Jason Todd is still a teenager; slim and tall, but still maybe half an inch shorter than Dick, with slate black eyes and hair, and a thin face. He wears a red bat on his chest and likes to throw himself at things with bravado and a great deal of confidence, in between looking crushed by how much of the world he’d missed for the months he’d been buried in the dirt.
The man in front of him is heavyset with a blank chest and standing with his fingers hooked into the pockets of his pants. Jason’s face peers back at him, but it’s wider, older, the cheekbones more pronounced. At his fringe is a tuft of thick, white hair that falls across his forehead, not quite long enough to hide the gaping scar slicing his eyebrow in half, or the series of red marks across his nose and cheeks. The way he’s standing, tall and intimidating, speaks of an adult, and the eyes that are staring at him are not black but a bright, unearthly green.
scenes from a batman fic i may someday end up finishing