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Inside Wayne Manor, everything was quiet as Tim sat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee between his palms. Bruce was in the living room across the hall, listening to the news playing on the large TV screen, and Tim could hear what the reporters were saying.
"It seems that tonight Gotham will face one of her worst thunderstorms. We advise that anyone outdoors find shelter."
Muting the TV, Bruce let it mindlessly play as he glanced behind him when he heard soft footsteps near the chair where he was sitting. "Can't sleep?" He asked, watching Tim round the couch and sit on the middle cushion.
"No, I'm trying to finish an assignment for school," Tim sighed, setting his empty mug on the coffee table, and leaned back on the couch. "Where's Damian?" Tim asked, wondering where his seven-year-old little brother was.
"Alfred put him to bed," Bruce hummed, getting up from his chair and patting Tim's shoulder, "Try to get some sleep, Tim."
Glancing up at his father, Tim nodded and watched Bruce walk off. Turning his attention to the TV, Tim watched as the muted screen played the nightly news. Tim knew what they were talking about when he saw the burning building on Nightwood Street. The patrol that night was awful, and Tim couldn't help but feel ashamed that he, Robin, was the one that caused the fire, even if it was an accident caused by a fight with a villain. "We all make mistakes, Master Timothy," Alfred spoke, turning off the TV and patting Tim's shoulder.
"But I feel like I could have prevented it, Alfred," Tim argued.
"You may have been able to, young sir. But you are a human being and one person. There's only so much you can do, my boy," Alfred hummed, picking up Tim's empty coffee mug from the wood table, "Come now, head to bed. It's late."
"But Alfred, I have to finish my assignment for class-"
"No buts, I won't have it. Bed, now," Alfred pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. Alfred watched Tim grumble under his breath and head up to his room for the night.
Dragging his feet through the halls, Tim walked to his bedroom and pushed the door open. He wasn't surprised to find his laptop gone from his desk. Alfred had recently acquired a new nightly routine of taking Tim's laptop before bed, so Tim wouldn't go on it instead of sleeping. He also switched Tim's coffee to decaf, which Tim did not appreciate.
After changing into pajamas, Tim yawned as he climbed into his bed. When had his bed become so comfortable? He wasn't sure, but as Tim laid his head against his pillow and pulled the covers over his body, the exhaustion he didn't know was there finally crept up on him. As he drifted off to sleep, Tim swore he heard a clap of thunder echo through the manor, but Tim didn't know if he imagined it or not.
___
It was 2 AM when Damian was startled awake by a loud clap of thunder that sounded too close to the manor. Damian's heart thumped in his chest at increasing speeds as the lightning illuminated his bedroom, the shadows of tree branches crawling across his bedroom walls. Hugging his stuffed elephant to his chest, Damian hid under the covers and buried his face into the soft fabric of his stuffed animal.
Quiet whimpers and sniffles filled his bedroom as his body flinched with each clap of thunder that echoed in the sky, and then, they suddenly stopped. Damian opened his eyes and silently listened for thunder, but nothing came. Pushing the covers off, Damian sat up and glanced out the window by his bed. The world must have thought it was funny to scare him because when he came out from his hiding place, another clap of thunder greeted him as it shook the manor. A frightened cry slipped from Damian's lips as he clutched his stuffed animal and booked it for the door. Pushing the door open, Damian wandered into the long hallway and glanced around, "Daddy?" Damian called, searching for his father as he roamed the halls.
Damian walked down the manor steps, roaming into the manor's ballroom. His stuffed elephant stayed clutched in his hand as his bare feet padded against the marble flooring, "Daddy? Alfred?" Damian called out, peeking his head into the library. No one was inside, so he moved on.
As each clap of thunder rumbled through the manor, Damian's shoulders tensed as he continued his journey. Seeing the kitchen light on, Damian stalked toward the room and peeked inside. Thinking he'd find Alfred inside, he was surprised to find Timothy searching the cabinets like a madman, "Where is it?" Tim hissed, searching for the caffeinated coffee. Earlier that night, he found where Alfred hid his laptop, and he set on finishing that assignment. "Timmy?"
Gasping, Tim twirled around when a small voice called out from behind him. Standing on the stool, Tim stared down at his little brother, that was staring up at him with big, curious green eyes. "Damian! What are you doing out of bed? It's late," Tim gasped, jumping down from the stool and rounding the kitchen island to meet his seven-year-old brother.
"I couldn't sleep," Damian mumbled, hugging his stuffed animal and looking down at the tiled kitchen floor, "The thunder is scary."
"Aw, Dames," Tim frowned, crouching down to grab Damian and pick him up.
"Why are you up?" Damian asked, laying his head against Tim's shoulder as he let his big brother carry him around the kitchen, watching Tim close all the cabinets and put the stool back where it was supposed to go.
"I was looking for something, but I think it's time to go to bed now," Tim answered, shutting off the kitchen light and heading upstairs. Damian didn't say anything. Instead, he buried his face in Tim's shoulder and listened to the rain tap against the manor's roof. "Thunderstorms are scary, but the rain is nice," Tim smiled, patting Damian's back as he walked into his room, and decided he'd let Damian sleep with him tonight. Nodding his head in agreement, Damian yawned as Tim sat him on the bed before climbing onto it. Getting comfortable, Tim pulled Damian to his side and pulled the covers over them as he listened to the thunder in the distance. "Timmy?"
Glancing down at Damian, Tim hummed in acknowledgment as he wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him close, "What, Dames?"
Burying his face into his stuffed animal, Damian snuggled into Tim's chest and closed his eyes as the soft rain pitter-pattering against the window lulled him to sleep. He mumbled softly, "Love you."
Smiling, Tim rested his chin against the top of Damian's head and closed his eyes, "Love you too, Dames."
___
The following morning Alfred found Bruce frantically running around like there was a fire, "Alfred! Alfred, I can't find Damian!" Bruce yelled, looking in the broom closet.
"Master Bruce, please calm down," Alfred sighed, halting the chopping of the carrots on the cutting board as he set down the knife.
"I can't! I don't know where he is!"
Rolling his eyes, Alfred sighed again and took off his apron, "The Young Master is currently sleeping with young Timothy, sir."
That seemed to halt Bruce's antics, and he paused, "Oh..." His brain processed the information as he went up the stairs and through the halls until he stopped in front of Tim's bedroom door. It was an odd thing. Damian wasn't ever very fond of Tim. If anything, Damian started showing more curiosity in Tim just recently. Turning the knob and pushing the door open, Bruce peeked inside. Laying on the bed, Tim was fast asleep with Damian snuggled between his arms. Bruce felt like Dick when he pulled out his phone and took a picture, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't every day he'd see such a cute and unusual moment between Tim and Damian. Seeing them together was an odd thing but welcome. And Bruce hoped that Damian and Tim's relationship would continue to grow so that they would grow closer.