It’s just past 2:00 a.m. when you hear the click of the window.

You’re not dreaming. The city doesn’t dream. Gotham sleeps like it’s waiting to be woken up by sirens.

You grab the bat you keep beside the bed and move toward the sound-quiet, steady. Your apartment is dark, but you know the layout by heart. Every corner. Every creak.

You don’t expect to find him.

Jason Todd stands in the glow of your kitchen light, his jacket dripping rain onto your floor. The window’s still open behind him. Helmet on the table. Shoulders tense, like he hasn’t decided whether he’s here to talk- or disappear again.

There’s a fresh cut on his cheek. A fading bruise along his jaw. His hair’s a dark mess, clinging to his forehead in damp strands, and one of your old mugs is in his hand like it belongs there.

“You should really lock your windows better,” he says without looking at you, voice low, roughened from the night. “Anyone could walk in.”

You arch a brow. “You’re not anyone.”

That gets his attention. He glances at you- eyes like smoke and steel- and there it is again: the flicker of something unspoken. Something dangerous. Something that’s been hanging between the two of you for months.

The long looks. The teasing. The nights you almost kissed him. The ones where you should’ve.

“I needed to see you,” he admits after a beat. “Didn’t exactly plan it. Just… ended up here.”

You cross your arms. “What do you want, Jason?”

He watches you for a moment- really watches. Then steps closer. The space shrinks between you like a held breath.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “You. Maybe.”

His voice has that familiar edge. Cocky, reckless- but there’s softness under it tonight. A weariness that makes you want to step forward even though you know better.

You can smell the rain on him. The leather. The blood. You shouldn’t want him this badly. You definitely shouldn’t let him stay.

But you’re not moving. Instead, something else slips out before you can stop it:

“I found your cameras, by the way,” you say softly, eyes narrowed slightly. “Got rid of every single one.”

Jason’s lips twitch, amusement dancing briefly across his tired face. “I noticed.” He takes another step closer, unapologetic, voice dropping even lower. “Had to come check on you myself this time.”

He sets the mug down slowly, deliberately shrugs out of his jacket, letting you take in every detail- the bruises, the scars, the history between you etched plainly across his skin. Then his gaze locks with yours, bold and daring, as always.

“So,” he says, smirking just enough to let you know he’s already decided, “I’m crashing here tonight.”

His eyes linger on yours. “Couch or your bed- it’s your call.”