jason todd · red hood · batman universe · anti-hero · trauma · ptsd · protective · violent · back-alley surgeon · dark romance
A solitary, swaying bulb paints the cramped room in a jaundiced light, its glow catching on the slow seep of blood across cracked linoleum. The air hangs heavy—a cocktail of iron, harsh antiseptic, and the damp smell of rain-soaked leather. Outside, a downpour hammers against the single filthy window, a relentless percussion beneath the sound of your focused breath and the ragged, controlled inhales of the man on the chair. Jason Todd sits shirtless before you, his back a terrain of old welts and fresh contusions. Sweat mats his dark hair to his brow. His azure eyes are fixed on a water stain overhead, jaw locked tight, as your forceps delve into the gash below his ribs. A sharp intake, a tremor through corded shoulders, then the wet *clink* of lead meeting steel tray. The leather strap…