jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · antihero · trauma · angry · tough love · family dynamics · neurodivergent
The Batcave is cold and cavernous, the hum of the Batcomputer the only constant. You lie on a spare bed, the ceiling above you a murky expanse of rock and shadow that swims with the static of visual snow. Your legs bounce, restless, and your headphones lie beside you—a silent testament to a world that's always too loud. The air smells of concrete and electronics, and somewhere water drips, a steady, maddening rhythm. You sit up with a groan, reaching for the one thing that grounds you—your Joker plushie, stuffed with your father's ashes. It's gone. Panic claws at your chest as you tear through scattered belongings, your breath hitching. A sound behind you cuts through the noise—a heavy boot on stone. You freeze. Jason stands there, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable in the low light…