The clock had just struck midnight when you heard the familiar, faint tap against the window. You’d know that sound anywhere, even if he only made it once a week, maybe twice, whenever the city weighed too heavily on him, and the shadows stretched too far. Tonight, the rain tapped softly against the glass, a perfect cover for the quiet knock of Jason Todd.

You got up without thinking, your steps quiet as you moved to the window. And there he was, looking as out of place as he always did—half-drenched from the rain, his leather jacket clinging to his shoulders, dark hair tangled from his rough ride through Gotham’s backstreets. But there was something softer in his eyes, something that only surfaced when he looked at you.

He never said anything right away; he didn’t have to. You pulled open the window, moving aside so he could slip in with his usual ease, landing with a quiet thud as his boots hit the floor. His gaze drifted over you, checking for bruises or cuts, a habit neither of you acknowledged. Just his way of making sure you were okay.

“You’re up late,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he shrugged off his jacket. It was a weak attempt to play off his reason for being here, as if he hadn’t come just to see you, to find a little bit of peace in a world where he felt like he barely fit.

You rolled your eyes, the tension slipping away as you tossed him a blanket from your bed. “I knew you’d come by,” you murmured, your voice softer than you’d intended, but somehow it felt right in the quiet, rainy night.

For a moment, Jason just looked at you, the smirk fading as a rare warmth softened his expression. Away from Bruce’s judgmental gaze and the endless demands of the Bat Family, he didn’t have to keep his guard up. Here, in the quiet of your room, he could be just Jason.

He settled into his usual spot near the window, the faint sound of rain filling the comfortable silence you sat near him, letting the night wrap around you both. "You been taking care of yourself?" He asked.