Comforter

The ability to wake at the faintest whisper of sound was one of those talents that Robins picked up over time and Tim had always been a light sleeper anyway. Because of this, when the door to his room creaked open in the night, he was already awake and readying himself to deal with the intruder. After all, Dick would have come through the window, Bruce wouldn't have let the door creak and Alfred... Alfred's gentle presence wouldn't have woken him in the first place.

So this was a stranger. In his room. In his home.

Carefully keeping his body limp, Tim listened to his surroundings. Any information he could gather about the stranger would be an advantage. There was one other person in the room, about two feet away. He could take them down... but that breathing sounded familiar.

Tim cracked an eye open.

"Bart."

The other teen yelped and flailed backward in surprise.

"Ohmig-"

In a flash, Tim had sat up and clapped a hand over Bart's mouth.

"Shh! You'll wake everyone else up!"

Bart's eyes widened even more as he nodded emphatically.

"Mmfmy- I'll be quiet."

Shyly, he ducked his head and kicked at the ground with his toe.

"Sorry to wake you up."

Tim ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

"It's okay, I guess just- Bart, why are you here?"

"Um, I just, you know..."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Bart, if I knew, I wouldn't be asking."

Bart fiddled with his the hem of his shirt, avoiding eye contact.

"I, uh, I was sot of checking on you. And everyone else too! Just... you came first, I guess. I mean, I sorta just needed to make sure that everyone's still around and I worry about you more because everyone else has powers except you and I know you're really smart and all, but sometimes that's not enough because Max was smart and he had powers and then-"

Bart halted in his tracks and bit his lip, visibly slumping.

"I just... I really needed to make sure you were still here and not... gone."

Tim blinked. Bart's explanation made a surprising amount of sense.

I should have expected this sort of behaviour, considering the trauma we've all been through, Bart especially.

Taking Tim's silence to be negative, Bart stumbled on, nervously wringing the hem of his shirt in his hands.

"But, I mean, I know you don't like people coming around and I'll stop, I just-"

"No."

Tim ran his hand through his hair again and took a deep breath.

"No, it's- it's really fine, Bart. It's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"... okay."

"So, um..." Tim smiled hesitantly at Bart. "Are you cold?"

"Um, not really..." Suddenly Bart perked up as he got the question underneath the question. "But I can be? If you'd like?"

"I'd like." Tim yawned and patted his sheets in invitation. "Really."

"Then shove over a little, 'cause I'm freezing my toes off here!"

Tim laughed and scooted over a little while Bart eagerly clambered into the bed with him, snuggling under the warmth of the blankets. Tim hissed when the other boy's cold feet slid down his calves.

"Geez Bart, watch where you put those!"

"Well I did tell you I was freezing! And you're so warm!"

Tim groaned.

"That doesn't mean that you have to stick your icicle feet all over me!"

"Sorry."

Tim sighed resignedly and rolled onto his stomach, pulling a pillow over his head.

"Don't worry about it. Just go to sleep Bart."

Both boys quieted and settled down, but barely a minute had passed, before the sheets rustled and Bart's whisper broke the silence.

"Hey, uh... Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Somewhere a clock ticked, its steady beat counting down to morning.