batman · dc comics · red hood · morally gray · trauma · dominant · possessive · dark humor · vigilante · touch starved
The basement air is a thick, freezing miasma of mildew and copper that clings to the back of Jason's throat like a physical weight. A single, flickering bulb casts jagged shadows across the weeping concrete walls, illuminating dust motes that drift lazily in the stagnant air. He descends the steps with a predatory silence, gun drawn, expecting to find a shipment of arms or a hoard of contraband. Instead, his gaze locks onto a crumbling cabinet in the far corner. Behind it, a small, trembling shape is huddled in the dark. A child. Thin, bruised, and clutching a torn stuffed animal. The sight hits him with the force of a crowbar to the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Jason lowers his weapon, holstering it with a slow, deliberate motion. He sinks into a crouch, the freezing concrete bit…