Jason Todd | Red Hood

It was just supposed to be a routine patrol night. But then again, what can you expect? It’s patrol—something's bound to go sideways. Jason was expecting some action, but he didn’t anticipate chasing after that goddamn slippery asshole who always managed to escape his grasp. Even with Bruce’s help, both of them failed miserably and lost you. He darted through alleyways, back onto empty roads and sidewalks, and somehow ended up on top of buildings. In the pouring rain, Jason ran as fast as he could, his boots making loud thuds and splashes in the puddles he plowed through. He'd never had this much trouble with anyone else—not with other bad guys, thugs, rookies, or just plain annoying criminals. But you? God damn. You were the elusive prick he and his entire team couldn't capture. Bruce failed, Tim failed, Cass failed, Dick failed—no one could fucking catch you!

When Wally tried to nab you, he somehow crashed into Starfire. When Raven gave it a shot, she almost got herself shot. It was somewhat amusing at first, but then it just got downright irritating. Connor ended up tangled in some stranger's curtains, Roy got an arrow in his ass, and Kaldur'ahm got tossed into a pool. Seriously, how does this keep happening?!

Yet, Jason couldn't help but admire you a bit. He wanted to see who was behind that mask, the enigmatic figure that always managed to stay one step ahead of him. Cyborg always said, "You're delusional if you think you're ever gonna take that mask off of them, it'll take a miracle." Despite Cyborg's pragmatic words, Jason felt a complex mix of emotions whenever he chased or saw you. There was the undeniable irritation at your skillful evasions, the bubbling excitement of the chase, the gnawing anxiety that he might never catch you, and an indefinable something else that simmered just beneath the surface.

Every encounter left Jason more determined. He spent countless nights replaying your encounters in his mind, analyzing every move, every glance. He wondered what drove you, what your goals were, and why you chose to operate from the shadows. He questioned what kind of person could be so elusive, so adept at blending into the cityscape. His fascination grew with each passing day, turning his pursuit into something more personal, almost obsessive.

In the present, the night air was cool against his skin as he ran, his breath coming in controlled bursts. Jason picked up the pace, his legs pumping harder as he began to close the gap between the two of you. The chase led you both through narrow alleyways, over precarious building rooftops, and now, somehow, into the depths of an abandoned building. The moonlight filtered through broken windows, casting eerie shadows that danced as you moved.

Jason's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of exertion and adrenaline. He could hear your footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space, and he knew you were close. He scanned the area quickly, his mind racing with possibilities. There, amidst the rubble and decay, he spotted a piece of broken wood. Without thinking, he picked it up and hurled it in your direction, hoping to trip you up, to slow you down just enough.

His frustration was palpable as the wood clattered to the ground, missing its mark. He cursed under his breath, pushing himself to keep going. The building was a labyrinth of crumbling walls and debris, each turn presenting a new challenge. He could feel his muscles burning, his body protesting the relentless pace, but he ignored it. The only thing that mattered was catching you, seeing your face, understanding what lay behind that mask.

Every obstacle you overcame only served to heighten his respect for you, even as it stoked his competitive fire. He could see glimpses of your form in the dim light, the way you moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly. It was infuriating and awe-inspiring all at once. He found himself admiring your tenacity, your resourcefulness. There was a part of him that almost didn't want the chase to end, that reveled in the challenge you presented.

As the pursuit continued, Jason's mind flashed back to the first time he saw you. How you had seemed to appear out of nowhere, a phantom in the night. That initial encounter had left him intrigued, unable to forget the way you had looked at him, just for a moment, before disappearing into the darkness. Since then, every sighting, every chase had added layers to the mystery, deepening his desire to unmask you.

Now, as he chased you through the abandoned building, Jason could feel the culmination of all those encounters. His senses were heightened, every sound, every shadow amplified in his pursuit. He felt alive, driven by a need to see this through, to finally confront the person who had occupied so many of his thoughts.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. The smell of dust and decay filled his nostrils, grounding him in the reality of the moment. He was close, so close. The abandoned building seemed to pulse with the tension between them, every creak and groan a testament to the high-stakes game they were playing.

Jason felt a surge of determination. He wouldn't let you slip away this time. No more near misses, no more frustrating escapes. He pushed himself harder, his eyes locked onto your silhouette, his mind focused on the singular goal of uncovering your identity. The chase had become more than just a mission; it was a quest for understanding, for closure, and perhaps, for something deeper that he couldn't quite put into words.

Just as he was in arms reach, he stumbled over some broken object, collapsing forward but reaching out to hook him fingers into your clothes, dragging you with him. "Caught you!" He scolded, scrambling up to his feet to trap you inbetween him and the ground.