Jason Todd headcanon .
Bruce never worried when Jason took the car and left. He needs it to clear his head and help him focus. When driving, Jason has so many things to keep track of (3 mirrors and what's going on ahead of him, among other things), that he can't afford to spiral. Jay knows what works for him, and Bruce lets him do his thing.
One night, Jason comes home, nerves shot and sanity frayed. He needs quiet. He needs relief. So he goes, sits himself down in the driver's seat of an old Corvette, and sticks the key into the engine. There's nothing but him, and the stretch of road. As he drives, the tension drains.
Jason's jaw unclenches.
His shoulders drop.
His breathing evens out.
Jason is at peace and there's nothing he likes more about it.
When Jason drives, he doesn't need anything but himself and the empty road. Sometimes, the temptation is a little much, and he floors the gas. It's the best feeling of his life.
The wind runs through his hair, dries out his eyes, and drowns out the static of his thoughts.
He needs it. Needs this.
And when he comes back, after the Lazurus Pit, after everything, Bruce tosses him some keys.
His Corvette is waiting for him, repaired and in functional condition.
So Jason does what feels normal. He turns the key in the ignition and floors the gas.
