Chapter Text
Undisclosed Safehouse — Gotham, 8:18 AM
Kade had been staring at the ceiling for an hour, entirely out of excuses.
His ribs didn't ache when he breathed, his fever was long gone, and he could walk across the room without looking like a newly born deer. By every reasonable measure, he was perfectly fine.
Which meant he was officially out of time.
The original deal had been a week. He’d stay until he could survive on his own, and then he’d get the hell out. He’d actually reached that milestone three days ago, but he’d spent the last seventy-two hours inventing increasingly pathetic reasons to stall. He told himself his shoulder was too stiff. He told himself the weather looked unpleasant. He told himself it would be rude to leave after Roy bought the good groceries.
He looked over at the small duffel bag sitting open at the foot of the couch. There were no excuses left. He had a coffee shop to check on, a neglected apartment full of weapons to maintain, and a mountain of bills that definitely weren't going to pay themselves. He was leaving tomorrow morning. First thing.
Sitting up, Kade dragged his feet out of the creaking cushions and began gathering his sparse belongings. He tossed his phone charger and a few spare clothes that he acquired over his stay here into the bag, only to pause when he spotted a stray, blue sock wedged under the couch.
He picked it up by the very tip of his fingers and yelled toward the kitchen. "Roy, why is your footwear laying around? It’s grossing the place."
"Because!" Roy’s voice echoed back, entirely defensive. Kade walked into the kitchen and tossed the sock. It hit Roy directly in the face.
"Hey!" Roy caught it as it fell, looking insulted.
"You deserved it," Kade said, though his mouth twitched into a small smirk.
Roy rolled his eyes but handed him a fresh mug of coffee anyway. As Kade took it, Roy’s gaze drifted past the smaller guy, landing directly on the open duffel bag in the living room. The playful look vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden shift.
"You're packing," Roy noted.
"Yeah," Kade said, keeping his eyes on the dark liquid in his mug. "Tomorrow morning. I've stayed way longer than I said I would, and I've got a life to get back to."
"Right." Roy leaned his hip against the counter, taking a slow sip. He didn't launch into a massive argument or try a dramatic guilt trip. He accepted it.
The lack of resistance honestly made it worse. Over the last week, Kade had accidentally memorized the entire geography of the safehouse. He knew exactly which floorboard creaked outside the bathroom, which cabinet held the mugs, and where Roy hid his secret snack stash. He knew Jason liked his coffee strong enough to strip paint and that neither of them ever slept more than four hours a night. The place had become familiar. Too familiar.
"Look," Roy said, breaking the silence with a faint smile. "You don't have to make it weird and disappear forever. You're still allowed to come back over."
Kade raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"Free coffee. Free food. Complaining about Jason. It's a full-service establishment."
"Mostly the complaining part?"
"Naturally."
Jason walked in. He stopped the second he saw the duffel bag, his jaw tightening into a hard line.
He looked from the bag to Kade. "You're leaving."
"Tomorrow morning. I'm fully healed."
Jason stepped forward. Before Kade could dodge, Jason reached out and firmly pressed two fingers right against Kade's ribs.
Kade didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He stared Jason dead in the eye, running entirely on pure, unadulterated spite.
Jason pulled his hand back, looking mildly irritated that he hadn't elicited a groan. "Just don't do anything stupid the second you step outside."
"That's a pretty vague command, Hood."
"You know exactly what I mean," Jason growled, turning away to aggressively polish his gun slide, pretending to be vastly more interested in the metal than the conversation.
Roy watched the display, a massive, knowing smirk spreading across his face. Jason caught him out of the corner of his eye. "What? Why are you making that face?"
"I always make this face, Jay. It's my character design."
"It's unfortunate, that’s what it is." Jason grunted.
Kade shook his head, a genuine laugh escaping him this time. He looked around the kitchen one last time—at the messy counter, the empty box of donuts, and the two idiots who had dragged him out of the dark. Tomorrow, he'd be back in his own apartment, dealing with his own life. It was exactly what he wanted.
Undisclosed Safehouse — Gotham, 9:00 AM The next morning
He yanked the zipper shut on the duffel and took a slow breath. There was only the standard Gotham morning chill creeping through the window cracks.
From the kitchen, Roy let out a tragic, lingering wail. "Nooo! My favorite couch ornament! Don’t leave me, I'm too young to be alone!”
Before Kade could dodge, Roy marched over and draped his entire upper body dramatically over Kade's frame. Kade didn't even bother looking up from his bag.
"You’ll cope,” adjusting his strap. "Go buy a plant.”
Roy shifted his weight, pulling his hood over his face like a mourning veil. "A plant won’t sass me about my terrible coffee ratios, Kade. It's not the same.”
"Get a cat then.”
"Already dated one,” Roy shuddered, instantly standing up straight. "Didn’t end well. Lots of leather, way too many theft charges.”
Kade snorted, finally slinging the light duffel over his good shoulder. On the armrest, the fleece blanket he’d hogged all week sat folded neatly.
A heavy, rhythmic thudding echoed from the hallway as Jason walked in, fully kitted out in his gear. He was actively checking handgun magazines he absolutely did not need to be checking right now. He stopped dead in the doorway, giving Kade a single, incredibly tight nod. He said absolutely nothing.
Awkward.
Kade cleared his throat just to break it. "I’m heading back to my apartment," Kade said, gesturing to the living room. "The couch is officially yours again.”
Jason’s jaw flexed. "Copy.”
He clicked a magazine home with a sharp snap, muttered something entirely too low to catch, and brushed past Kade into the kitchen like the conversation had already ended.
Roy leaned in, stage-whispering, "Translation: he’s secretly weeping on the inside and he'll miss you terribly.”
"Roy,” Jason barked from the kitchen, not looking back.
Roy held up his hands in a mock surrender. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger.”
Kade blinked, thrown off. He’d expected a few jokes, maybe even a little relief that their space was empty again.
Jason suddenly stopped, turned on his heel, and marched back into the room. He tossed a brand-new, unopened pack of medical gauze onto the coffee table, where it landed with a dull thud.
"Fine,” Jason snapped, his eyes narrowing. "Go break yourself out there again for all I care. It's officially not my problem anymore.” He turned around and stalked right back down the hall.
A second later, a door slammed shut. Hard.
Roy exhaled a long breath, shaking his head. "And that, believe it or not, was his version of a soft heartfelt goodbye. Seriously, don’t take it personally.”
Kade stared down the empty hallway, his throat feeling a little tighter than he meant it to. "Guys got a weird definition of soft.”
"Big brothers, what can you do?” Roy said with a casual shrug. He turned and started following Kade down the narrow apartment steps, acting like it was just any other regular morning patrol.
Outside, the freezing Gotham chill instantly settled into the dark alleyway. The motorcycle Jason had subtly retrieved and saved for him was parked neatly between two overflowing dumpsters. Miraculously, none of the local street crews had stripped it, it still had all its wheels and mirrors.
Roy shoved a warm paper cup directly into Kade’s hands. Looking down, Kade noticed the lid had the word STRAY scrawled across it in Roy’s absolutely terrible handwriting.
"Coffee for the road," Roy said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Try not to die alone out there, yeah?”
Kade nodded, holding the warm cup tight. It felt like it meant a lot more than a cheap coffee should, leaving him caught up in a wave of words he had no idea how to say out loud.
Roy shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "The doors stay unlocked for friends,” he said. "Even when they're acting like total idiots.”