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Damian sat bolt upright in bed, gasping out loud. He could still feel Scarecrow’s claws dragging down his arm, trying to grasp him as he ducked away. Several drops of sweat slowly made their way down his back, and he clutched his stuffed bear tightly.
Over the past several weeks, Damian had found out that he was, in fact, still capable of having nightmares. The fact frustrated him greatly, and he tried to distance himself from it by referring to them as “acute mental disturbances”. The first time it had happened (which was the first time in his memory he had had a dream that didn’t end in him slaying his foe), he tiptoed to Bruce’s bedroom, where he stood outside the door for several minutes before deciding it was worth bringing it to his father’s attention.
This time, however, Father was out on patrol (without him). That meant that he had two options: he could stay in his room and hope he was able to fall back asleep in time to wake up for school, or he could find Alfred or one of his siblings and wake them up. Damian balked at the idea of disturbing Alfred’s precious few hours of rest and immediately excluded him. That left his siblings who had stayed home from patrol for one reason or another: Tim, Cass, and Jason. Tim was out as well: his stupid, overachieving (hardworking) brother had only recently returned from a 72-hour stakeout, and he was probably in the middle of sleeping off the resulting caffeine crash. That left Cass and Jason. Out of the two, Damian knew that Jason also had regular acute mental disturbances, and that they made him feel a similar level of fear (at least, evidenced by his older brother’s recent struggles with flashbacks related to his murder at the hands of the Joker). Also, Cass may not even be in her room, given her propensity for staying up all night studying obscure martial arts forms to relax.
His mind made up, Damian got out of bed, his stuffed Gloomy Bear (complete with drawn-on angry eyebrows; Gloomy Bear was a more accurate representation of the savagery that bears were capable of, unlike the sanitized versions that most children were given when they were young) clutched to his chest. He crept down the hall, constantly checking behind him in case Dr. Crane was waiting in the shadows and was grabbing for him, until he reached Jason’s door.
Damian stood outside his brother’s door for much longer than he had outside his father’s. He spent the whole time trying to convince himself that going back to sleep was the right choice, and that Jason wouldn’t be as helpful and comforting as he had hoped; he knew it was untrue, as Jason had been kind and empathetic in similar situations in the past without making him feel like a baby for asking for reassurance, but Damian still felt the need to defend his strength to his own brain.
Sighing, he pushed open the door, using all of his training in stealth to make his way to his brother’s bedside without a sound. Reaching down, he placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, who was laying on his side with his head resting on his bent arm, facing Damian. When he didn’t wake up, Damian shook him and whispered, “Jason”. When he still didn’t stir, Damian started to breathe quicker and shook Jason’s shoulder harder, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. “What if Crane got to Jason first, and then was going to go after the rest of the family?”
Jason finally blearily opened his eyes, annoyance starting to rise in his face. However, it disappeared the second his eyes landed on Damian clutching his Gloomy Bear.
“Hey Littlewing, what’s up?”
“I had an acute mental disturbance, Todd, and I find myself unable to go back to sleep.” Damian stared over his brother’s shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes in case there was pity there.
“It’s alright, Babybird, I have nightmares too. C’mon in.” Jason scooted back, closer towards the far side of the bed, and held the blankets up for Damian to slip under.
Damian climbed in and burrowed into his brother, mumbling into his chest.
“Scarecrow was chasing me, trying to pull me towards him, and Father didn’t try to help me.” Damian squeezed his eyes shut, cursing the tears threatening to spill out from under his eyelids.
“That sounds really scary,” Jason murmured, his chin resting on top of Damian’s dark hair. “I had one last night where the Joker took me while we were on patrol, and Bruce called to say that he didn’t want me back because I got myself caught.” Jason’s voice cracked, and Damian could feel Jason’s chest expand rapidly against his back.
Awkwardly, Damian wrapped his arms around his brother and squeezed.
“I’m sorry, that sounds very disturbing. I know he would never do that, but I understand that that may not make you feel better.”
“And you know Bruce would never abandon you because you got caught. Hell, he would burn down Gotham City if Crane took you. And you’re a kid, Damian. It’s ok to ask him for reassurance, and to ask him to look out for you on patrol. I mean, I still ask him to watch out for me, especially when the Joker is around, and I know everyone else asks too. He’s our dad, he loves knowing that we want him to protect us while we’re fighting the bad guys. And Alfred looks out for all of us. So just remember that you’re not doing it alone, Dami, and we’ve all got your back.”
After several seconds of silence, Damian replied, “Thank you, Todd” in a small voice.
“Anytime, Littlewing. Now, let’s get some sleep. And don’t worry about Crane, I’ll make sure no one gets you while you’re asleep.”
“Thank you, Todd. Goodnight."
“Goodnight, Littlewing.” Jason’s arms tightened around Damian, and Damian let himself relax, matching his breathing to Jason’s and letting himself slip into sleep.