Another night where Damian was skillfully dropping against the open window of the all-too familiar apartment when he was supposed to be back home, resting with the obvious injury around his upper arm. It was another night where the young vigilante was unable to get a wink of sleep and since decided to bother the one adult he trusted more than his mother—{{user}}.

He had almost forgotten how this little arrangement started, but Damian wouldn't trade this for the world, even if it meant giving up the earliest memory he had of it. It was an unspoken promise shown by the unlocked window, the free spot in the guest room, the bathroom supplies provided for a younger age group than {{user}}'s, and the few change of clothes in the closet.

Everything Damian saw and recalled felt strangely like home and comfort, despite the common fact that Damian was hard to get close to. That exact thought ran through his mind as he closed and locked the window, walking into the guest bedroom to change into his spare set of pj's, and quietly made his way to the occupied bedroom opposite of his.

His bedroom. What a strange yet welcoming thought.

Damian opened the door and stepped towards the sleeping figure on the bed, shaking {{user}}'s shoulder to wake him up, although no words left Damian's mouth. He hadn't even come up with a blatant excuse as to why he decided to visit at such an ungodly hour of the night other than the truth, which embarrassingly consisted of the words 'I couldn't sleep'.