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When you couldn’t sleep, it was the night that brought you comfort.
There was irony in that, you imagined. It was not unlike the irony that had you rolling your eyes when you realized you had become one of those people – the kind of insomniac movie cliché where you hid on the fire escape until all your woes had been thought through, or the sun rose to chase away the feelings of nighttime despair.
When you couldn’t sleep, this city born of Hell and fiery brimstone became a haven from your mind – like the demons of flesh and bone came calling, but in your dreams instead of the streets.
You would have appreciated the concept if this really was a movie.
Instead, you were left with this newfound hobby. It wasn’t unusual for Jason to meet you after patrol, perched on the metal steps or sitting on the edge of the windowsill, feet kicking through the smoggy city air. Sometimes, like that night, he used the front door with a key like a normal person. The soft click of the aged wood closed, locked. Familiar sounds of his boots on hardwood, the thunk of a red helmet on a counter, kevlar peeling off as he headed towards the bathroom. A clink of discarded weapons on tile. Water hissed through the shower-head behind a door you knew he only half closed after a long night.
All mundane sounds; small things that meant someone had, in fact, not broken into your apartment. Tonight was not the night you needed to be your own version of a vigilante, nor a night to mourn your boyfriend.
Thank god.
You stayed where you were with eyes cast up to the sky, that familiar feeling in your chest tightened when the small handful of stars began to disappear in the approaching light. It was nice, having something so vast and holy to focus on in these quiet hours; something that couldn’t imagine what it was like to have a life built on bones. A sadness settled in your heart when you had to see it go.
“Been out here long?”
A voice all rough and worn pulled you back down from a silver swirl of clouds drifting above.
“Uh. . .a while,” came your admission. You hadn’t bothered to keep track – you never did – but the mug gone cold in your hands spoke for itself well enough. Eyes slid over to the broad silhouette leaning out the window, white streak almost glowing in the dark.
“You know,” Jason huffed, pulling himself through the window. It always amazed you, how graceful he was for a 6 ft, 200+ pounds of anti-hero. “I’m supposed to be the sleepless mess in this relationship. There isn’t room for two, beautiful.”
You snort. Jason settled between your legs a step below, leaned back into your chest. “Oh, really? Worried I’m gonna dethrone you?”
His shoulders shook with silent laughter, and you felt yourself smile as your eyes turned back towards the once velvet sky, already lighter than it was a few moments ago. No longer a hazy void, but now a deep navy bruise with wispy clouds for cover. You started to run your fingers through Jason’s hair, still a little damp. He hums, began to relax into your arms.
“Wouldn’t that be somethin’?” he said, a little smug; you didn’t need to look to know he’s smirking – but his voice was softer than it was a minute before. It always seemed to be these sorts of gentle moments, the kind you tip-toe around in fear of invoking something colossal, something ancient, something unwelcome. They always seemed to steal the breath from your lungs in a savage conquest to tame the fear of your heart.
And just like that, your arms draped loosely around his neck, head buried into the shoulder that didn’t have a week old stab wound beneath a bandage. Jason leaned his head on yours, hands clasping themselves over your own. You knew he’d figure it out, why you’re usually out here while he’s patrolling the city – it’s not goddamn rocket science, after all – so the two of you stayed like this for a while. Ten minutes, maybe an hour. Time never existed when you were together, because all that mattered was the here, the now, the occasional day in advance so you could plan an uninterrupted date night.
When you finally looked up, dawn approached on warm, lazy wings. The silence charged with all those unspoken night-things had begun to dissipate, or just crawled back to their darkened homes to wait.
Jason watched you, always radiant in the lingering shadow of this complex life you shared, the one you refused to leave behind. After all this time, he finally began to believe that you meant it, how you always insisted you were in this with him until the end of time.
He tried to ignore the racing of his heart, tried to hide the shaky breath he took when he realized that, shit.
As he felt you hug him tighter, Jason Todd wondered underneath these deep indigo skies before dawn, if this is what being in love felt like.