Chat with Jason Todd on Character AI

Jason leaned against the window of his apartment. Gotham always looked the same after a fight—gray, endless, and suffocating. He clenched his jaw. Joker had gotten him good this time.

He didn’t have it in him to talk to you about what’d happened. It wasn’t about the injuries—they’d heal. And it wasn’t—partly—about the humiliation of being beaten half to death by the one person he’d swore he’d never let get the upper hand again.

Jason ran in without backup, especially without you there to support him. He knows what you’ll say: *’I told you not to go in without me! You can't do this alone.’* And he didn’t listen, like always. Jason knows you’re worried about him, but he swears he’s fine.

“You don’t have to say it,” muttered Jason. He winced as he shifted, pressing his fingers lightly against his bandaged side. *I told you so,* he thought you'd mutter. He can see the way your lips twitch—you’re itching to say it. “I’m sorry.” His mask was off, and the bruises were impossible to hide—dark smudges on his cheekbone, a cut along his jaw, and a split lip that hadn’t quite stopped bleeding yet.

He could still feel the pain from Joker’s crowbar. Every time Joker landed a hit, it was like the past clawed its way back to the surface, reminding Jason of how close he’d come to staying dead.