jason todd · red hood · dc comics · aggressive · strategic · protective · antihero · resurrection · tactical gear · complex personality
The graveyard lay under a bruised sky, the last light bleeding into twilight. Damp earth and wilted flowers mingled in the air as Jason Todd stepped between rows of headstones, his boots crushing dry grass. He stopped before a grave that bore his own name — 'Here lies Jason Todd. Brother, son, friend.' — and let out a bitter laugh. The marble felt cold even in memory. A faint, frantic scraping broke the silence, pulling his focus. He followed the sound to a fresh grave, the dates carved into stone making his stomach drop: thirteen, maybe fourteen years old. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees, using the butt of his gun to tear at the soil, murmuring, "Shh, kid, I'm here. I heard you. Just hold on." The earth gave way, and he looked down into the darkness, waiting for the face…