"Please wake up, Grayson," Dick hears Damian into the darkness of his bedroom.

There's a pleading tone to it, and Dick's not even really awake when he sits up and scrubs at his face, blinking rapidly to try and get his mind into some semblance of order.

"Damian?" he asks, his voice sleep-slurred. There's an expression on his little brother's face and he can't get his damn brain to wake up enough to comprehend it, even though he's literally been trained since he was nine to go from asleep to awake in an instant, but god, he's spent pretty much all week barely sleeping in order to keep up with everything, and he's exhausted. Still, this is Damian, so, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Damian's next words are so quiet, in his sleep-haze, Dick almost misses them. "I need your help."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Dick wonders after a moment of staring, but Damian shakes his head. "Is it...urgent?"

Dick's heartbeat picks up as he says the words, and his breathing hitches, and suddenly he's a lot more awake than he was five seconds ago. He pushes his blankets back and scrambles to his feet, nearly knocking into Damian in his haste.

"What're we dealing with?" Dick demands. "And does Bruce-"

"Not-" Damian cuts him off, and Dick blinks as his little brother stares at the floor. "Not that kind of help."

The tension falls from Dick's shoulders and he plops down on the bed, relieved and wide awake. "Oh." Then he plasters on a smile he hopes doesn't look too tired. "Okay. So, what's up?"

Damian's still not looking at him. "It does not matter any longer."

"Come on, Dami," Dick says. "If you woke me up at five in the morning then it must be pretty important to you, even if someone else doesn't think so."

Damian's shoulders rise slowly, so that they're almost covering his ears, and he looks-not embarrassed. Maybe unsure is the best word for it, Dick thinks. It's not a common expression to grace Damian's face, and it makes him look a lot younger than thirteen.

Dick lets Damian take his time, and after a long silent moment, Damian finally sits down beside Dick on the bed and murmurs, "I think Father and Pennyworth have been dealing with something stressful, and they will not tell me what it is."

Dick hums, leaning back on his hands. "Sounds like Bruce, but not so much like Alfie. Do you know whether it's Batman related?"

Damian shakes his head. There's something else, though. Dick waits him out.

"I thought Father was angry with me," Damian admits, his fists clenching. Dick frowns, but keeps quiet. "He's been short-tempered for almost a week, and as far as I could tell, it was only directed at me."

"So what changed your mind?" Dick asks.

"Pennyworth," Damian tells him. "It took longer to notice, but both he and Father are on edge, and I have been staying out of the way."

This is familiar to Dick. Bruce bottling up his emotions, refusing to lean on the people who love him, leaving everyone in the dark. Dick's had fifteen years to get used to this, and sometimes Bruce's constant insistence that he can take care of things alone while he shuts everyone else out makes Dick so angry.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, he's only worried. Especially because Alfred is involved, too.

"Did you want me to talk to them?" Dick rubs a tired eye. "I can, but it should probably wait until both Alfred and Bruce are awake."

Damian shakes his head again. He's got that unsure look on his face again, and he's playing with his fingers. Dick bites back a smile and pulls Damian's hands away from each other just to tangle the closest hand's fingers with his own. He squeezes it.

"You've got an idea," Dick says. It's not a question.

"Yes."

Dick stops fighting his smile. "Alright. Let's hear it."

The idea, it turns out, is a packed lunch for Bruce, a special tea for Alfred that Damian had found and had been saving for Alfred, and dessert and breakfast in bed for both of them. With a recipe book Dick had swiped from the counter above the refrigerator, they'd created some pretty good meals with minimal crashing. Nobody had even woken up once, so Dick definitely counted it as a win.

"This is a really good idea," Dick tells Damian as boy brings the tray up the stairs.

They've only got the breakfast for Bruce right now, breakfast set out for Alfred to find in a couple minutes. Dick knows the butler might get sentimental, and there's no way he'd want Dick and Damian around if he does. They'd left a note instead, explaining everything and where'd they'd be.

But Dick was in agreement with Damian. Bringing Bruce breakfast instead of letting him come down to the kitchen was probably the best option at this point.

Damian doesn't react to Dick's words, not even when they reach Bruce's bedroom door.

"Seriously, Damian," Dick says. "It is. And if this doesn't get him to loosen up and talk to you, then I can just demand a piggyback instead."

"Childish," is Damian's muttered reply.

Dick laughs. "Yeah, but it'll work. He'll probably dump me in the pool, but he'll relax a bit. Still, I don't think we need to resort to anything as drastic as piggybacking. This will work."

Damian stares at him a moment, eyes flicking over his face, like he's looking for something. Eventually, he nods. Dick smiles and then he opens the door for Damian, who has no hands free because he's carrying a tray that's practically twice his size.

Bruce doesn't stir, which is no surprise at all to Dick. Sleeping like the dead is one of the skills that Bruce has mastered, and even when Damian sets the tray down on the bedside table and the silverware clinks together and against the glass of orange juice.

Dick grins at Damian, sending him a wink just for fun, and then he jumps towards the bed. He lands directly on Bruce, and all he can do is laugh when Bruce just murmurs an exasperated, "Dick."

"Morning, Bruce."

"What time is it?."

"Seven."

"Why am I awake?."

"Because I jumped on top of you."

"Dick."

"Bruce," Dick says right back, sliding off the bed with a grin. He's still exhausted, but this is something that he's good at. "Oh, by the way, Damian's got a present for you."

Bruce frowns, but he looks a lot more awake than he had moments before. "A present?"

"You know," Dick says, stretching his arms above his head, "for a detective, you're kind of oblivious."

Damian whips a glare in Dick's direction, but Dick just ruffles his hair. Damian's glare lessens into something that's more irritation before he turns to Bruce.

"Father," Damian says, sounding a lot more confident than he has all morning. "Grayson and I made you breakfast to dine in your bed. I have brought a tray so you won't be in danger of getting crumbs on the sheets."

"I was going to throw it at your face," Dick teases, plopping back onto the bed. He sits this time, leaning against the footboard. Damian chooses to stand. "Damian wouldn't let me, though."

"Thank you, Damian," Bruce says, pushing himself into a sitting position. Dick can see the stress on his face, but there's nothing of the sort in his voice. He almost sounds amused, and Dick can't help the warm smile that crosses his face. "For saving me from waking up to a food fight."

"Of course," Damian says.

And Dick can see that every interaction with them is another second the tension in Bruce's shoulders lessens. And he knows it won't be permanent, but Damian's idea had hit the mark, and Dick thinks that now is probably as good as time as any to retreat.

"Okay," Dick says, interrupting whatever Bruce is saying. He blinks and scrubs a hand over his face. He feels like he's about to drop now that breakfast is made and delivered. "Okay, I think I need to go sleep for three days. Damian," Dick cuts off whatever Damian's about to say, "you should stay here and talk to Bruce some more for me."

"Tt."

Despite the noise, Damian doesn't look opposed. Dick takes that as a win, too, though he could do without that slight guilt. Dick's always going to be there to wake up a five in the morning for things like this, and he'll have to reassure Damian of it later. When Bruce isn't a very big presence in the room.

Bruce stares at him, a faint crease in his brow. "Are you alright?"

Dick hums, heading for the door. "Just a long week, is all. I'll probably be up later, if you wanna talk."

And with that, Dick's out the door, leaving Bruce and Damian behind to figure out whatever's been happening in the manor while Dick has been working his case. He'll figure it out for himself later. For now, his bed is calling him.