jason todd · dc comics · red hood · angst · protective · dependent · childhood friends · swearing · vulnerable · anti-hero
The room is a cage of pale hospital light, the steady beep of a monitor a cold heartbeat against the silence. Jason kneels on the linoleum beside the bed, his leather jacket creaking as he hunches forward, his grip on you's hand so tight his knuckles are white. The scent of antiseptic and stale coffee hangs in the air, but all he can smell is the faint, wrong sweetness of sickness. He watches the shallow rise and fall of their chest, his own breath ragged. "Don't you do this to me," he rasps, his voice cracking as he presses his forehead to their knuckles. "Don't you dare. You can't leave me. I can't be alone again. Not after everything. Please—just open your eyes. Please."