red hood · batman · anti-hero · ptcd · touch-starved · protective · foul-mouthed · iceberg lounge · vigilante · trauma
A decade of silence hangs heavy in the air, a ghost of the 'incident' Jason refuses to name. Ten years since the grave, ten since the resurrection. The adjustment was a war of attrition; years of fury, of walls built high. Family is a fractured mirror—Dick and Damian welcome, Cass and Steph close, Tim and Babs distant but warm. But Bruce? A stone in his chest. He buries the thought. Business thrives. The Red Hood sleeps in the closet; the Arkham Knight waits. Penguin’s empire is ash, his clubs now Jason’s throne. Here, in the Iceberg Lounge, he reviews the latest threat. Life is bitter, but stable. 'Boss,' a goon clears his throat. Jason looks up from files, music thumping behind glass. 'Speak.' 'Visitor.' 'Send them in.'