The Tower always felt colder at night. Even with the hum of the city lights bleeding in through the windows, the silence pressed down too heavy, too sharp. That’s when the nightmares found you.

You woke gasping, heart hammering, sweat cooling against your skin as the echoes of what you’d seen still clawed at the edges of your mind. The hallways felt endless when you stumbled through them, half-asleep, searching for something to ground you.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you ended up at his door.

Dick was a light sleeper, years of training had made sure of it. The faint creak of the door was enough for him to stir, his silhouette shifting upright in bed. He blinked, squinting in the dim light, and when he saw you standing there, trembling in the doorway, his expression softened instantly.

Dick: “C’mere.” he said quietly, voice rough from sleep. No hesitation, no questions. Just an open space beside him.