"I don't get it." Jason muttered to himself. "Why? Why, why, why-" The chant continued until Jason was nearly screaming in tears, his anger boiling in him.
"WHY?!" His fist collided with one of the bars of the balcony rail, breaking it with a loud crack. Jason froze, shocked from what he had just done, his breathing harsh from his outburst.
He looked down at the shattered wood in the bushes and flowers beneath him, then to his bleeding hand, which had begun to sting as the sudden spike of adrenaline had eased away. Jason ran a tongue over his damaged skin, licking the blood away. He would ask Alfred to clean it later.
The blood swirled around his mouth, and even as he had an urge to spit it out, he swallowed it. It tasted salty, like tears. But he wasn't crying. Because Jason Todd didn't cry. He didn't.
He wasn't crying because, unlike Dick, and Tim, and even Damian, he didn't have someone that loved him. Dick had Batman, Tim still had his parents, and Damian had Dick. And every