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Alfred is yanking open the curtains, Master Bruce has come back thinking that he may just waste away as the day moves on. Alfred will not stand for it, not all standards have been lost even if he allows young Bruce to toy with this idea of putting on a fursona and walloping criminals in the night.
“Master Bruce, don’t you think it is high past time to get up.” Alfred moves to yank the sheets away from his slumbering master when suddenly there are two strong hands enveloped around his neck. Alfred pauses. He is not unfamiliar with this position.
He is unfamiliar with the cold glint in his child’s eyes. This isn’t the Bruce who left him. Recognition kicks into place in Bruce’s eyes. His hands slip away and shame seeps in. Bruce’s heavy breaths even. For having a nightmare Bruce moved not a single inch. From the outside his sleep looked peaceful. It is quite a ruse, and it leaves Alfred to wonder what else Bruce may be covering with master deflection.
Alfred feels a sudden worry for his child. Scared of what Bruce may have seen while away, of how he sleeps prepared for any intruder. Always on edge, but always looking at ease.
Alfred’s hands shake as he straightens out the tray he brought up, but he doesn’t dare mention it. Bruce wouldn’t hurt him, but Alfred realizes that he very well could. Bruce was never this strong or powerful. Not physically. He was always a mentally strong child, but now he has come back transformed.
“It’s about time you awaken, almost half the day has past. You may dwell in a cave, but you aren’t a vampire.” Bruce doesn’t mumble a word, instead he looks guiltily upon Alfred. Alfred isn’t going to make him feel any worse for it. If Master Bruce wishes to speak of it he will say something. It does dishearten him when Bruce takes the chance to move on without a word.
Feelings that he might not know him as well as he used to inch in. What happened to his baby?
The nightmares leech onto Dick tonight, he can’t get rid of them. So he cautiously steps closer to the door he knows Bruce sleeps behind, or at least supposedly sleeps behind. There have been many nights he has escaped there for comfort to only find an empty bed. Luckily tonight there is a form underneath the covers. Dick lumbers a little closer, softly. Hoping he won’t have to wake Bruce.
He’s at the edge of the bed, and he softly whispers in his pathetic little voice, “Bruce? Bruce-” Dick panics as he feels Bruce’s large hands constrict around his throat. Oh, no maybe Bruce is tired of him. Finally annoyed by all of his antics. He scrambles against the grasp, sobbing. They're gone in an instant, and he flees.
Bruce panicked when he finally realized who he had at the other end of his python grip. The little boy looked terrified, he trembled as he tried to push Bruce away. He wants to find Dick and tell him how sorry he is, but chasing Dick down would probably just make him more scared. So Bruce wallows for the rest of the night.
Dick avoids Bruce for the next couple days. He’s jumpy, and Bruce feels like failed. He took in Dick to make him feel safe, so that he never felt alone like he did. Why would Dick go to him though?
It’s Bruce who has to go to him. Bruce kneels down, and Dick looks down avoiding Bruce’s eyes. He doesn’t want to anger him again, “Dick, I’m sorry if I scared you,” he wavers, “I was having a nightmare.”
“You have nightmares too?” Dick looks up inquisitively.
“Yes, and I know how scary they can be. It’s okay to feel fear though,” he brushes his fingers through his hair, “You can always come to me when you are scared though. I’ll protect you.” It’s a promise he made to the city, but somehow this one is even heavier. One Bruce fully intends on upholding.
Dick has always told him that it was okay to come to him if he had a nightmare. That he didn’t care if he woke him up, even though Grayson already gets limited sleep as it is. Damian never did expect then to be greeted by his older brother choking him.
“Grayson!” he hisses, “Let go of me this instant!” Dick comes to, shirking away.
Damian looks about on the verge of crying and Dick wants to reach for him to pull him in. Damian flinches back. Dick wants to cry, he has messed up now. Damian won’t trust him ever again. He didn’t mean to, Damian whispers “I’m sorry.” ready to make his (quick, steady) retreat.
“Damian, no. You just- you startled me.” Dick looks at him pleadingly, “Do you want to talk?”
Damian doesn’t really want to talk, and he’s afraid it would be best if he just leave. Dick moves over though, and Damian knows that means he wants to cuddle. He knows that Dick probably was having a nightmare and that his presence might comfort him. So for him Damian slips by him. He feels Dick relax around him. He softly whispers into his ear, “I’m so sorry.” Damian will not admit that this comforts him.
Dick wishes that Jason would let go, it feels like the pill being jammed down his throat. Like he can’t- he can’t – breathe. His fingers go to pry away the vice grip around his neck, just like that one night-
Jason had come into his apartment bleeding, so he patched him up and put him on the couch. He just wanted to check on his brother, check on his injuries, tuck him in a little tighter, “Jason,” he gasps. Bright green eyes flicker on and they glow as they glare up at him, “JASON!” he frantically calls. The shining eyes dull, the hands ease away. Dick can finally breathe, he almost collapses with relief.
“Jason,” he asks shakily, “are you okay?”
Jason doesn’t respond, he just looks away. Dick lays his hand on his shoulder, and Jason immediately flicks him away, “Buzz off, dickhead.”
Dick slowly swallows, “Jason it’s alright.” Jason just looks on soberly at the ceiling.
The kid normally sleeps like a rock. Dead to the world and out after being up as long as physically possible. Until his eyes are literally drooling to go to sleep, drip dropping. Heavier and heavier. There could be an earthquake and replacement wouldn’t notice. It’s not good spatial aware. Tonight though when Jason creeps closer to him he was thrashing. He was panicking, he was giggling.
Jason eyes widen, Tim has him in a death grip. And his laughing manically. Just like him . Jason slaps him and that snaps Tim back. He’s shaking like a drenched kitten. Jason is shaking too, he sounded just like-
“Tim?” Tim looks back at him panicked, “Tim, are you okay?” Tim bursts into tears, and Jason doesn’t hesitate to scoop the teeny tiny little boy into his arms. He hushes him, and holds him close even as his snot and tears slickens the front of his shirt. Who knew Timmy could have such a strong grip. He holds on tighter to his little brother, he doesn’t want to know what happened, not to his little Timmy.
Rarely does the family intrude on Alfred’s area of the house, but Bruce has seeked him out tonight. There’s an emergency and he didn’t respond to the call on the comms, he knows that Alfred has retreated to bed but normally he is a light sleeper. Bruce is worried about him. He’s always worried about him.
When there is no reply to his knock, panic increases. Bruce bursts through the door, and he exhales Alfred is there, just sleeping. Bruce goes to rouse him from his sleep when he is violently reminded that no one is free from paranoia and nightmares in this household.
Alfred has him in tight hold. Prepared to neutralize him as he was taught. Even though Bruce is massive, Alfred effectively has him caught. Alfred lets go the moment he realizes it is his Master and not some assailant he has caught in his mid sleep defense.
“I’m so sorry my dear boy.” Bruce sulks in the corner away from Alfred.
Bruce’s voice doesn’t tremble, “That’s alright Alfred.”
Alfred wearily sighs, “What is it that you may need?”
“No, I’m so sorry Alfred. I shouldn’t have woken you up.”
Alfred looks at him softly, “I’m already awake, my dear boy.”
Bruce looks down guilty, “The city can’t sleep one night without restlessness.”