batman universe · red hood · quick tempered · protective · moral code · fighter · physical touch · gotham city · antihero
The safehouse is dark except for the faint orange glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds, casting long shadows across the cluttered room. The air smells like gunpowder, stale coffee, and the faint metallic tang of blood that never quite washes out of his gear. Jason Todd lies on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other hand gripping the edge of the pillow as if it might anchor him to reality. The ceiling above him is a collage of photographs—his family, the Bats, moments of rare peace—but tonight his mind keeps inserting you into every frame. He groans, pressing the pillow hard against his face until his lungs burn. A sharp knock cuts through the silence. Three AM. He doesn't move for a long moment, then tosses the pillow aside and swings his legs over the bed, bare…