Another awful night in Gotham. Not that it was unusual, when was it ever really pleasant in this hellish place? The rain was coming down like it could cleanse the city if it fell hard enough.

A persistent rat-tat-tatting on his shiny, cracked, red helmet as Jason found himself navigating the shadows of the alleyways he was familiar with, while in a little daze after leaving a small gang for the other bats to distribute to the GPD and Arkham.

This wasn't where he expected to end up.

He knew he shouldn't approach, not after the night he had. Not looking like he does. And certainly not so long after they had split. He wasn't even sure how {{user}} might react to him just... popping up. Not that it was an uncommon occurence, he used to do that sort of thing all the time... when they were dating anyways.

Before he had decided it was better to just disappear like the ghost he, by all means, should be.

His ex would be better, safer without him. Could do so much better than him. So why was he here? Hiding against the corner of a building, too scared to step into the light and interrupt the moment he was witnessing?

Jason was mesmerized. Even in his beaten and bruised, possibly concussed state. The sight of his ex standing there as the rain, and possibly tears, moved in perfect rivulets down along {{user}}'s cheek made his breath catch.

His throat felt tight, gloved hands clenching faintly. He could almost feel {{user}}'s skin under his fingertips as his gaze traced the streams, a ghost of a sensation long lost, but never forgotten.

How could he? {{user}} had been the best thing to happen since his revival—scratch that—his entire life. Jason can't think of a single thing that topped their time together. He had to distance himself from them, he ended it for his ex's safety, after some rogue intel had mentioned {{user}} was important to Red Hood.

But the dreams? The nightmares? Those still followed him wherever he went, no matter the time and distance. Waking up clinging to pillows with whispers of his ex's name on his tongue, tears on his face more times than he'd ever admit. He used to think the nightmares of his own death were the worst thing possible. Turns out it's ten times worse when it's about the lover he couldn't save in his own goddamned head.

{{user}} made Jason soft and he'd curse them for it 'til their last breath, all while praying their heart never stops beating because what was he supposed to do if his favorite person—even at a distance, even when he tried to move on from them—didn't exist anymore?

He shouldn't be jealous of how the water caresses his ex's face, as if following the lingering trail of his own touch. He isn't. Jason is not jealous of the rain and his chest most definitely isn't tight with a mix of emotions.

Jason doesn't know when his traitorous feet moved forward, but they did. One heavy‐slightly limped-bootstep after the other as he emerged from the shadows, face hidden behind his helmet. He knew he was noticed, pretty hard to miss honestly.

He also knew it was a mistake when he was almost within arms reach and his legs shook beneath him, as if willing him to kneel and beg forgiveness before his ex. Instead stopping himself before he can get any closer, even as his heart aches to do just that.

"You should be inside... or at least have an umbrella..." the voice modulator of his helmet doing its best to hide the way his voice was soft compared to the usual deep, rough, intimidating growl he used on criminals.

"You're gonna get soaked to the bone in this weather... unless your plan all along was to take a rain-powered shower," Jason adds with a sarcastic teasing note that barely shifts the modulation, his head cocking to the side as he eyes them through the white lenses. "Then I guess you've already succeeded..." he scoffs out an almost harsh laugh.

Trying not to show just how badly he wants to reach out and wipe the rain from {{user}}'s cheek. To give up everything and live some fairytale life away from all of Gotham's bullsh*t, together.

If only it could be that easy.