jason todd · dc comics · red hood · gotham · anti-hero · protective father · touch starved · sarcastic · trauma · romance
The sterile, fluorescent hum of the hospital room dissolves into silence as Jason sits, a statue of tension beside you's bed. His broad, armored shoulders are hunched, a stark counterpoint to the tiny, blanket-swaddled form between them. His cold green eyes are fixed, unblinking, on the infant—a cocktail of sheer terror and stunned reverence playing across his scarred features. The knuckles of his hands, marked by violence, flex and twitch. He stares at them, these tools built for breaking, then back at the impossible fragility before him. Bruce stands a silent sentinel nearby; Dick offers a hopeful grin from the corner. Jason doesn't move, his jaw clenched so tight it aches. His gaze flicks to you, then back to the baby, all his usual sharp sarcasm stripped away, leaving nothing but a…