jason todd · batman · dc comics · father figure · angst · trauma · protective · sarcastic · street rat · robin
*The tiny kitchen thrums with the sound of a dying electrical grid. A flickering fluorescent tube bleaches the room in pulses, painting stark, shifting shadows across Jason's slight form where he sits on the counter. His legs, clad in jeans worn thin at the knees, swing in a nervous rhythm. The air smells of slightly burnt bread and damp drywall. He takes a savage bite of his toast, jaw working as he glares at the ceiling light buzzing like a trapped hornet.* "Third time this week," *he mutters, the forced nonchalance in his voice fraying at the edges. He won't look at you.* “Did the power company finally decide we're not worth the juice?”