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There is an itch in his gums. Perpetual. Unceasing. Something else is under his skin that writhes and twitches and makes his canines ache, utterly ravenous.
This isn't the first time this has happened. Perhaps it began after he was raised from the dead. Perhaps it was before even then. He was always a hungry child. It probably has something to do with growing up on the streets; when you're starving and everyone around you is starving and you need to eat and everyone around you needs to eat, you can't be fussy over the kind meat you eat. A half-eaten hamburger thrown in a nearby trashcan was the jackpot, though often he and many other children his age resorted to catching pigeons and rats in Gotham's depraved alleyways.
This hunger, however, is not natural. He remembers Ra's Al Ghul explaining it to him:
"You were ripped away from death. The Lazarus Pit brought your soul back into your body. When your soul has been beyond the grave for the amount of time yours has, it craves to return. Sustain yourself however you can and you will be able control that urge."
How wonderful how he has to live with this for the rest of his life. Great, thank's Ra's.
Luckily, his family didn't seem to pay any mind to his new… preferences… for food. Steak, chicken, bacon, pork, meat. Or, if they did, they decided not to mention it. That's probably for the best, Jason can't begin to imagine how that conversation would go.
This urge - this itch - is starting to frighten him. His impulses are becoming more difficult to control. On patrol, the scent of a thug's blood on his glove after a swift broken nose makes saliva pool in his mouth. He fights back an animalistic growl when any member of his family asks, "Are you done?" with his food at dinner. He's found that he stays away from where Damian takes care of Batcow and his other animals in the Cave, lest he acts on an instinct he really doesn't want to act on. Ace and Titus have begun avoiding him throughout the manor.
It's painful - this restraint. He knows that simply letting go would make this itch disappear, finally soothed. The fear of the unknown, of what he would do, terrifies him. He refuses to let go of himself, even if it will kill him.
Looking in the mirror in his bathroom, he vacantly wonders if his eyes have always been green.