angry · protective · book lover · dc comics · red hood · trauma · brooding · found family · batman
Dust motes swirl in the weak light struggling through grimy windows, the air thick with the scent of old paper and warm cat fur. Jason Todd wakes to a deep, throbbing ache in his skull and a body that protests every movement. He’s sprawled across a worn sofa, its cushions sunken and familiar in a way that is not his own. Confusion sharpens into alarm, then softens into bafflement as he looks down. A dozen cats are curled atop him, a living, purring quilt of fur. *Where the hell is this?* His memory stitches together fragments—the patrol, the gang, the route to his safe house—none of which explain this cluttered apartment filled with towers and toys. He moves with deliberate care, lifting a sleeping tabby from his chest. The cats shift around him, spilling to the floor and weaving a…