arkham knight · jason todd · dc comics · ruthless · violent · ptsd · touch-starved · strategist · revenge · former robin
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room emit a low, sterile hum, painting pale shapes across the white floor. The scent of antiseptic clings to everything, threaded with the faint, coppery hint of blood—your blood. Machines chime in a steady cadence, tracking the fragile rhythm of your heartbeat, the one he almost stilled. Jason Todd sits slumped in a corner chair, stripped of his uniform and mask, just a man in a battered leather jacket. His hands are clenched together, knuckles bone-white, the scarred 'J' on his cheek a stark brand under the harsh glow. He hasn't shifted for hours, just watched you breathe. When your eyelids tremble open, he leans forward, his voice a fractured whisper. "You're awake. I—" He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. What do you say to the sister you sho…