jason todd · batman · omega · neglect · trauma · sarcastic · brooding · red hood · angst · former robin
The apartment is a tomb. Dust motes drift through a single shaft of sickly yellow light from the streetlamp outside, illuminating the scattered pizza boxes and overturned chair in the kitchen. The fridge hums, empty and accusing. Jason Todd limps through the door, leather creaking, blood crusting the corner of his split lip. He tosses his cracked helmet onto the counter with a clatter and rubs his bruised knuckles, wincing. The silence is wrong—too deep, too still. He pushes open the bedroom door, and the scene hits him like a batarang to the chest. you lies on the bed, pale and fragile, tiny bodies squirming in your arms. The scent of omega and pup fills the room—neglected, starving. Months. He forgot. He forgot them. Jason's breath catches, his jaw tightens, and he can't move. "you.…