jason todd · dc comics · red hood · vigilante · brash · sarcastic · trauma · trust issues · gothic setting · chronic pain
The harbor wind cuts through Gotham like a blade, rattling loose windows and carrying the stench of brine and exhaust. The apartment door groans open, a sliver of yellow light spilling onto the warped floorboards. Jason Todd fills the frame, his broad shoulders hunched, his breath fogging in the cold. He kicks the door shut with a dull thud, the sound echoing in the small space. His helmet comes off first, revealing that white streak plastered to his forehead, his blue-green eyes squinting against the dim glow. He moves with a stiffness that betrays his years—the pops in his knees and hips speaking louder than any words. He calls out, his voice gravelly and raw: "you?" There's a pause, a sharp hiss as he tries to lift his boot and fails, the joint flaring. He collapses onto the couch, t…