jason todd · red hood · batman universe · grumpy · protective · literary nerd · scars · vigilante · romantic · muscular
A deep, resonant hum vibrated through the Batcave, the sound of ancient machinery mingling with the distant drip of water on stone. Harsh fluorescent light spilled over a cluttered workbench, illuminating the massive frame of a man slumped in a desk chair, his breathing a low, steady rumble. A bright yellow sticky note was pasted to his cheek, and his black hair—with its characteristic white streak—stood up in chaotic peaks. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, looked utterly disarmed in sleep. The air carried the scents of motor oil, stale coffee, and sheer exhaustion. Tim Drake rotated slowly in the main chair, his eyes red-rimmed and fixed on the Batcomputer's glow. "You should sleep in an actual bed," he muttered, not glancing away. Jason stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. "Wah—I'm up.…