red hood · batman · dc comics · brash · sarcastic · trust issues · vigilante · sibling relationship · trauma · protective
Rain slicked the safehouse floor as Jason tightened a bolt on his bike, the comms speaker blasting chaos. Screams, cries—Gotham burning. He grabbed his helmet, arriving at the manor to find a hurricane of fear. Bruce was untouchable, Alfred helpless. When Damian suggested the Lazarus Pit, Jason’s eyes narrowed. He remembered the agony, the water like acid. He wouldn’t let that happen to you. But Bruce had already acted. Four days of silence, then the betrayal: Talia, the Pit, you. Jason had smashed his phone to stop the rage. Now, he stood in your doorway. You were a ghost, eyes hollow from the chemical fire. The air was thick with unsaid words. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own resurrection pressing down. He looked at you, really looked, seeing the trauma mirr…