Oneshot, mostly brotherly fluff.
I wrote this in between sets at a battle of the bands type competition. We won, but I couldn't focus much so this is gonna be pretty bad. I'll probably take this down and re-upload it if I find any errors, grammatical or otherwise. Any feedback is much appreciated as this is my first fic and there will be at least one maybe two more coming out the door soon. Thanks, and be sure to comment,
Jaybird.
He ran. He sprinted. Anything to get away from the looming darkness that seemed to only grow closer no matter how fast he ran. He was sweating and breathing heavily as he tried to evade the seemingly never-ending cloud of darkness that surrounded him. As he ran he tripped into a hole in the ground. No, not a hole. A grave. A coffin lid shut over him and he could hear the sound of dirt moving; filling in his grave. Tears began streaming down his face while he screamed and clawed at the wooden lid of his coffin. He wasn't sure how but he finally made his way through the wooden lid and dug his way through the many feet of dirt. He broke the surface and Jason awoke with a start.
He was in somebody's arms being hugged tightly against their chest; rocking him back and forth. His shirt clung to his sweaty chest and his eyes were still stinging with tears. His throat was sore from screaming and he just wanted to curl up and cry. So he did. He didn't even acknowledge whoever's chest he was crying into as they rubbed his back and comforted him. He heard a familiar voice say, "Shh, it's okay, Jay. I'm here, it's okay. You're safe, nobody can hurt you, Little Wing." He pulled his head out of the black shirt of the voice's owner to see who was comforting him. "Dick? Why are you in my room? Why am I in my room?" He then remembered the partially torn muscle in his shoulder and Alfred's insistence upon him staying there until he recovered. Here he was, a twenty-two year old, crying into his surrogate brother's chest. He felt like he was going soft, but he didn't care. He just cried again and the acrobat pulled him right back into a hug. "You're safe, Jason. It's okay. I heard you screaming and I came in here to check on you…shh, Little Wing, it's okay." It wasn't long until he was back asleep, but Dick didn't dare leave him. He woke up and did the same thing two other times before finally staying asleep. After Richard was sure that he wasn't waking up again, he, too, fell asleep.
A few hours after the last terror Bruce walked down the hall, after getting his first cup of coffee from Alfred, to check on the injured Jason. He noticed the door was open and peeked in. Bruce was greeted with the sight of Jason's tear-stained face being buried into his eldest son's chest. It was clear neither one of them had gotten much sleep and Bruce knew all too well about the sleepless nights that were caused by night terrors. He just shut the door and walked downstairs with a smile on his face.