Chapter Text
His footsteps are light.
The air in his lungs feels sparse. Dick tried to keep his breathing under control as he crept past Jason’s room. His feet would occasionally press on a creaky part of the floor. The aching protest of the ground made Dick flinch each time. His footsteps were relatively silent, but the ground underneath him had other ideas. He continues forward, regardless, and attempts to slink past Tim’s room next. He could hear him snoozing inside ( good, Dick thinks, he hasn't been sleeping lately). In fact, he could hear two people snoozing, and he then realized that he hadn't heard Jason’s breathing in his own room. Dick had a heightened sense of hearing.
Dick smiles as he makes the extra effort to mute the sound of his steps. He keeps at it until he stops in front of Damian’s door.
Dick doesn’t bother knocking. It was the middle of the night, and Dick didn't want his other two siblings waking because of the noise. He quietly turns the knob, tensing his muscles as he does so, and stiffly opens the door slowly to conceal the potential creaking.
He doesn’t feel safe until he steps into the room. He releases a relieved breath as he closes the door behind him.
Dick focuses his senses on the only bed in the room. His nose picks up the largest concentration of Damian’s scent on the mattress, a mixture of Jasmine and freshly-chopped wood, and his vision lands on a body shaped lump underneath a thick blanket. Dick moves across the room to examine the scene closer. He watches the blanket move with Damian’s slow, steady, breathing. It lifts, falls, and lifts again.
Dick climbs up onto the mattress. He lifts the blanket to insert himself in. He wiggles closer to Damian. His arms wrap around the boy’s stomach, and he tugs Damian close enough to curl his body around him. He sighs in relief as he digs his nose in Damian’s hair to inhale the waving aroma that exuded from him. He could feel Damian’s weight resting on the left arm he’d slinked underneath him. It was a welcome pressure.
Dick relaxes with Damian in his arms. He closes his eyes, intent to sleep, but then Damian stirs groggily.
“Grayson?” Damian grumbles.
Dick doesn’t say anything. He cautiously tests Damian’s reaction by tightening his arms.
Two things could happen. Damian could reject him, claiming that he wanted to be alone, or he could accept Dick into his private bubble of territory. Dick was hoping that Damian would do the latter. He’d spent a lot of energy just getting to his room.
Damian makes his sleepy decision. He nuzzles his nose against Dick’s neck.
Dick feels as if he’d been shot with a bullet filled with happiness. Delight erupts in his heart, surges through his blood, and warms his entire body.
“Go back to sleep, Damian,” Dick whispers as his right hand, the only free one that wasn’t pinned, slides down the back of Damian’s head. It cards through black strands. He was much too happy to keep his hand still. It was difficult to subdue his happiness without allowing it to burst out.
“Mm,” Damian responds half-lucidly. Dick can feel him settle in his arms, just like it was supposed to be. Damian then says, in a tired exhale, “Wh’t’re you doin’ here?”
Dick takes a moment to process what he’d said. It takes him longer than he’d like to figure out what the heck Damian was asking.
Oh. He’s asking why I came.
“Wanted to be with you,” Dick answers quietly.
Damian hums in acknowledgment. Dick moves his hand away from his hair to wrap around his back. It was hard to believe that the puppy in his arms had been so touch-repellant. Dick might not have believed that the growling, angry, violent assassin-pup he'd first met would have let Dick hold him with no protest. Yet, here he was, with his baby brother resting in his arms. Just like how it was supposed to be.
“Warm,” Damian sighs again as he presses closer to Dick.
“Hm,” Dick noises happily, exhaling in elation.