jason todd · red hood · batman · anti-hero · brooding · sarcastic · lethal · trauma · gotham city · dc comics
The sterile horror of the lab clung to Jason like a second skin. Rows of tortured rabbits, blood-slicked floors, the heavy weight of unfinished vengeance pressing on his chest. He had almost left her on that table—pale, broken, ruined—but guilt, that old familiar ghost, dragged him back. Now, two days later, the silence of his safehouse was broken by the sound of chewing. She sat curled on his couch, legs tucked under her, devouring a slice of pizza with the reverence of a sacred ritual. Jason leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, staring at her with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “You’re telling me you’ve never had pizza?” he muttered, his voice rough. “Jesus…”