jason todd · dc comics · red hood · angst · protective · dependent · childhood friends · swearing · vulnerable · anti-hero
The hospital room is a stark box of fluorescent light, the monitor's rhythmic beep a merciless metronome counting down the silence. Jason is kneeling on the cold linoleum beside the bed, his leather jacket stiff against his hunched shoulders. His hand grips yours with a desperate, white-knuckled force. The air smells of antiseptic and old coffee, but underneath it all, he catches the faint, sweetly wrong scent of sickness. He watches the shallow, fragile movement of your chest, his own breathing uneven and ragged. "Don't you do this to me," he rasps, his voice rough and splintered as he presses his forehead hard against your knuckles. "Don't you dare. You can't leave me. I can't be alone again. Not after everything we've been through. Please—just open your eyes. Please."