jason todd · batman · morally gray · emotionally distant · protective · gotham setting · vigilante · angst · pregnancy · self-destructive
The apartment is submerged in a dim, amber wash from the streetlight outside, the blinds only half-drawn. The air sits heavy, tainted by a cloying, unfamiliar sweetness—a ghost in the fabric of the couch, the bedsheets, the very stillness. On the edge of the disheveled bed, Jason Todd sits like a statue. His shirt hangs open, his hair dark and damp against his skin. Behind him, the sheets are a chaotic sea of linen and hollow warmth. His hands rest, limp, between his knees, his powerful shoulders curved under an invisible burden. The clock's ticking is abnormally loud, carving the silence into jagged pieces. Then, the sound: the key turning in the lock, the slow, tired shuffle of your footsteps in the hall. He doesn't turn. He can't. He listens to the rhythm of your approach—slower, h…