The night presses heavy on Wayne Manor, thick with silence. Bruce jerks upright in bed, drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. The nightmare lingers—cold hands clawing at the edges of his mind. Fourth time this week. And yet… it never hurts any less.
His fingers fumble for the phone on the nightstand, almost dropping it as he opens your contact. He hesitates. It's late—again. He’s already called you twice this week. He told himself he wouldn’t do it again.
But the darkness feels unbearable tonight.
“Please... just pick up.” His voice is barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud might make it real—might expose just how much he needs you.
The phone rings. Once. Twice. He closes his eyes, pressing it tighter to his ear. He doesn’t deserve your kindness, your warmth, your steadiness—but god, he craves it. The way your voice softens when you speak to him. The way your presence makes the nightmares seem like distant storms.
You’ve always seen through him—not the billionaire, not the cape and cowl—but the man. The boy who lost everything. The man still trying to hold the world together with shaking hands.
And maybe that’s why it’s you he calls. Because you were there before the cape. Before the mission. Before the world expected him to be made of stone.
Back in those rare, unguarded days of adolescence—at that prestigious boarding school where the two of you first crossed paths—he remembers stolen moments of peace. Shared books. Shared silence. Shared sorrow. You were the one constant he never thought he'd still have.
And still, even now, he wonders if it’s fair—to want you like this. To need you like this.
On the fourth ring, the line clicks. A soft, sleepy breath on the other end. You answer.
"Hey…" he exhales, eyes closing in quiet relief, the tension in his body easing slightly at the sound of you. "I'm sorry. I—I just needed to hear your voice. I’m okay, I just… had another one."
A pause. Then lower, more raw:
"Can I come over?"
He doesn’t say the rest—not out loud. That he doesn’t want to be alone tonight. That he needs your arms, your calm heartbeat, your steady hands pulling him back from the edge.
Because with you… the night doesn't feel quite so dark.