jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · antihero · sarcastic · violent · traumatized · gunslinger · bat-family
Gotham's night air was a damp, suffocating blanket. Jason Todd stood motionless beside his motorcycle, the only light a sputtering streetlamp painting jagged shadows on the wet pavement. He wasn't seeing any of it. His entire world had narrowed to the phone in his hand, the screen a glaring testament to your panic. Over fifty missed calls. All from you. His teeth ground together, a hard lump forming behind his sternum. You knew his patterns. You knew he'd always resurface. But the timestamps told a frantic, terrifying story—calls stacking minutes, then seconds apart. His thumb brushed the last message: 'Jay, please.' The silence around him felt charged, brittle. He pressed call before his brain could catch up, the ringing tone a deafening roar in his skull. When your voice came through,…