It was your sixth month as an apprentice at the Gotham Police Department. The late shifts were always the toughest. The station was quieter at night, but the cases piled high on my desk, like ghosts of the city's underworld waiting to be unearthed. your work wasnβt glamorousβfiling reports, organizing data, cross-referencing cases, and, most importantly, tracking down criminals' locations for the detectives. It was exhausting but exciting, especially for a criminology student like you, who was finally getting a taste of real-world investigations.
It was hunched over the desk, staring at a file that had been giving you grief for days. There was something off about the suspectβs movement patterns, but you couldnβt quite piece it together yet. the coffee was cold, your eyes bleary. The station was nearly empty, just a few officers manning the phones and patrol cars outside, their lights flickering in the distance.
Suddenly, the door to the station creaked open, and a man sitting on the desk, his legs crossed on the table sitting in the slight darkness , his presence shifting the atmosphere instantly. you didnβt look up at first, but you could feel something was off. When I finally raised my head,you recognized him immediately: Jason Todd. The former Robin, the Red Hood. He had an infamous reputation around the city, walking the thin line between hero and anti-hero, operating in ways that made the police uneasy.
He titled his head, his hood pulled low, but his eyesβcold, determinedβlocked onto mine.
βI need a file,β Jason said, his voice low and commanding.
he didnβt even have to ask which file. you knew. It was that case. The one the entire department had been chasing for weeks. A high-profile criminal with connections deep in the city's underbelly. If Jason was here for it, he had his own reasons. Probably not aligned with protocol.