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Edward hadn’t been able to sleep much. He’d been here for a week or so, but he only managed to get three or four hours a night. That normally wouldn’t be a problem, he’d struggled with insomnia all his life. The issue lied in the fact that he kept waking up with nightmares, then couldn’t get back to sleep.
This was one of those nights. He turned his lights on and returned to his bed, to the comfort of those expensive silken sheets. He didn’t know if Batman was home, and even if he was he likely wasn’t awake. Edward chewed on his bottom lip, debating whether or not he should try to find Batman.
He stood slowly, keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It dragged behind him on the floor as he walked to the door. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked from the outside, as he assumed it would be.
“Hello?” Edward called out, knocking lightly on the door. Nothing.
He sighed and looked at the clock by his bed, 4:43. Nobody would be awake, except for him apparently. His eyes turned to the blinking red light on the security camera. “I don’t know if you’re awake, but if you are, I need— um… company?”
Edward waited for a minute, but there was no response. He groaned and sat on the bed, wrapping himself up in the blanket with his knees to his chin. His hand reached to his forearm, wanting to start scratching at it again.
“Don’t do that. I’ll be over in a minute.” A voice from the camera's speaker startled him. It sounded exhausted, and guilt immediately nestled itself in Edward’s brain. Had he woken Batman up?
He sat still, folding his hands over his knees to stop himself from scratching at his arm. Teeth gnawed at the skin on his chapped lips, he spaced out until he heard the lock click and the door creak open.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. I just— uh… I can’t sleep,” Edward mumbled, avoiding eye contact like it was the plague.
“You didn’t wake me, I haven’t slept yet,” the Batman stepped towards the bed, “Why can’t you sleep?”
Edward furrowed his eyebrows, continuing to bite at his lips, “Haven’t slept much at all lately, really,” He let out a dry laugh, “I’ve never been a very good sleeper, but tonight was just— a lot. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” Batman muttered, “Any particular reason that tonight is bad?”
The nightmares, obviously, a voice in the back of Edward’s mind said. But he couldn’t just admit that, he’d sound like a child. He rubbed his face and finally looked Batman in the eye, but shot away a second later. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
That, apparently, surprised Batman. Edward guessed that it would, normally he never shut his mouth. Now, he didn’t want to talk about what was troubling him.
“Alright. What do you need?” Batman offered quietly, as if he was soothing a scared animal. Edward moved his hand to pat the empty spot on the bed beside him, and Batman sat down.
Slowly, Edward reached over for his hand, “Could you take the glove off?”
Batman tossed the idea over in his head for a moment, and not seeing a real problem with it, he nodded. He unlatched the gauntlet and pulled his hand from the thick leather glove, placing it on the bed.
Edward held his hand gently, as if it were fragile. There were calluses and scars all over, a testament to the times he’d fought for the sake of the city. Edward shifted to face the man, letting go of his hand for barely a second before holding it again with both of his own.
It felt like a sacred object that he shouldn’t be allowed to touch, like he was dirtying it with his sinful hands. He traced Batman’s palm lines, grounding himself with the feeling. Edward felt so safe with this man, this stranger whose face he hadn’t even seen. He trusted him. That was something he’d granted to nobody else in his life.
“Could you tell me why you can’t sleep?” Batman’s voice was so soft, so kind. To a man who had killed, he felt sympathy. Edward couldn’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes.
“I keep having nightmares,” His voice was cracking, but he didn’t care, “The same ones on repeat. About the orphanage. Kids dying around me, and somehow I was allowed to live. Only to turn into this.”
Edward sighed, shaky and exhausted. He dropped his hands to the bed, bringing Batman’s hand down with them, “I’m tired.”
“I’m sorry,” Batman said, still ever so quiet and steady.
That statement made Edward break out into a sob, dropping his head and letting his hair hide his expression. He couldn’t muster up any words, his head was entirely focused on the hand in his own. Batman slowly moved his hand away, “I’m taking off the other glove, don’t worry.”
Edward just nodded, watching as Batman removed the gauntlet and glove with well-practiced ease. He moved to the headboard, leaning up against it the same way he had on Edward’s first day in his manor.
With slow and unsteady movements, Edward moved to sit with him, bringing the blanket along. He leaned against the man’s chest comfortably. In his arms was the safest place Edward would ever be, his eyes slipped shut and he let out another shaky sigh.
“I’ve already called for a therapist, you’ll have an appointment soon,” Batman rested his hand on Edward’s, the temperature difference was almost ridiculous. His were warm, likely from the gloves. Edward’s were freezing, despite the fact that he’d been wrapped up in a blanket all night. “I want to help you.” He confessed.
“Thank you,” Edward mumbled, rubbing small circles into Batman’s palm with his free hand, “What have I done to myself?” He asked, though it was more of a question for himself than the man he sat with.
Bruce rested his head back on the headboard, letting out a quiet sigh. The suit wasn’t comfortable to relax in, but he didn’t want to reveal his identity so soon. He would have to wait until Edward fell asleep, then he could leave to get his own rest. That’s what he thought, at least.
Neither of them noticed the other’s eyes closing, or their breathing evening out. Alfred found them together in the morning after spending a moment panicking over where Bruce was.