A birthday fic for my best friend in the universe damthosefandoms on Tumblr. Happy birthday, Julie! Prepare for some Jason and Damian feels. :)

(I own nothing!)

Burning. All he could comprehend was horrible burning. Fire rushing through him, soaking into his entire being until it was all he could think about

The sharp sting of a sword being thrust through his chest. Looking horrified into the Heretic's eyes as he felt blood seep through his tunic and knew in his gut that they wouldn't be able to save him in time.

Feeling himself drifting and not being able to make it stop. Black creeping into his vision, the once excruciating sting from the sword being replaced by a dull numbness, hearing Grayson's voice screaming for him, and then-

Damian jolted awake just before the worst part of his nightmare. It took all he had not to cry out, but he soon realized that his threat felt sore, which probably meant he already had. He slowly sat up in bed, trembling. He clenched his clammy hands into fists, trying to calm himself.

It was just a dream, he told himself. You're stronger than this. Calm down now.

Damian's skin felt hot, and he felt tears drying on his cheeks. He scowled and rolled his eyes in disgust at himself. This wasn't the first time he'd had the Dream, but every time it happened he mentally scolded himself for his weakness.

Figured something had to get to him eventually, but he loathed the fact that it had to be this. His death...

Damian groaned. You should be stronger than this. You are stronger than this. Don't be a baby.

He was halfway through his self lecture before he heard footsteps outside his room. For a horrifying moment, he wondered if it was Grayson again. Whenever Damian had The Dream, Grayson somehow managed to always sense it through whatever big brother instincts he had.

Last week Grayson had heard him screaming and came to his room to comfort him, insisting that some "brother bonding" would help. Damian hated it.

He quickly prepared a scathing refusal of help in his head for when Grayson would inevitably burst into his room and insist on "helping." AKA cuddling Damian against his will for the rest of the night. Ugh.

But oddly enough, it wasn't Grayson at the door. The hand that knocked was much too heavy-sounding. And Grayson always knocked in (what he thought was) a fun rhythm. This person simply pounded the door three times. Odd. Damian hoped it wasn't Father. That would be embarrassing.

After a few seconds, the person at the door gave up and entered.

Damian narrowed his eyes when he recognized who the tall broad figure in his doorway was.

"Todd? What the hell are you doing in my room?"

Jason stood there in pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt. He had bags under his eyes, but he seemed alert. He held a pistol loosely in his hand, which, eyes narrowing, he slipped back into his pocket when he realized there was no threat.

"Sorry, kid. Heard screaming," he said. "I was all ready to blow someone's brains out, but I guess not."

Damian crossed his arms. "I wasn't screaming."

Jason rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Sure you weren't." But then his smug look shifted into one of poorly concealed concern.

He leaned against the door frame somewhat awkwardly, checking Damian over. "But uh, you're okay, right? Not like, dying or anything? I mean, I'd hate to be woken up five more times tonight because you're screaming like a banshee."

Damian scowled. "I'm fine, Todd," he hissed. "Just go away back to wherever you came from." A pause. "Why are you here, anyway? Last I checked you don't live here anymore."

"Late night on patrol. Didn't feel like going back to my place, so I just crashed here." He yawned. "Or at least I was until you decided wake me up with all your nightmare screeching."

"I said I didn't have a nightmare," Damian protested.

Jason held up his hands defensively. "Hey, you don't have to explain yourself to me, tough guy. I get it."

Damian eyes narrowed into slits. He really wanted to punch him in the face right now. Maybe he could get away with a palm-heel strike…

Jason scratched his ear, looking at the floor. "So, uh, now that I'm up, if you wanna talk or anything..."

Damian scowled. "I said I'm fine. Get out of my room."

"Listen, I hate being around you as much as you do me, but I know from experience that it majorly sucks having to suffer alone. So, since I'm already up, how about you shut up and let me be nice for once without complaining?"

"Or how about you shut up and get out of my room? I don't need to be coddled, and you hate me as much as I hate you. So go away."

Jason considered this for a moment. After a beat he sighed and turned around. "Follow me," he ordered over his shoulder.

Damian sat there confused. What? Where was he going to take him? He considered just locking his door and going back to sleep. But that plan was crushed in seconds when he remembered that Jason could easily pick the lock and drag him from his bed. And right now he just wasn't in the mood for a fight. He'd win of course, but his heart wouldn't be in it.

Deciding that the first option would save him more dignity, Damian slipped out of bed and padded out of the room. He found Jason down the hallway, and he followed him cautiously at a distance until they were at the front door.

"Tt, where are we going, Todd?" Damian was already grouchy enough; he didn't need to be dragged around like this all night. Especially not by Todd.

Jason tossed him his jacket and pulled on his own. "Out."

"Tell me where, otherwise I'm not going," Damian demanded.

Jason arched an eyebrow. "A place," he answered simply. "Now come on."

Damian balled his hands into fists. This annoying little... He sighed and threw on the jacket. Wherever they were going, it had better not be somewhere stupid.

"This place is stupid," Damian huffed.

He slouched down in the diner booth with both arms crossed over his chest. The place was small and empty, and there was only a handful of customers there besides them. Damian wrinkled his nose. The place smelled of cigarettes and greasy food.

Jason leaned back across from him, throwing an arm over the back of his seat. "You're stupid," he shot back with a wry smile. "And this is a fine establishment, I'll have you know. I come here a lot."

"Well that's how I know it's stupid if they let you in here."

A waitress came up to their table then, pulling out a notepad from her apron and a pen from behind her ear. "What can I get you boys?"

Before Damian could answer, Jason spoke up for him. "Two burgers and chocolate milkshakes, and a plate of fries."

"I'm vegetarian, you ass."

"Make one of those a veggie burger," Jason corrected, ignoring the jab.

The waitress flashed them a smile and went back to the kitchen. Damian glared at Jason. "We have food at the manor, you know."

Jason scoffed. "You think Alfred would let this kind of greasy food within a mile of that place? No way. And besides; after a nightmare, only real food can do the trick."

"I told you I didn't have a nightmare!"

Jason rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say."

Damian just scowled.

They sat in silence for a while, Damian sulking and Jason a pictures of ease despite the daggers Damian was glaring at him. When their food came, Jason immediately dug in, while Damian just stared at it in disgust.

"I would rather die again than eat this," he said. But that thought suddenly sent a chill up his spine, which Jason didn't miss.

He sipped at his milkshake thoughtfully. "Y'know,"he started, "the first time I came here was a few days after I came back to Gotham I think."

"Good for you," Damian grumbled.

Jason ignored him and continued. "It was right after I woke up from a really bad nightmare, and I just didn't feel like staying at my apartment anymore. I had to get some air, so I started walking around for a while to clear my head. Anyway, this was the only place that was still open that late, so I came here for a burger and a milkshake. Something about comfort food makes it the perfect pick-me-up after a bad dream, huh kid?"

Damian just stared down at his burger.

Jason tilted his head and sighed. "Listen, all I'm sayin' is that I get it, okay? I died, I came back, I got stuck with the bad dreams that came afterward. So you don't have to play up the act or whatever, 'cause I get it."

"Tt. You don't know anything, Todd."

Jason folded his arms across the table. "I don't? Well you know what? Compared to my death, yours was a freaking walk on the beach. So really, if there's one of us here who doesn't get it, it's you."

"Excuse me?"

"At least when you got killed, you knew that you had a family who loved you. At least you didn't die alone in some crappy warehouse knowing you had only ten seconds to live." His voice was steadily rising in volume. "At least when you came back, the first thing you got was a hug from Dad instead of having to claw your way out of a coffin. So as far as I'm concerned, your death was child's play."

In the back of his mind, Jason was glad no one else was in close enough proximity to hear them, otherwise this would be a very strange conversation.

Damian fumed. "You think dying was easy for me? You honest to god think that getting killed wasn't the worst thing I've ever experienced? I remember everything, you asshole! Everything from the sword going through my chest, to knowing I wasn't going to see father or Grayson again, to coming back to life. And now I'm stuck with the stupid nightmares that come with it. So shut the hell up, Todd - you have no idea how hard this has been for me," he spat.

He was panting by the end of his rant, face red and expecting either a fight or just as venomous of a response. But instead, all Jason did was smirk.

"Oh, what are you grinning about?"

Jason smugly bit into a fry. "I told you it was a nightmare."

"...Shut up."

They ate in tense silence after that, Jason still relaxed while Damian mentally recited the different ways he could decapitate Jason right now in his head. They stayed like that until they finished their food and Jason cleared his throat. "For future reference, though, I just want to make sure you know that we all get them. Nightmares, I mean. Me, Tim, Dick, even Bruce."

"So?" Damian was fed up with all this bad dream talk. Had he known that everyone in this family liked talking about feelings so much, he would have just stayed with the League of Assassins. At least with them, suffering in silence was perfectly reasonable.

"So, I'm just saying that when you get a bad dream, you don't have to deal with it alone," Jason said.

"Oh yeah, like I'm just going to come crying to Father, who already has too many problems on his plate to deal with this, or Grayson, who will probably just overreact and try to coddle me to death. Yeah, that sounds appealing."

Jason raised his eyebrows. "Hello? What about me?"

Damian wrinkled his nose. "You? Why would I possibly go to you for solace?"

Jason shrugged and sipped at his shake. "Well I mean, I kind of am the expert on how to get over a nightmare, so…"

"Oh yeah? What do you know?"

"For starters, I know that some good old fashioned movie watching is perfect on nights like this," Jason answered. He waved down their waitress, and when she got to their table he passed her a wad of bills. "Keep the change," he said after thanking her. Then he turned to Damian and jerked his head towards the door. "C'mon kid, I think it's time I introduced you to the Marvel cinematic universe."

When Bruce arrived home at 3am after a night of patrolling, he'd expected Damian to be asleep. He poked his head into his room to check on him like he did every night, but this time he wasn't there.

Bruce decided on checking the training room since that was usually where Damian spent most of his free time, but as he passed the living room on his way, he saw something he'd never expected to see.

There on the couch were his two angriest sons, cuddling and watching The Avengers together. Bruce froze and wondered if he was dreaming.

Jason was propped up on the arm of the couch with a bowl of popcorn beside him, his eyes locked the screen. Meanwhile Damian lay next to him with his head on Jason's lap, already fast asleep.

Bruce was caught between wanting to take a picture and asking if Damian had been drugged.

Jason noticed him standing there in the doorway. "Hey, B," he whispered, careful not to wake the sleeping ten year old.

Bruce gestured to Damian. "Is he okay?"

Jason shrugged. "Bad dream. But I handled it."

Bruce smiled. "I'm glad to see you two getting along for once," he said. Before tonight, he'd assumed that the only possibility of Jason and Damian ever getting along resided in some parallel universe, so this was definitely a welcome surprise.

The corner of Jason's mouth curved upwards a little, but then he gave Bruce a dark look. "Tell anyone about this and I'm not coming by again for weeks," he warned.

Bruce chuckled. "Noted. You going to bed soon?"

Jason looked down at Damian's sleeping face. For a kid who usually has murder on the brain and has committed more than a few himself, Jason couldn't deny that he looked chillingly innocent when he slept.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here with the demon for a while."

Bruce smiled and nodded. "Okay. Goodnight, Jason."

"Night, B."

As Bruce walked away, Jason relaxed back into the couch. As an afterthought, he put his arm around Damian and pulled him closer. Once again, he couldn't help smiling at how cute he was when he was asleep.

He began carding his hand through Damian's hair. "Don't worry kid," he breathed. "I promise no matter what, I won't let you die again. Not if I have anything to say about it."

And with that, he turned his attention back to the tv and settled in, making sure to stay as still as possible so as not to wake his sleeping brother.