Something about night time made a home feel so empty, so abandoned. During the day, with sunlight beaming in from the grand windows and laughter bouncing through the halls, one could gather a sense of warmth from being inside Wayne Manor. But at night, the only light coming in was moonlight, draping the interior with pale, still light. Silence seemed to radiate within the mansion, so complete that one couldn't be sure if a noise had been made, even if the sound originated from you. At night, no matter how many of the rooms were full, the mansion was filled with stagnant air and a depressing silence.
This was what greeted Barbara Gordon when gasped awake in the middle of night. Darkness and silence.
Images from her mind still played before her eyes, sounds still ringing in her ears in those brief seconds after she'd opened her eyes. Bright red flames and tiny hands reaching out to her. Screams and crackling and crashing.
She closed her eyes once more, forcing her mind back to reality. Pushing forward, she sat up and breathed in a long, deep breath. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage painfully. The rhythm was soothing almost, something to focus on while she pulled herself out of her nightmare. Continuing her long, slow breaths, her hand sought out the glass of water that she had on the nightstand, only to realize it was empty.
Grinding her teeth, Barbara swiped the glass away from the nightstand and pushed the comforter off her legs. The static air chilled her skin as she climbed about of bed, feet shivering against the cold wooden floors.
Briefly, she contemplated grabbing a pair of sweats to wear on her journey for water, before deciding against it. A short journey didn't require pants.
Her heart, which she had just calmed, suddenly began to panic as she reached for the doorknob. The darkness and silence seemed overwhelming, and her mind once more returned to the image of fire. Shaking the thought away from her head, she set her jaw and opened the door into the vast nothingness of the mansion at night.
Plenty of times before she'd made this exact journey, and each of those times she'd done it without anxiety or fear plaguing her mind. However, it was rare that a nightmare stuck with her the way this one seemed to. Every silent step she took away from her bedroom seemed to be carrying her further away from safety.
Barbara scolded herself as she reached the end of the staircase and made her way towards the kitchen. This was silly. It was just a dream and it was over, she was alone.
Filling her glass from the refrigerator, she looked around to see just how alone she really was.
And instead her eyes conjured images of tiny hands, reaching into the pale light that the fridge offered, stretching towards her toes. Barbara's eyes widened, fear tightening its firm grip on her heart. Fighting to remain calm, she told herself once more that it wasn't real and took a deep breath.
Her glass was full and she pressed it to her lips, slowly drinking without ever taking her eyes off the shadows until they returned to the realm of fiction where they belonged.
Despite the adrenaline rushing through her system, her eyelids sagged with fatigue. After school and work and patrol, Barbara was beyond exhausted and had been so looking forward to the blissful embrace of slumber. To her dismay, she was instead met with the terrors of her subconscious. As tired as she was, a fearful voice whispered in her ear that her terrors would return with more slumber.
The atmosphere felt heavy on her shoulders, pushing against her as if she were deep underwater. It was silent, lonely, and – as the light in the refrigerator switched off once more – complete darkness.
Thinking about going back up to her large, empty bed to be once more overcome with fear practically paralyzed Barbara.
Using an embarrassing amount of force, she pushed her foot forward in laborious steps back towards the stairs. Each step was heavy and calculated and meticulous, but she slowly climbed the steps and started down the hallway.
In the opposite direction of her own bedroom.
Before she had time to talk herself out of it, Barbara opened the door and swiftly closed it behind her, leaning against it and breathing a sigh of relief.
In this room, a large window had the curtains drawn, allowing in plenty of moonlight to illuminate the room. There was a fan circulating the air and keeping the paralyzing silence at bay. The room had a clean, cozy feel to it. Pristine, but not in a 'doctor office' sense. The bed was huge, grey sheets bunched up around the large body filling the space within them. His breathing could be heard even across the room where Barbara sat.
She bit her lip nervously. This was silly, she could easily sleep in her own room without having to disturb anyone else. But then she thought back to all the times he – or others – had crawled into her bed for this exact reason and she swallowed her pride.
Approaching the bed, she reached a hand out. He was laying on his side, his back facing her. The blankets stopped covering him around the middle of his bare torso, and he had a pillow in a chokehold against his chest.
"Jason," she whispered as her fingers gently made contact with his shoulder.
Suddenly his hand had gripped her wrist tightly, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain. He sat up, turned to face her, and grabbed her other hand all in one motion. His eyes were wide and alert, glowing Lazarus green in the dark. As his mind caught up with his body, he realized he'd grabbed Barbara and immediately let her go.
"Shit," he murmured, relaxing into his bed once more. "Sorry, Babs, you scared me."
A soft laugh made its way past her lips. Jason leaned against the headboard, hands behind his head. Even in the moonlight, the powerful muscles beneath his skin were well defined with each relaxed movement he made. "Sorry," she whispered, staring at him from beside the bed.
He looked at her for a moment, one eyebrow raised. "So, what's up?" He lowered his arms once more, pushing his hands through his hair as he did so.
Once more, Barbara bit her lip, rubbing her hands along her arms nervously. "Would it be okay- " Her eyes avoided his, choosing instead to roam around the room. "It's just that it's kind of weird to go to Dick's room, and Tim and Damian aren't exactly physical people, and Bruce is so… Bruce, and," She looked back to him, his expression expectant. "Can I sleep in here?"
He smiled. For a moment, Barbara pondered how different Sleepy Jason was from Awake Jason. Sleepy Jason smiled with his eyes closed, his eyebrows rose just a tiny bit. He smiled a toothy grin, a small chuckle bubbling out of his chest as he scooted across the bed and motioned for her to climb in. He lifted the blanket, allowing her to wriggle in between the sheets until she was comfortable.
Barbara turned onto her side, doing the same for him until he was lying beside her. She pushed against him, intertwining her bare legs with his, resting her head on his shoulder. Jason wrapped his arm around her, his hand coming to rest in the curve of her side just before her hip bone.
They stayed like this, silent and still, until she could feel him fall back asleep. Something about being in Jason's room, nestled into his chest, the fan blowing cool air over her body made it seem that the nightmare only existed outside the confines of those four walls. As if when she'd closed the door she'd blocked out the fear that had previously nested in her chest, keeping it at bay in the dark corridor outside. Barbara smiled when she felt sleepiness tug on her eyelids, and she gladly let it take her.
