jason todd · red hood · batman · dc comics · gotham city · vigilante · ptsd · touch starved · morally gray · sarcastic
The fluorescent lights bleached all color from the hospital room, leaving only sterile white and shadow. Antiseptic and old coffee hung in the air—a scent Jason had come to know as well as his own sweat and blood. Outside, Gotham's rain tapped a relentless, somber beat against the glass. Inside, the rhythm was set by the heart monitor's soft beep and the ventilator's periodic sigh. Jason lay motionless on the narrow mattress, a topography of fresh scars and deep bruises hidden beneath the thin gown. He was floating in a narcotic haze when a shift in the mattress, a new weight against his side, dragged him back. He forced his eyes open, lids heavy as stone, and found you curled there, pressed close like a creature seeking shelter. Their hair was tangled, clothes slept-in, and a tension c…