"you okay?" tim frowned, gently rubbing your back. it wasn't often you sought out his comfort, but when you had padded up to his room in the middle of the night and cracked the door open to reveal your messy hair, red eyes and tear-stained cheeks— he knew something was wrong.

he was quick to bundle you up in his blankets, his fingertips either running along your spine or through the ends of your hair.

tim understood that being the newest ward of bruce wayne wasn't easy; each of his adoptive children had their own heavy pasts, each bearing their own trauma. seemed you were no different.

on a different note, tim was happy you had sought him out. he was a safe space to come to, and it seemed all that effort he put in to be a decent “older brother” to you, was working.

"hey," he murmured, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze before offering a gentle smile, "talk me, kiddo."