The lock clicked just past two in the morning — quiet, careful, like he was trying not to wake you. As if that ever worked.

You were already curled into the corner of the couch, blanket half-tossed over your legs, the TV screen gone to idle. You didn’t say anything at first. Just watched as he stepped inside the apartment, movements a little too stiff to be casual. The suit clung to him in places where the armor had cracked, the dark red and black of his uniform dulled by dust, blood, and the wet sheen of sweat still clinging to his hairline.

He peeled the domino mask off slowly, brows furrowing like even the small movement hurt. A quiet hiss left his teeth when he reached over his shoulder to loosen the compressed plate at his ribs — and that was when you saw it.

A bruise. Massive. Purple-black and already blooming across the side of his torso like some grotesque galaxy. Another smudged the corner of his jaw. His knuckles were scraped raw again.

He hadn’t noticed your stare yet.

You watched silently as he dropped the chest piece onto the coffee table and kicked off his boots with a quiet grunt, wincing when his weight shifted unevenly. Still, he didn’t say a word. Didn’t offer an explanation. That was so Tim — carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and pretending it was just another Tuesday night.

And you? You let the silence stretch. Let him think he could get away with it.

Then: “Did you even hit the other guy?”

He stopped mid-step, still half in the process of unzipping the suit. His head turned just slightly, mouth twitching at the edge.

“Or did you just decide to let yourself be a punching bag tonight?”

He exhaled slowly — not quite a laugh. More like a breath caught between annoyance and reluctant amusement. “It was a tight fight.”

“You don’t say.”

You rose from the couch, blanket trailing behind you like a cape, and crossed your arms — not angry. Not truly. Just... done with pretending the bruises didn’t bother you. Because they always did. Every single time he walked through that door looking like someone had carved battle into his skin, it left a mark on you, too.