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Gotham always smelled like rain.
Not the nice kind either. Not the clean spring rain that washed things away and made flowers grow. Gotham rain smelled like rust and wet asphalt and something sharp that stuck in the back of your throat.
Nathan Bailey stood on the fire escape outside Jason’s apartment and wondered if he should leave.
He was shaking again.
It wasn’t even cold.
The tremor started in his hands, the way it always did. Little electric shivers under his skin like bugs crawling inside his veins. He shoved his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie but that didn’t help much.
Three months.
Nathan pressed his forehead against the metal railing and breathed out slowly.
Below him the alley was a mess of trash bags and flickering streetlight glow. Somewhere far away a police siren wailed and cut through the quiet like a knife.
Normal Gotham noises. Normal Gotham night.
…Except Nathan wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the Wayne family anymore.
Especially not Jason.
Especially not after what he did.
The window slid open behind him.
“You planning to freeze out there or what?”
Nathan flinched.
Jason Todd leaned halfway out the window, one hand still holding the frame. His hair was messy like he’d just run his hands through it too many times, and he wore an old black t-shirt that had a hole near the collar.
He looked… normal. Which was weird. Jason was never normal.
Nathan turned around slowly. “I wasn’t freezing.”
“You were shaking.”
“Mind your business.”
Jason snorted. “Kid, you’re literally standing on my fire escape.”
Nathan rolled his eyes even though his chest still felt tight.
Jason looked at him for another second. Then he stepped aside.
“Get inside.”
Nathan hesitated.
Jason sighed dramatically. “Nathan.”
“Yeah?”
“You climbed up four stories to get here.”
“…Hey, how’d you—“
“And now you’re pretending you don’t want to come inside?”
Nathan rubbed the back of his neck.
Jason crossed his arms.
The silence stretched for a few seconds before Nathan finally climbed through the window.
Jason shut it behind him.
The apartment smelled like cheap coffee and gun oil.
Nathan dropped his backpack on the floor and immediately regretted it because the sudden movement made his head spin.
Jason noticed. Of course he noticed. Jason noticed everything.
“You look like crap,” Jason said.
Nathan flipped him off. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jason walked into the kitchen area and grabbed a glass from the counter.
“Water,” he said, shoving it into Nathan’s hands.
Nathan stared at it. “You gonna poison me?”
Jason raised an eyebrow.
“If I wanted to kill you I’d be way more creative.”
That’s… Yeah, alright. Nathan drank it.
The water felt cold going down and he hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until the glass was already empty.
Jason watched him carefully.
The silence sat between them like a bomb.
⸻
Nathan dropped onto the couch.
It was old and lumpy but familiar. He’d slept there more times than he could count over the past year.
Not that Jason ever mentioned it to the others. That was their unspoken rule. Jason never told Bruce, and Nathan never asked why.
The couch cushions dipped under him and suddenly his whole body felt heavy. Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave. Jason leaned against the counter across the room.
“You been sleeping?” he asked.
Nathan shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Define sometimes.”
“Jason.”
“Nathan.”
Nathan groaned and buried his face in the couch pillow.
“Why are you like this.”
“Because somebody has to keep you from dying in stupid ways.”
“You literally died once.”
“Okay, first of all—”
Nathan coughed suddenly.
It came out rough and sharp, ripping through his chest. He curled forward instinctively, pressing a hand against his ribs.
Jason stopped talking.
“…Nathan.”
“What?”
“You sound like a dying Victorian child.”
“No, I don’t.”
Nathan coughed again.
Jason grabbed a blanket from the back of a chair and threw it at him. Nathan caught it automatically.
“You’re shivering,” Jason said.
“I’m not—”
Jason gave him a look.
He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders a little tighter.
Jason sat down in the armchair across from him, and for a moment neither of them spoke.
The TV flickered quietly in the background.
Nathan stared at the floor. He could feel Jason watching him. Everybody always watches him. He wishes they’d stop.
Finally Jason said, softer this time,
“You disappear for two weeks.”
Nathan tensed.
“You show up looking like hell.”
Nathan didn’t respond.
“And you expect me not to ask questions?”
Nathan swallowed. “I was busy.”
Jason snorted.
“Doing what?”
Nathan hesitated. Memories flashed through his mind.
Blood on concrete.
A knife in his hand.
The sound squeezed out from someone writhing and squirming under him.
Nathan squeezed his eyes shut.
“Nothing,” he said.
Jason leaned forward.
“Nathan.”
Nathan’s chest felt tight. He could feel it again, the thing inside him, the thing that never really went away.
“You ever think about it?” Nathan asked suddenly.
Jason blinked.
“Think about what.”
Nathan’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“The night I killed him.”
Jason went very still.
The apartment seemed to go quiet around them.
Jason’s jaw tightened slightly.
“That was a long time ago,” he said carefully.
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“Not for me.”
Jason didn’t answer.
Nathan’s hands started shaking again, so he curled them into fists. “I planned it,” He admitted, very quietly.
Jason looked at him sharply.
“I know.”
“No you don’t,” Nathan said. “You think it was some accident. Some crime alley situation. Self defense.” A shake of his head, then, “I planned it.”
Jason’s eyes darkened.
Silence filled the room.
Jason finally spoke.
“Do you regret it?”
He didn’t laugh, this time.
“Every day.”
Another coughing fit hit him suddenly, this one worse. His lungs burned and the room tilted sideways.
Jason was on his feet instantly.
“Okay, yeah, you’re definitely not fine.”
Nathan tried to wave him off but his vision blurred.
“Just—cough—give me a minute—”
Jason grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Nathan swayed. The shaking had gotten worse.
“You’re burning up,” Jason muttered.
“I’m always hot.”
“That is not how fevers work.”
Nathan tried to stand.
Bad idea!
The room spun violently.
Jason caught him before he hit the floor.
“Whoa— easy there.”
Nathan’s head felt heavy against Jason’s shoulder. “Didn’t mean to… fall,” he mumbled.
Jason sighed. “You’re sick.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re literally collapsing.”
Nathan frowned.
Jason half-dragged him back to the couch.
He barely remembered lying down. Everything felt fuzzy.
Jason pressed a hand to his forehead again.
“Jesus, kid.”
Nathan blinked slowly, sluggishly swatting at his hand. His vision swam. “Don’t call me kid.”
“You’re sixteen.”
“You’re, like, twenty.”
“Point stands.”
Nathan tried to argue but another cough cut him off.
Jason disappeared into the kitchen.
Nathan listened to cabinets opening. His body felt heavy. Warm. Too warm.
Jason came back with a thermometer.
Nathan groaned.
“Oh come on.”
“Open your mouth.”
“No.”
“Nathan.”
“I hate you.”
“Join the club.”
Nathan reluctantly obeyed.
Jason waited.
The beep echoed in the quiet apartment.
Jason looked at the screen.
His eyebrows shot up.
“104.”
Nathan blinked.
“…is that bad?”
Jason stared at him, ran a hand through his hair, and sent a very much targeted glare at the younger. “You should be in a hospital.”
Nathan immediately tried to sit up.
“Nope,” Jason pushed him back down “Relax.”
“No hospitals.”
“Nathan—”
“No,” Nathan repeated.
Jason hesitated, then he sighed. Nathan is still on the run. And, he’s pretty recognizable. At least to him. “Fine.”
Nathan relaxed slightly.
Jason pulled the blanket tighter around him.
“But if you die on my couch,” Jason added, “I’m telling Bruce it was your fault.”
Nathan huffed a quiet laugh.
The room felt warm and distant. His eyelids drooped, before he could say anything. He’s a little grateful for that, at least, because he doesn’t like talking about Bruce much. It makes him feel a little more sick each time.
Jason’s voice sounded farther away now. “Try to sleep.”
Nathan mumbled something unintelligible.
Jason sat back in the chair again. Watching, just in case. All night.
Just in case Nathan stopped breathing, or ran away again.