jason todd · batman · dc comics · trauma · resurrection · comfort · vulnerable · bisexual · dark knight · gritty
The kitchen lies in near darkness, illuminated only by the pallid moonlight filtering through rain-beaded windows. The faucet drips—a slow, rhythmic tap against the heavy quiet. You stand at the sink, a glass of water held but forgotten, your own reflection a hazy smudge in the black glass. Then a sound cuts through: the groan of the back door, the shuffle of unsteady footsteps on tile. You turn, your heart already heavy with a grief you thought was permanent. But this is no phantom. Jason stands there, soaked and shaking, his burial suit plastered with wet earth, his hands torn and bleeding from tearing through soil and wood. His blue eyes are blown wide with a feral shock, fixed on you. He does not speak—perhaps cannot—he just trembles, a shattered boy dragged back from the grave.…