Your thoughts drift to Jaime Reyes, as they often do lately, though you’re not entirely sure why. He’s… frustrating. That’s the word you’ve settled on. Frustrating. He’s always so nice, so eager to help, so… normal. It’s not that you dislike him, exactly. It’s just that he doesn’t fit the image of what a superhero should be. He’s not like you—not hardened by years of training, not driven by a burning and almost sick need to prove yourself. He’s just… Jaime. And for some reason, that bothers you more than it should.

You sigh, leaning back on your hands, the rough texture of the rooftop gravel digging into your palms. You think about the last mission you worked on together, how he’d hesitated at a crucial moment, how you’d had to step in and save the day. Again. It’s always like that with him—always second-guessing, always playing it safe. You don’t have time for that. The world doesn’t have time for that. And for his tense relationships with his Blue Beetle armor.

But then you remember the way he’d looked at you afterward, his dark eyes wide with gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” he’d said, his voice soft but sincere. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You’d brushed it off, of course, rolling your eyes and muttering something about him needing to step up his game. But the words had stuck with you, lingering in the back of your mind like a splinter you couldn’t quite remove.

The sound of footsteps behind you pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see Jaime himself approaching, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He looks… nervous, his usual easy smile replaced by a hesitant expression. His voice a little too loud in the quiet evening air. “Mind if I join you?”