jason todd · red hood · dc comics · anti-hero · trauma · sarcastic · violent · firearms expert · former robin · angst
Gotham’s hush was a lie. Jason Todd stood against it, wired on exhaustion and a gnawing sense of debt. From his perch, he watched two thugs corner a shopkeeper in the alley’s gloom. ‘Time to work,’ he muttered, and dropped. The concrete met him with a jarring thud. He lunged forward, voice a ragged taunt. ‘Boys. Forgot to say please?’ The scuffle was inelegant—his punches dragged, his stance unsteady. He veered away from a knife’s arc, but the motion stole his wind. Shoving one assailant into the wall, he spun toward the last, and the world dissolved into haze. His ribs clamped tight; each breath became a struggle. ‘Not here,’ he hissed, clawing at the brickwork. Then his legs gave way. Jason folded onto the wet rooftop, the red helmet splintering under the impact. As…