#the amount of ridiculous research i put into the most minute details of a fic

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Drabble “Escape” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt has another request for Blaine ... one that may change the scope of their whole relationship thus far. (1758 words)

Notes: Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompts gradual/star, and home/gift. There are others in there, too. Part 3 of the fic “Doula”.

Read on AO3.

“G-go on vacation with me?”

“Hmm?” Blaine isn’t certain he heard Kurt speak. He’d been concentrating so hard on massaging Kurt’s legs - gradually inching his way from his left calf to his thigh, focusing on where his hands touched, with what amount of pressure … reflecting on how that skin felt against his lips minutes ago … that the words didn’t quite make sense.

“Go on vacation with me,” Kurt repeats. “Oh … unless your schedule is packed or something. I don’t know how busy you are, being a doula.”

“Being a doula doesn’t really take up too much of my time. It’s more of a side gig than a career,” Blaine explains, grabbing his bottle of massage lotion so he can start on Kurt’s right leg. “I’m still kind of finding myself. Luckily, I’m one of those fortunate few who doesn’t have to work, so it gives me plenty of time to explore.”

“Why is that?” Kurt asks, and bites his tongue immediately after. Shoot! He’d been so relaxed, he only asked to make small talk. He didn’t intend on being so thoughtless.

“I haven’t blown through my inheritance yet. Luck-y me.”

“Oh, Blaine …” Kurt looks back over his shoulder at Blaine, rubbing oil on his hands and returning to his massage. He remembers when Blaine’s parents died. They’d passed within a month of one another – his mom going first, then his dad when he realized he couldn’t live without her. On the one month anniversary of his wife’s death, he simply died in his sleep.

An undiagnosed cardiomyopathy.

In layman’s terms, a broken heart.

Kurt had received word when he was on tour in Europe. He tried to get away, but he couldn’t fly back to be there for Blaine. So he sent a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers to the funeral instead. It hadn’t dawned on Kurt to feel too guilty at the time since Blaine was engaged.

When Kurt’s father died the following year, Blaine was single again.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says. “I …”

“Kurt, considering your life right now, I’m not going to blame you if you don’t remember every little detail of mine.”

Kurt wants to object. He wants Blaine to know that he does remember, because Blaine’s life is important to him. Regardless of how he’s acted over the past decade, it’s always been important.

“I became a death doula because of them,” Blaine continues. “Because of what I went through after they died. There was so much I didn’t know about losing someone close to me until my mother passed away. My father wanted to take care of my mother himself, but everyone he talked to told him he couldn’t. But it wasn’t true. Watching how the funeral home handled it, how they talked to my father, what they tried to sell him on …” Kurt feels Blaine sigh, feels it seep into his skin. “It was disheartening, knowing that there are people in the world out to make a buck any way they can, and that funeral homes are no different. Having someone he loved more than life pass away, coming to them at his most vulnerable, those things didn’t protect my dad. So, I took over. Did some research, and had everything handled at home the way my dad wanted. The only thing we paid for was a burial plot in a green cemetery. I refused to turn my mother over to a stranger who was going to charge me thousands of dollars for a giant, non-biodegradable box we were going to stick into the ground. My parents didn’t want that.”

“That must have been so difficult,” Kurt says, remembering how he handled his father’s funeral.

He didn’t.

He wrote someone else a blank check and they did everything for him. No stress, no mess, and Kurt was grateful. It gave him the time he needed to focus on simply grieving the loss of his father. He didn’t feel particularly swindled or pressured by the funeral home he hired. Then again, the directors of the funeral homes in Lima had all been friends of his father. They could have bent over backwards for Kurt because he was Burt Hummel’s son.

But if that hadn’t been the case, if Kurt wasn’t wealthy or famous, would the experience have been the same?

“Dealing with the funeral industry was such an eye-opening experience. I knew there had to be other people who felt the same way I did, and I wanted to help spread awareness. But I didn’t want to become a mortician or anything like that. That’s when I decided that the best thing I could do would be to become a death doula. I took a course and now here I am. But I offer it as a service, only ask for what I need to cover expenses. Outside of my song writing, it gives my life purpose.”

“That makes sense,” Kurt says with a small smile. “It suits you.”

“Does it?” Blaine scrunches his nose. He thought it did. His brother and many of his friends seem to think it’s morbid. Cool, but morbid. He’s happy that Kurt approves, that it’s not a turn off for him. But it sounds strange to hear Kurt say it.

“A-ha. You’ve always been compassionate and nurturing. I often thought that if you didn’t become a musician, you might end up being a teacher.”

“Yeah, well, the only school I ever taught at burned down, so right away, that’s not a good sign.”

Kurt stifles a chuckle. He’d forgotten all about that. Back when it happened, it seemed like the end of the world – Dalton Academy, the place where he and Blaine first met, dying by fire. Years later, he’d mark it as a metaphor for their relationship. A foreshadowing even. But now, it’s simply a moment. One that they’d shared. A part of their history together.

And it felt good to remember it.

It would be nice to make a few new moments with Blaine.

“You know, Blaine, one good thing about being a star is that I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime. Especially my lifetime. And if I’m going to go, then I intend on using as much of it as I can to make sure that every minute is as memorable as possible. But it would be nice to have someone to share it with. And I know that we haven’t been an ‘us’ in a long time. We … we don’t even have to be an ‘us’. We can just be two good friends, traveling around the world together.”

Blaine slides forward, curling up beside Kurt. “I … I don’t know. That sounds … I don’t know how I would ever pay you back.”

Kurt smirks. “Blaine, that is the weirdest thing you could have said to me.”

“I … I know. I just … I don’t know what to say.”

“Blaine …” Kurt reaches up and runs slightly trembling fingers through his hair “… do you know how many friends I have?”

Images of Kurt with his entourage flash through Blaine’s head – the handsome men he’s been connected with over the years, even if those rumors have never been confirmed. At least they got to exist in the same space as Kurt while Blaine watched from his sofa. So many times he wished he could be one of them, not necessarily as a love interest.

He just missed Kurt so damned much.

“If I had to venture a guess, I’d say a lot.”

“A year ago, you’d be right. But the second everyone found out I had cancer, they all disappeared. And not one by one. En masse. People don’t know how to handle cancer. They want to hide from it, like they’re going to catch it. They don’t know what to say to you when you have it so they bury you early and move on with their lives. I don’t hold grudges against any of them. I really don’t. I remember what it was like when my mom had cancer, what she went through. Watching her go through that was excruciating. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. So if it’s better for them to distance themselves from me, then it’s better for me, too. I don’t want anyone resenting me. But I’m not at a point in my life where I want to make new friends … and I don’t think I can handle being alone.”

Blaine nods. It’s a thoughtful nod, but he remains quiet, and Kurt’s heart sinks into his roiling stomach. He doesn’t know what he thought Blaine would say after that. He had hoped he’d say yes, but that’s a lot for Kurt to expect. Maybe this is too much. After all, what does Kurt really have to offer? If his oncologist is right, he has 5 years maybe.

5 years isn’t a future. It’s a sick and twisted joke.

“I know I’m asking a lot. I know I keep saying that, and then I ask for more. I know that this would mean the world to me, but that you’re going to have to bear the burden of our memories when I’m gone. I’m sorry. I really am. The last thing I want is to hurt you. But our relationship, even with its flaws and imperfections, was the best of my entire life. In high school, you being with me was such a gift. It changed everything for me! My entire life! I’ve spent so much of the past ten years wondering how things would have been different if you and I stayed together. And I’m being selfish, asking you to play that out with me. I know what you must be thinking …”

“No,” Blaine says, “I don’t think you do.”

“I do!” Kurt insists, tears filling his eyes. “Because I know what I’d be thinking! Who the hell does he think he is? and Does he think he can get whatever he wants because he’s dying? and This was supposed to be one favor! I wasn’t looking to get back together with the jerk who ditched me for Broadw---“

Blaine quiets Kurt with a kiss. It’s not deep, not demanding, but it’s enough to get Kurt’s attention. Kurt sniffles as he kisses Blaine back, sure that this is Blaine’s way of saying goodbye.

“I was just thinking,” Blaine says, putting a hand on Kurt’s cheek, tracing the trail of his tears with his thumb, “when did you want to start?”

[nostalgic-blood]

so i went to california a few weeks ago and...

No, I didn’t go ham. I had friends who were like “HERE HAVE THIS” and then I had this thing, and later went to a convention and THEN I went ham. 

Also this was my first non-family trip so I sort of bought a souvenir anywhere I deemed important enough to do so... America, you took a lot of my money. Oh and Disneyland too. 

...also I couldn’t fit some things and forgot others in that top pic.

this wall scroll my cat is trying to destroy

a backpack I bought solely so I was able to even bring all this back, and the posters/prints I STILL needed a friend to ship back anyway...

and this cute koishi i bought, all of three of which were from fanime, yes...

Disneyland souvenirs! A friend (Souless) bought the one of the left. You may have noticed Minnie Mouse ears on the first photo! I didn’t actually get them from Disneyland itself, t’was a gift from our Disneyland veteran who led us to many-a-ride and the least amount of waittime possible, Souless’ fiance Kat. :)

And yes Inside Out is my favourite Pixar movie. Watched Coco recently which was really good, but it’s only second to Inside Out. P:

Let’s start off with my ridiculous friends who decided I needed to own more merch:

All of this was bought by my friend Cannibalfood AKA Akira who went to cons and saw stuff I might like but never got around to actually shipping them to me.. and then, came with me to California and brought this stuff. This is why Negima is on there. It’s been that long.

Oh the non-weeb stuff is souvenirs I got with her while we were in San Fran, including Alcatraz touristy photos since we have few pictures together, a taxidermy place where we each got matching stingray barbs, how romantic. The rock was my very first souvenir. I wasn’t expecting on buying anything else in that shop, so it is the most boring thing here.

Here’s a look at the Touhou artbooks!

One of two CDs, this one with best 2hu on it. I recall from reading the back that one of these has some TAMUSIC on it, which has lovely classical pieces. 

Here’s a semi-random page with some artwork. I recognize some of the artists!

The other one! I cannot read anything in these books, and yes there’s plenty of text as well as the art.

Some sample of the art! I’ll have to revisit these books later but from first glance I think I prefer the art of the first book? Idk.

Next is stuff given to me by various people. The gacha is from Magus, the guy who I stayed at for about half the trip and spent the entire trip WITH since he also went down to SLO and I also shared hotels with him for Fanime. Awesome host, will do again. 10/10. I have another button from someone else but I accidentally included it wit my fanime merch pile photos, so it’ll be along shortly.

The dreamcatcher was made by SlimeMush’s friend who I paid $10 for, and for some mysterious reason it kept being returned to him every time he tried to send it to me. I couldn’t get a good pic of it alone because my cat kept attacking the feathers. SlimeMush also gave me the Flareon button! Apparently all the Eeveelutions he had went to those whose favourite was so-and-so, and apparently there’s equal amounts of love for all of them except for the two he kept himself because he loved them the most. Yes. Flareon is my favourite. :D

The gacha is a ditto + a ditto version of Sableye. 

This Monster Hunter blindbox was given to me by Wolfe, whom I’ve had a few MonHun merch exchanges with so far. I also gave him a MonHun figure from another line, which I’ll elaborate further (because I gave them all out similar to SlimeMush giving out the Eeveelution buttons) and kept whichever was left behind. This is Monoblos! I didn’t fight him all too often so I don’t have much impression of it as a monster, also I thought he was white but w/e, still very cool looking to add to my collection!

Now of all my loot THIS is the stuff I really could have done without in terms of when and where I spent my money. I bought that Incineroar evolution line figure sort of on a whim at a random city in the middle of nowhere, California while on the long drive down to SLO. The Touhou blindboxes, Digimon CD, and RWBY manga came from Kinokuniya in Japantown. Just wanted to buy them because. Even if the Tri series was mediocre in the end the nostalgia still has a strong grip on my heart, especially that music with Kouji Wada. ;_;

And the most touristy thing was buying this wind chime at a gift shop in a spa that I really didn’t need but it was pretty so w/e.

See? Pretty.

The results of the blindboxes. Not the luckiest result as I wanted other characters but you CANNOT SAY NO TO WEEB MERCH!

As much as I have been distancing myself from the show, RWBY’s manga has wondrous art. It also decided to focus on some random unknown side character named Ruby instead of the main characters, which I thought while was quite the bold move, was rather refreshing. 

DELICIOUS WEISS BACKSTORY. I recall posting something about this particular chapter on here before. YEEEEE!

So yeah I went to the island prison in San Francisco where AAAAAALL the tourists go. In my defence I have a genuine interest in prisons. Just ask my 300k RWBY fanfiction in which the first quarter of it is set in a prison. It is also not my first prison fic. I put lots of research in that setting to write that kind of shit. 

Also all the souvenirs were the most gimmicky things possible that I didn’t think I’d ever use or would just be paperweight. Except this bag! I may actually use this bag! I know!

And excluding the stuff that is too big or I forgot to take a pic of near the beginning of the post, THIS was the Fanime loot! Magus got me the Monokuma onesie which was extremely nice of him and now I am no longer perpetually cold. Ah yes the warmth of the hide of a psychotic bear. So good.

I could not believe the artist who made one of my favourite Aya pics EVER was at the artist alley. I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. Obviously this was an instant purchase. This was my phone background for the longest of times. She had Touhou artbooks too but they sold in the first twenty minutes of the first day of the artist alley. Wow. My friend may try to snag me some at AX in July, so here’s hoping!

I didn’t see a lot of specifically Weiss prints there, and this was the best of the lot IMO. My only wish was that it was a brighter print, or that Weiss herself being so white would stand out more because it’s the least noticeable thing on my wall atm, which is a shame. 

I say this when I saw precisely ONE Aya print (jackpot) and one of another coming up in this bombardment of pics.

THIS IS PERHAPS THE MOST PROVOCATIVE ONE HERE LOL. But it was the only Tenko, and DRV3 merch was the most difficult of everything I was looking for to find. Unlike 95% of Tenko art SHE ACTUALLY HAS VISIBLE ABS HERE, which according to the official artbooks she’s supposed to have, so bonus points for that. I had a brief discussion with the artist too and we both agreed Tenko was the best and Ouma was overrated. He has great taste.

Overwatch on the other hand was all over the place in this con, from merch to art, to cosplayers. There were so many cosplayers they didn’t even have enough time to run through half of the tanks and all the supports at the shoot! So sad, so sad. This piece of Widowmaker is beautiful though, so I had to have it.

I saw this online a while back and really loved this image of all the Overwatch ladies being formal. There was a suit-version too, but for whatever reason I preferred this one. Sadly this print is quite small, as it probably would have benefited the most in being larger what with the many characters and thus detail.

Out of all this mess the one thing I wanted the most and hunted for the most was charms. I found NO GOOD CHARMS that fitted my taste and interest, and the closest were these buttons. Oh, and I met my good friend Raphyninja at Fanime and he gave me EXCLUSIVE RAPHYNINA MERCH! Thus that button being here and not in the friendo pile. ANYWAY. There was a deal, 3 for 5, so aside from the obvious ones I grabbed Kork. I love Kork. I didn’t think I would for that type of character, but somehow DRV3 managed it. He will of course be very far away from Tenko and Himiko though. >_>

Here’s a page from one of the Touhou doujins I got, which in hindsight I maybe should not have got? Way too late I noticed that I recognized the seller who I think showed up on a Tumblr post warning of a creeper at the Touhou shoots. He’d try to take pics of cosplayers in a private hotel room at weird, uncomfortable angles as far as I remember, so uh, oops? I was just so excited at finding Touhou doujin for the first time ever that I paid zero attention to the person selling so hopefully I am wrong and they were just someone that resembled that person.

Also I recognized this artist for their cute Satori Koishi content, but could not find any of their Koishi doujins. Sadness.

I bought two Monster Hunter blindboxes at Fanime because CLEARLY I need more, right. I got a Nargacuga, including the box left remaining in the pile I gave away and the one I already have...  I now have three Nargacugas. That’s quite a lot for something I never fought before...

I also got this tiny Zinogre. If we include my buttons I have FOUR Nargacugas now and FOUR Zinogres. The difference is I have fought Zinogre multiple times (I have no idea exactly because I have 600 hours in 4U >_>) and actually really like him! Sadly, in grand tradition like the last time I visited San Francisco (when I was five) I lost something, that being my favourite MonHun button, Zinogre. It is now in the wild with my teddy bear and my hat, forever gone in the California abyss. ):

I got this at the swap meet for 6 dollars. It may not have a stand and is rather dusty, but damn is that a bargain. My only regret is not having the GIGA DRILL BREAKAAAA model instead. I also got that Monokuma bag there too, but that was just because I went there and couldn’t find a single thing I wanted until I saw the bag, which I was on the fence on but wanted to buy SOMETHING from there and got it, thinking that was it ... but then this and the Touhou doujins showed up, soooooo...

Finally this other Nargacuga that was left behind became my monster in that line of figures, the rest in the hands of my friends. It’s actually cuter than I expected, and barely fit in this cheap crappy display case I bought at a Daiso. I moved my dresser a nudge and the Pokemon fell over, so yeah. 

You may have noticed a drop in quality in the photos and that’s because I cannot be bothered to touch up such a gargantuan amount of images anymore, not with the time I have. Would be nice tho. SO, THAT IS THE GIANT POST OF SPOTTO’S MERCH, NOW WITH 100% MORE QUANTITY THAN BEFORE! I spent too much money so I might as well get something out of it by BRAGGING about it! Right? 

Ye.

[danyka-fendyr]

Sleep is For the Week

Big thanks to Tumblr user @tantalum-cobalt for inspiring me on my main account @rmswiftie13 to write this! This is just a short fic I wrote about Damian and Tim doing some brotherly bonding.

Word count: 2378

Tim Drake was not too proud to admit he had some issues. Some less open-minded individuals might even call them problems. However, Tim was an intellectual, and therefore could recognize at 5:00 AM on a Tuesday, watching the sunrise on a digital screen showing a view of the woods outside the manor that he had set up when Steph had asked when the last time he saw the sun was, that not sleeping for 8 days straight and not eating for 3 was really more of an issue than a problem. Tim knew this because Tim had been solving a problem for those 8 days, 5 hours, 23 minutes and 52 seconds. If anyone knew what a problem was, it was Tim.

No, Tim Drake didn’t have any problems except the one he was currently working on. He couldn’t figure out how Bane was doing it, but somehow he was managing to get a new and apparently enhanced form of his special little strength elixir through Tim’s carefully constructed screening system. Technically it was the GCPD’s screening system, but Tim may have nudged them along by dropping a fully formed plan into Commissioner Gordon’s inbox using an anonymous email account. Not to say that Jim didn’t know exactly who was responsible for the new low in drug-trafficking currently occurring in Gotham city. Jim Gordon was good at knowing things quietly though.

Tim hadn’t figured out exactly how enhanced Bane’s new serum was, and he wouldn’t be able to until he got his hands on some of it, which was another thing bothering him. He had some idea though since Bane had used it to knock Bruce straight out of commission for the past 8 days, 5 hours, 26 minutes and 34 seconds. Let’s just say there were a lot of broken bones involved. A ridiculous amount really.

That was why Tim was currently sitting here, working on overdrive. Dick was dealing with something in Blüdhaven. The details eluded him at this particular stage of caffeine-driven sleep deprivation. Jason was off with the outlaws doing goodness knows what, but probably involving murder on some level. Steph and Cass checked in on him occasionally, but they were a bit preoccupied, Steph with helping Dick and Cass with helping Alfred watch over Bruce, who was being particularly difficult.

That left Damian. Tim wasn’t worried about Damian interrupting him though. When given the option, the demon-brat avoided Tim like a vampire avoided daylight. So Tim was left in peace, except for the nightly patrol where he and Damian tried to avoid speaking. They couldn't afford to get into too many arguments, spread as thin as they were, so it was better to just not talk at all.

A steady dripping sound filled the cave, a peaceful background to Tim’s research. His fingers clicked steadily across the keys, and his background ambiance audio was helping him stay focused. Or so he thought.

As it turned out, the classical music combined with the sounds of a storm, the dripping off some stalactite in the back of the cave, and the steady thrumming of his fingers on the keyboard may have been a little too calming. Tim’s fingers began to slow as his eyes began to droop. In a last-ditch effort, he reached for his coffee thermos, only to find it empty. He idly wondered how that had happened, closing his eyes in annoyance. He only meant to close them for a moment, but once they were closed it just felt so nice.

All he wanted to do was drift out of his tired, aching, throbbing body that had been screaming in protest at him all week. His eyes itched and burned even while closed, his stomach churned, his head hurt and his limbs ached. Before he fully knew what was happening, brain slowing down to match the speed of molasses, Tim Drake was asleep.

Damian was bored. No, bored was an understatement. The understatement of the century. If he didn’t find something to do, he was going to stab someone. Speaking of stabbing people, what was Drake up to?

Damian figured he was probably in the cave, and if Damian was lucky, his guard would be down. A prime target for stabbing. Perhaps torture, if the opportunity presented itself.

Damian made his way down to the cave, at first confused by the echoing sounds bouncing off the walls. He couldn’t understand why on earth someone was playing classical music in here without headphones. It was an unspoken rule of the Batcave that if you were going to listen to music you should probably do it with headphones since sound resonated all too well. The answer became clear to him though when he took a few steps further.

Drake was lying crumpled in a desk chair, his body in a pathetically grotesque position. Headphones hung halfway off his head, the cord jerked out of the computer by some movement in his sleep. One arm was folded between his waist and his legs, and it looked like he was probably losing blood flow to it. The other dangled lazily down to his toes, fingertips brushing the floor, while his head was buried awkwardly between his knees, neck twisted in some inhuman fashion.

“Drake, as much as I would like to see you in pain, I need you to have my back on patrol tonight. Wake up, or I assure you, you will not have to feel my wrath to understand the meaning of pain. Though I shall provide more, no doubt,” Damian added.

Tim didn’t stir. He didn’t even move a single muscle, other than to breathe. Damian wondered if maybe someone had put something in Tim’s coffee, but then he realized that someone would have had to be him since no one else had the time for that kind of devious micro-managing. That was certainly one way to get Drake to sleep.

“Drake!” Damian called his name louder this time.

Still no response. He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. It would seem there was only one option left to him.

Damian crossed the room, pushing Tim up by his shoulders into something that resembled a sitting position. He was heavier than Damian expected him to be, still in his Red Robin suit that he hadn’t changed out of from patrol. Carefully, Damian hefted him halfway over his shoulder. He stumbled slightly, taken aback by the sheer muscle mass of the older boy. He knew on a subconscious level that Drake had to be strong to some extent, but he hadn’t thought about how much time Drake probably actually spent working on maintaining that strength, or the weight that would result from that behavior.

Damian dragged Tim along, refusing to bow under his weight. Tim still hadn’t stirred, fast asleep. Curse Drake and his dangerous sleeping habits. Didn’t he know he could get Damian killed?

Eventually, after much dragging but certainly no sweating, panting, or any other signs of large amounts of effort, the 13-year-old managed to get his older brother into bed. The only problem now was that it was not Tim’s bed, but  Damian’s.

Bruce’s room was the closest to the cave, naturally. He had to be there at any given time during the day, or the night for that matter, so it only made sense. However, Bruce was currently occupying his room, so it wasn’t like Damian could drop his load off there. The next closest room just so happened to be his.

He had demanded it under the pretense that, as the heir to the mantle of Batman, he ought to be just as close, if not more so, to the cave than his father was. It definitely had nothing to do with the nightmares that had plagued him since his death or the fact that the room had belonged to Grayson in previous years and perhaps was capable of bringing Damian such paltry feelings as peace and comfort. No, his reasons were purely practical.

So there Drake lay, diagonal on Damian’s Superman comforter, a gift from Jon. It was a stupid gift, but he never knew when Jon would be visiting, so he thought it best to keep it on at all times so as not to hurt the feelings of his overemotional...ally. Constant vigilance was important. Almost as important as making sure to stay on the good side of one of the most powerful families in the universe. It was an intelligent political move on Damian’s part, of course.

Damian’s hands came to rest on his hips as he stared at Drake, surveying his conundrum. The true heart of the problem was not that Drake was on his bed. No, the real dilemma here was that, after lugging Drake up a few flights of stairs and placing him on his bed, Damian was not tired, exactly. No. He just thought it might be prudent to rest and make sure he was up to his full strength for patrol tonight.

Of course, Damian could only see one way of getting any sleep right now. He refused to use a bed that wasn’t his own since that would be admitting defeat, something Damian never did. Instead, he would simply have to share the bed with Drake.

Moving him again wasn’t an option since Damian didn’t want to strain any muscles that could be vital in his role as the next Batman. He had a responsibility as the blood son. With that in mind, Damian moved to the far end of the bed, as far from Drake as he could get, and went to sleep.

When Tim woke up, his first thought was that he was not in the Batcave. Slowly, he assessed his surroundings. The first thing he registered was warmth. Radiating out from somewhere near his chest, there was something providing heat.

Tim looked down to see a shock of dark hair, messy with sleep. His first instinct was confusion, unsure who exactly was sleeping curled into his side. He shifted slightly to get a better look at their face, and nearly cried out when it was Damian.

The young boy’s long dark lashes brushed his high cheekbones, eyelids fluttering lightly from some dream and obscuring his sharp green eyes. He had his arms wrapped in on himself, knees pulled up to his chest, back pressed firmly against Tim’s own chest.

Tim was just going to quietly sneak out of the room, already sitting up halfway, when he heard something. A quiet groan slipped out of Damian’s mouth, so low Tim almost missed it. The noise got louder, whimpers now, gut-wrenching in their vulnerability.

Tim almost left it, knowing that the last person Damian would want to see waking up from a nightmare was him. When Damian cried out sharply though, Tim knew he couldn’t leave him like this. He didn’t have the heart to wait for someone else to help the demon brat. He may be annoying, but he was still Tim’s baby brother, and he looked tiny and fragile lying on his Superman blanket in the dim room, curled in on himself.  He was protecting his core, the very same place Tim knew a large scar lay, one that marked more than just an injury.

He reached out, shaking Damian’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Tim whispered harshly. “Hey, kid. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Slowly, Damian stirred, the strangled noises coming out of his mouth fading.

“Drake?” Damian asked, blinking and revealing his hazy green eyes. “How did you get in...never mind. Go away Drake, I’m sleeping.”

The tiny boy turned onto his side, away from his brother. Tim knew better than to think that he was just going back to sleep. He had seen the sheen of tears in his brother's eyes before he had rolled over, and he knew what he was hiding.

“You were having a nightmare,” Tim said.

“I’m fine now. You may leave,” Damian muttered.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asked softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I will be quite alright, Drake. I assure you I shall be more than competent on tonight’s patrol.”

Damian’s voice was terse, but he couldn’t hide what Tim knew. With his pale hand on the boy’s dark shoulder, he could feel the slight shudders running through Damian’s body. Without pausing to ask, or to consider the possible effects on his own health, Tim scooped Damian up and placed him in his lap. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around the little boy and held him close.

“You don’t have to talk about it. I know I’m not close to you like Dick, and I can’t relate like Jason. Just...don’t do this alone. You don’t want to be alone, Damian. Trust me.”

There was a moment of silence, the feeling of it thick in the room, like the tight feeling in the back of Tim’s throat.

“Very well. I shall allow you to stay on one condition. Go back to sleep Drake. I can’t have you collapsing in the middle of a fight. You’re already a disaster enough as it is when you’ve had enough sleep, you had best not get me killed in a situation that could have been completely avoidable,” Damian said.

“Yeah, okay kid,” Tim said, lying back down with Damian still held tightly in his grasp.

“And you will eat something as well. Not that you need it. You are incredibly heavy, do you know that Drake?” Damian grumbled, wiggling so that he was more comfortable.

“Sure. Whatever you say, Damian,” Tim said, grinning to himself.

“Now go to sleep Drake,” Damian commanded.

As it turned out though, he didn’t need to tell Drake to fall asleep. He had already done just that, his breathing settling into a steady, slow rhythm. Damian felt his own breathing slow too, and before he knew it he had joined his older sibling.

When Bruce would finally convince Alfred to let him out of bed for the first time in over a week, he would be surprised when he went to check on his youngest only to find him sleeping, curled up underneath the cape of his third son. He smiled, closing the door as he turned to head back to bed. Not, however, before he had time to snap a pic to send to his eldest in Blüdhaven. Dick was going to love this.