Chapter Text
Kade's Apartment — Gotham, One week later, 6:00 AM
The alarm rang at exactly 6:00 AM.
Kade reached over without opening his eyes and silenced it before the second beep. He didn't get up right away. For another long minute, he stayed exactly where he was, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling while the apartment came to life around him. Water rushed through the old pipes. A car horn echoed from the street below. Rain tapped softly against the bedroom window.
It was quiet. Not that relaxing kind that people looked forward to at the end of a hard day. Just, empty.
After a week back in his own space, he had fully expected to get used to it again. He hadn't.
He pushed himself upright, rolling his right shoulder out of habit. He corrected the cushions on the couch and folded the blanket on the armrest. Coffee started brewing while he showered. By 6:17, the mug was already sitting on the counter. Black. No sugar.
He took one sip. "Terrible."
His own voice sounded strange in the bare apartment. There wasn't anyone there to complain that he roasted the beans too dark. No one stealing his mug while insisting his tasted better.
Kade frowned at the thought. He picked the mug up and walked back into the living room.
Everything was exactly where he had left it. Weapons neatly arranged on the workbench. Boots lined against the wall. Jacket hanging from the back of the chair. Nothing was out of place. It should have felt comforting. Instead, it just looked like nobody actually lived there.
Coffee shop — somewhere in Gotham, 7:46 AM
The coffee shop opened at eight.
The familiar, rich scent of freshly roasted coffee beans and steamed milk filled the warm room long before the first customer ever arrived. Kade had always preferred the early morning shifts. People came in half-asleep, ordered their drinks, muttered a faint thanks, and left. It was simple, predictable, and exactly how he liked it.
"...Morning," a rough voice rasped. Kade glanced up from the espresso machine. The elderly man from apartment 3B was standing at the register, clutching a folded newspaper.
"Morning," Kade replied. "The usual?"
"The usual."
Kade nodded once, turning away to grab a paper cup. One medium latte. Extra hot. Two packets of sugar. He had the order completely memorized after months of seeing the man every Tuesday and Thursday morning.
As Kade locked the portafilter into place and started the steam wand, the old man watched him work. "You look tired, son."
"I'm not," Kade said automatically.
"Hm." The old man didn't bother to argue the point. He simply accepted the hot cup, slid a few crumpled bills onto the counter, smiled politely, and walked out into the rain.
Kade waited until the little glass door swung fully shut behind him, the bell jangling. "People say too much stuff," he said to the empty room. He would be working alone today, giving his staff a few days off.
The frantic lunch rush came and went in a blur of motion. He worked entirely on autopilot, letting his muscles take over without thinking. Steam the milk. Pour the espresso. Take the cash. Hand over the change. Repeat. It kept his hands constantly busy, and busy hands usually meant a silent, cooperative mind.
Around one o'clock, he reached beneath the counter for another sleeve of takeaway cups. His fingers hit empty air. Automatically, he turned toward the back corner.
Kade stood perfectly still for a long beat. "Right."
He walked into the back storage area and grabbed the cups. By six the shop closed. Normally, Kade would spend another hour cleaning everything properly. Today, he found himself staring at the espresso machine for a few seconds, trying to remember whether he'd already wiped it down.
He had, probably. Locking the front door, the little bell jingled twice, and then everything became quiet again.
Kade's Apartment — Gotham 7:23 PM
Back at the apartment, he unpacked his groceries. Bread. Eggs. Coffee. Vegetables.
Without thinking, he placed three cans of soup on the counter. He stopped, his eyes staying on them. He shoved the two extra cans into the back of the cabinet hard enough to make everything inside rattle. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, blinking hard before turning away.
Somewhere in Gotham 10:11 PM
Patrol started at nine. The night always suited him better. Dark rooftops, cold wind, and the city stretching endlessly beneath him.
Out here, nothing has changed. Criminals still robbed convenience stores. Drug deals still happened in abandoned warehouses. Someone still thought it was a fantastic idea to point a gun at another human being. Those things made sense.
He intercepted two muggers near Robinson Park. The fight lasted less than thirty seconds. One punch, a quick disarm, a sweep of the legs, and a pair of zip ties. Done. Easy.
As he stood up, a sudden flash of movement caught his eye across the rooftops. A bright streak of red. His heart lurched before his brain could even catch up to the visual, but as he focused, he realized it was just a flickering neon billboard down the block. He rolled his neck once and kept moving.
Near midnight, he caught himself taking a deeply familiar route. The Park Row on the east end. His boots landed on the exact same rooftop before he consciously realized where he'd gone.
He frowned, staring down at the ledge. Why here?
The answer came almost instantly, because this was where the three of them usually split up to cover their sectors. Jason always took the east end rooftops with Roy complaining the entire way. His shoulders stiffened, he turned around and headed in the opposite direction before the memories could fully settle. He wasn't doing that.
Kade got home at nearly three in the morning with a kind of deeper knife cut along his lower back. It wasn't serious, just annoying and it would still need stitches. He locked the door behind him, and stood in the dark hallway. He couldn't remember why he'd stopped. Right. Bathroom.
Taking off his shirt, he cleaned the wound in silence before standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Since stitching it was out of the question, he tried to tape it together, but it wouldn’t stay. Too high. He peeled the sticky tape off. Too low. He tried again, but the adhesive folded over itself, ruining the strip.
"Seriously?" His fingers felt clumsy.
Kade stared at the crumpled piece of medical tape before throwing it into the sink. For a long moment, he simply stood there, leaning against the basin. His phone rested beside the faucet, the screen completely dark.
He gave it a sideways glance. His thumb hovered over the screen as he looked at his recent contacts.
Two names. One quick text —Need a hand…
No. That would defeat the whole point of leaving. He locked the phone without touching either contact and tossed it face down.
"I've handled worse." Leaning towards the mirror, almost making contact with his forehead, the words sounded convincing enough. But who was he even trying to convince?
He finally sat down on the floor with his bare back against the living room couch. The apartment felt too large. A month ago, he'd thought it was barely big enough for one person's things, but now it just felt cavernous. Empty.
His eyes drifted closed. He wasn't asleep, just resting. But for a split second, he could almost hear Roy laughing from the kitchen and Jason telling him to shut up. A petty argument about something. "...We're out of beans, Bean.”
A soft snort escaped him before he could stop it. His eyes snapped open instantly.
Only the refrigerator humming, the never ending rain against the windows, and him.
Kade rubbed both hands over his face, letting out a choked breath. He stayed on the floor until the first pale light of morning crept through the blinds. Then he stood up, made his coffee, got dressed, and started another day exactly the same as the last. Because keeping the routine was easy.