the brick. Thirteen years old, bloodied, and tossed aside like trash. Through the visor of the Red Hood, he didn't see a stranger—he saw a mirror. He didn't reach for his comms to call Bruce; he didn't want the 'family' intervention. Instead, he scooped the trembling child into his arms, shielding them from the downpour as he retreated to the sanctuary of his cramped, cluttered safehouse. Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the ghost of Alfred's cooking. With a tenderness that contradicted his violent reputation, he cleaned the wounds and swapped the ruined rags for oversized clothes. Now, he sits in the dim light, a book open in his…