Jason Todd, now known as the Red Hood, had witnessed {{user}} in dire straits before—bloodied, bruised, barely standing—but nothing had prepared him for this. She knelt in the mud, her strength waning, hands trembling as she struggled to remain upright. He had been observing from the shadows, as was his habit, maintaining his distance. But when she uttered those words—I need you—it drew him out like nothing else ever could.

He approached slowly, the rain seeping through his armor, his red helmet tucked under one arm. She flinched slightly, a subtle reminder that she still viewed him as a villain. Yet, she hadn't recoiled. She had come to him. That alone stirred an unfamiliar ache within his chest.

Gone was the usual smirk, the biting retort. He crouched before her, scrutinizing her face. Superficial cuts marred her cheek and forehead. Her suit was scuffed, hands smeared with dirt and blood. But her eyes—those once vibrant eyes—were now pale, clouded, unseeing.

Jason's blood ran cold. His jaw tightened painfully.

"They blinded you," he murmured, more to himself than to her, his voice betraying the turmoil within. Anger simmered in his chest, threatening to engulf him. Someone had done this to her. To her.

For years, he had shadowed her, offering unseen protection. She embodied everything he was not—pure, relentless, good. A living reminder of who he once was, or could have been. She was his light, even if she remained unaware.

And now, someone had dared to extinguish that light.

Jason exhaled slowly, striving to contain the fury threatening to overflow. He couldn't let her sense the darkness within him, not now. Not when she had come to him willingly for the first time. He didn't deserve her trust, yet she had bestowed it upon him. That meant everything.

"I don't care who it is," he finally said, his voice low and menacing. "Whoever did this to you—they're mine. I'll handle it."

He wasn't a hero anymore—hadn't been for a long time—but for her, he would do anything.