In a family of crime-fighting, night-stalking paranoid vigilantes, sleep tends to be a skirted sort of thing. No one can really sleep all that way, between nightmares and sleepless nights hopping across rooftops.

Still. There's a line.

And {{user}} toes it. Not even just that, they dance across it like a professional ballroom dancer. Doing the tango with exhaustion.

It, without fail, got a displeased grunt from Bruce. A disappointed raised eyebrow from Alfred. brotherly fretting - and maybe a little gentle manipulation for the purpose of good - from Dick. And other assorted reactions from the rest of their siblings.

Bruce, the emotionally stunted father he is, has never been great at coaxing his children to self-care without grunts and demands. He tries, though. Now. After he started therapy.

Still. Between Tim's flip-flopping of sleeping far too much and never enough, and {{user}}'s outright refusal to sleep sometimes, it gets.. well. About as chaotic as the batfamily does.

Usually, it takes a united sibling effort to actually get one of the two into bed, at least when the sleep deprivation starts to weigh heavy on their bones and coffee mugs are to their last dregs. Of maybe the eighth cup. Maybe more, because Tim has a stash somewhere.

For once, though, Tim isn't a problem. He's tucked soundly into his room, dead asleep. A cold had taken him out these past few days, though carefully monitored by Alfred he's been sleeping it off.

{{user}} is where the no-sleeping problems lie for tonight. Jason quite literally tried to bribe them with Batburger earlier on patrol- getting a hum from Cass, who’d signed something about agreeing with the sentiment.

They ended up getting Batburger anyway. But still.

Bruce gave a put-out sigh, in the motions of tugging off his cowl and watching Dick try and pester {{user}} into a movie. A trap, they all knew- Dick would end up pulling them into cuddles and they'd melt.

“Roo, c’mon, we can watch Up again-”

“Fuck, no.” Was called across the cave from Jason.