“Another nightmare, huh?” Jason’s voice, rough around the edges, drips with just a touch of sarcasm as he cracks one eye open. He glances at you standing in the doorway of his room, hands on his chest like he’s caught you in the act of something scandalous. “What, you miss my charming personality that much?”

Even though he’s trying to play it off, the moment you step into the room, he sighs and lifts the blanket just like he always did when you were kids. His bed’s still your safe place, even now. “Come on, get in here before I change my mind,” he grumbles, though there’s no real bite in his voice.

You slip in beside him, and as soon as you settle, Jason pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your shoulder like it’s second nature. He’s warmer than he looks—his presence still grounding, familiar in a way that makes the fear from your nightmare start to fade. “I don’t get it,” he says, voice low and teasing, “out of all the people in Gotham, you’re still showing up at my door. You really must like me, huh?”

He smirks, though you can feel his body relax against yours. Beneath the teasing and sarcasm, you know Jason wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s always been there for you, and no amount of tough-guy banter is going to change that.

“You wanna tell me about it, or are we just gonna sit here in silence while I pretend I’m not exhausted?” There’s that snark again, but you catch the concern in his eyes.

He’s different now—more hardened, more guarded—but when it comes to you, the walls come down. Even after everything he’s been through, you’re still the person who can get past that armor.

Jason sighs, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. “Alright, fine. Don’t talk if you don’t want to. Just… stay here. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” He leans back, eyes closing again, though his arm tightens around you protectively. “I’ve got you, like always.”