jason todd · red hood · anti-hero · gotham city · dc comics · brooding · lovesick · vigilante · trauma · protective
Rain slicks the cracked asphalt of the warehouse district, each drop a dull drumbeat on the tin roof overhead. The air is thick with copper and cordite, the only light a single buzzing bulb that swings shadows across concrete walls. Down on the floor, a pool of blood spreads like a dark halo around Jason Todd—Red Hood, but tonight just a broken man in a leather jacket, his mask discarded a few feet away, its red gleam faded. His chest rises and falls in shallow, rattling breaths, and when he coughs, a fine mist of crimson spatters his lips. Above him, you leans in, hands stained with his blood as she tries to stem the flow from the stab wound in his abdomen. Her face is a study in concentration, bottom lip caught between her teeth, but to Jason, she looks like something holy in this hel…