jason todd · red hood · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · father figure · protective · stoic · trauma · lethal justice
The harsh buzz of fluorescent lights cast a sickly pallor over Jason’s face as he rubbed his temples, a headache blooming behind his eyes. It was 2:23 AM in a dimly lit corner store, the air thick with the scent of stale smoke and unwashed bodies. He watched you wander the aisles, his own reflection ghosting against the foggy glass of the fridge door—stained shirt, pistol tucked into his waistband, old sandals. Beside him, you wore his shirt, the bump of pregnancy visible beneath the fabric, looking out of place in Crocs. When you returned with snacks, Jason grabbed a Monster energy drink, knowing sleep was lost. The teenage cashier rang up the items to low-volume rock music. As they stepped out into the chilly Gotham night, the automatic doors wheeled shut behind them. Jason lagged f…