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Dick wakes groggily. He isn’t certain why at first. The moon still shone lazily through his curtains which meant it was too early to start the day.
His covers rustle as they fall from his shoulders. He’d sat up to read his bedside clock.
Three twenty am.
Yeah, definitely too early.
Dick takes a moment to assess. He’d gotten back to the manor at one am, so his body should have been in a dead sleep until at least eight.
Dick was never one to awaken randomly —sans nightmares— so his head swivels on his neck as he looks for the disturbance. His instincts prove true as his eyes narrow on the old oak door separating his room from the hallway. It was slightly ajar and moving as he observed it.
He waited for the person to slip in. He had to hand it to them, they’d been mostly silent.
“Oh…sorry.” His visitor whispers upon noticing they’d been caught.
“Hey, Tim.”
“Hi…” His little brother responds. In the dim lighting, Dick could see the throw blanket hugged around his small frame.
This was about the last thing he’d expect from a Thursday morning. Or any morning. Dick could count on one hand the number of times Tim had come to him in the middle of the night since they’d met. On both accounts, he’d been ramped up on caffeine and spilling details from his newest true-crime documentary.
“You alright buddy?” Dick asks with a sleep rough voice.
Upon closer inspection, he spots a faint tremble to Tim’s small frame. Cold seeps into Dick’s bare feet as he plants them on the ground, still seated in bed but bent forward in concern.
“Uh…yeah. I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to wake you.” Tim’s voice wobbles almost imperceptibly. He takes a stilted step back as though to leave; like Dick could in good conscience let him go in his state.
“Aw Timmy,” Dick speaks softly, opening his arms as a silent invitation. He isn’t sure if his brother would accept it or not. Tim tended to waver like a newborn fawn when it came to touch and comfort.
Surprisingly, the kid launches himself into Dick’s chest with a wrenching choked sound. Tim’s hands claw the back of Dick’s Superman shirt desperately as though one of them would disappear if he let go.
Dick’s concern increases by quite a few notches.
“Tim?” He asks softly. Dick holds him close to his chest and tries not to worry about the way Tim’s shaking beneath him. “Did something happen?”
With a vehement jerk of his head, Tim burrows in closer. His nails were starting to hurt.
Still sleep-addled, Dick’s brain slowly pieces together the context. Bruce installed state-of-the-art security in the manor; it was high near impossible to break in without triggering a cascade of internal alarms and defense measures. And if there was an intruder, Bruce would be up with Alfred shepherding them into the safety of the Batcave.
This morning the manor stands silent. There was no danger to Tim.
No physical danger.
“Oh, baby bird…” He sighs softly as Tim cries into his chest. Unlike the original outburst, these cries were quiet…almost completely silent.
Slowly, careful not to jostle the bundle of crying teenager in his arms, Dick maneuvers himself so that they both are sitting on his bed. His headboard digs painfully into his back—not that he minds at the moment.
His hand brushes through Tim’s sweaty hair, smoothing it back gently. Tim’s body shudders with silent sobs.
Throughout the breakdown, Dick keeps up a steady stream of reassurances. They’re quiet, a whisper, yet loud enough to break the stifling quiet of the room.
“You’re okay bud.” He says softly as Tim cries himself out. His small body was dead weight in Dick’s arms.
There was a soft mumble as Tim shifted.
“What was that baby bird?”
“‘M sorry,” he says, watery. Dick’s heart clenches as he tightens his grip on Tim gently.
“You don’t need to apologize, Timmy. I’m proud of you, actually.”
Tim snorts derisively. “You’re proud of me for crying?”
“Yes.” He answers seriously. “It takes as much strength to let yourself cry then it does to hold it in. And it takes even more strength to ask for help. I’m very proud of you bud.”
Tim sniffs audibly.
“Was it a nightmare?” Dick asks when the silence had stretched too long. He already knew the answer.
There was a nod against his chest.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He prompts. This time Tim shook his head.
“Okay, that's okay. Do you need anything? I’m going to get you some water, don’t want you getting a headache.”
There was a small stretch of silence before Tim shifted slightly in his arms. It was hard to see, but Tim had angled his head to look his brother in the eyes.
“Can I stay here with you?”
Dick tries to hide the way his heart soars and his mouth threatens to break into a shimmering grin. It doesn’t really work.
“Of course!”
“Okay…” Tim whispers, looking unsure as though Dick was joking and planning to throw him out.
Fat chance.
Dick disentangles his little brother from his arms gently, plopping him down on the bed with a quick jab to his ribs. Tim shrieks and laughs at the sudden move.
Dick grabs a cup off his nightstand—Alfred had yet to take it—and walks over to his bathroom. Maybe tap water wasn’t the most sanitary coming from a bathroom sink, but it’ll do. Dick’s seen Tim blearily eat cereal with orange juice, he doubted the kid would mind tap water.
“Here you go bud.” He whispers as he hands Tim a glass of water. The kid had sat stiffly in the center of his bed awaiting his return.
“Thanks,” Tim responds before taking slow sips of the water. Dick slides back into bed, laying down this time as Tim continues drinking.
There are a few minutes of silence as Tim gradually drains his glass. Dick can tell he’s mentally reining himself in.
“Done?” He asks after a moment. When Tim nods, Dicks carefully takes the now empty cup from his hands.
It’s a bit awkward for a few moments as Tim sits in the middle of the bed. He stares somewhere in the middle distance, zoned out.
“You okay?” Dick asks carefully.
“Yeah…” Tim whispers back, completely unconvincing.
With a repressed sigh, Dick sits back up. The moon had shifted a bit by now, illuminating the room further in a soft glow.
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” He asks gently, slowly snaking an arm across Tim’s thin shoulders. His brother almost immediately slumps against him and something in his heart swells at the trust Tim’s bestowing upon him.
“No,” Tim says hastily. That was fine, talking didn’t help everyone after all. “I just…I don’t wanna be alone.”
“Aw, Tim.” He whispers, almost to himself. His head flops down onto his little brother's hair with a hurt sigh. “You’re never alone. Not anymore.”
Tim sniffs. Dick runs another hand through his hair.
“C’mon.” He says after a few moments of offering quiet comfort. “I bet you’re tired.”
Tim starts against him suddenly.
“You’re not leaving are you?” He asks, and the panic in his voice physically hurts.
“Of course not,” Dick reassures gently, squeezing Tim’s shoulder to drive home the point. Then he grins, even if his little brother can’t see it well in the dark room. “We’re having a sleepover.”
Before Tim can protest, Dick launches them both backwards onto the pillows. Tim exhales in shock before giggling softly. The sound makes his chest warm.
It takes a few moments of adjusting before they find a position comfortable to sleep in. Tim’s head rests against his side.
“Are…you sure this is okay?” Tim asks and wow this kid was gonna kill him one day with his sadness.
“Yeah baby bird, it’s just fine,” Dick whispers. He can’t put into words his joy. Jason had only ever trusted him enough to comfort him a handful of times, and after everything…he’d never trust him like that again.
Tim had always handled his emotions alone. He claimed he was imposing when he was anything other than respectful or polite. It hurt Dick that he’d never gotten to be a proper kid.
Honestly, he’d never expected something like this to happen. Now that it was though, he refused to mess it up like last time. He wanted Tim to trust him enough to come to him. He wanted to be there for him the way he hadn’t been for Jay.
He can’t mess up a second time.
His eyes grew heavy. The soft weight of Tim’s head against his side lulled him to a twilight fuzz of awareness.
“Love you baby bird.” He murmurs sleepily. Tim's hand curls against his side.
Dick smiled softly when Tim slurs back, equally exhausted;
“Love ‘ya too.”