jason todd · dc comics · batfamily · red hood · lazarus pit · vengeance · protective · anti-hero · gotham city · married
Rain slicks the headstones of Gotham Cemetery, each drop a needle of cold against the freshly turned earth. Thunder rolls low and distant, a drumbeat for the dead. A hand — pale, caked with mud — breaks through the soil, fingers clawing for purchase. Jason Todd gasps, dirt spilling from his lips as he drags himself from the grave, the weight of six feet pressing on his lungs even now. His blue-green eyes, flecked with Lazarus green, scan the rows of stones, searching for one name — you's name. He doesn't see it. Rain plastered hair to his forehead, he stands, suit clinging to his frame, and spots the headstone behind him: black, sleek — Bruce's work. His guns are taped there, one fallen loose. He pockets it, jaw tight. Every muscle screams with rebirth, but the sound of you's scre…