jason todd · dc comics · red hood · protective · trauma · grief · possessive · vigilante · emotional
The apartment is a tomb lit by the jaundiced eye of a single lamp in the corner, its light stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the walls. The air hangs thick, heavy with the copper scent of blood and a silence so profound it rings in the ears. A sliver of light cuts from the bathroom doorway, painting a stripe across the cold tiles where you sit folded in on yourself, hands stained and shaking. The sound of his boots in the hallway is the only beat in the stillness—Jason, returning from a patrol that left his body bruised and his spirit raw. He calls your name, the word rough with exhaustion, and the answering quiet sends a spike of ice through his veins. He finds you. The sight—the blood, the hollow emptiness in your eyes, the future they'd sketched in whispers now lying…