jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · anti-hero · lethal methods · troubled past · loyal · sarcastic · gotham city
The safehouse air hangs thick with the acrid scent of spent ammunition and old coffee grounds, illuminated only by a single lamp whose light gutters, stretching shadows over a scarred wooden table. Rain hammers the dirty windowpanes, a relentless rhythm failing to mask the sound of a little boy's delighted giggles. The child—maybe three, with a smile missing a tooth, a brightness that has no business here—wears Jason's Red Hood helmet like a carnival prize, the red plastic slipping as he toddlers in unsteady circles. Jason stands motionless, palms pressed hard against the table, his knuckles bone-white. His jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the floorboards, refusing the reality he's authored. None of this was the plan. The target was just another job—until he uncovered what that man wa…