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It sounded like the world was ending. Felt like it too, even though Jason knew the bed couldn’t be vibrating that much. Cursing, he rolled over and groped blindly for the ringing cellphone he forgot to silence after finally collapsing into bed maybe an hour ago. Without looking, he swiped to answer the call.
“Someone better be dying.” His deep, exhausted rasp nearly drowned out the small voice saying “Jason?”
Every fiber in his body snapped to life. “Damian?” Jason bolted upright, adrenaline once again pumping through his veins. “Is everything okay?” When there wasn’t an immediate reply, he launched into a round of questions. “Where are you? Are you hurt? Are you safe? If it’s safe then stay put, I’m on my way.”
“I’m okay. I’m safe.” The trembling in Damian’s voice said otherwise and Jason already had one leg through his discarded jeans. “You don’t have to come, this was a prank call.” Quick heaving breaths bled through the speaker.
“No, wait Dames, don’t–”
“Night.” The line went dead. Jason was flying around his room now, snatching up his keys and jacket, grabbing a spare one for Damian in case he was in a field or something. Oh shit, where was the kid? He’d have to run a trace which meant more delays.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could he have been so stupid? Pain flashed across his scalp as Jason twisted his hands in his hair. He told Damian to call if he ever needed someone, if he had nightmares or flashbacks about dying at night. And what were the first words out of Jason’s sorry ass mouth? All that posturing about helping and it being the most important reason he was alive and he only made Damian’s spiral worse.
Dick wouldn’t have done this. And it was stupid of Jason to think he could be that for someone.
Insistent tapping at his window drew him out of the storm cloud of thoughts. Jason threw open the window for the floating figure outside. “He’s with Jon, isn’t he?”
“They’re both at the house.” Jason sighed in relief and stepped aside. Thank fuck he didn’t have to search the woods or some shit. The Kent's were undoubtedly the best people to handle this. Clark flew into the loft apartment but didn’t land, choosing to hover an inch above the distressed wood floor with his arms crossed tight. “Jon said he had a nightmare and couldn’t calm down afterwards.”
“Yeah, he called me and I handled it terribly. What’s new?” Jason ran both hands over his face. No, stay focused. Find out if he’s okay now, hate yourself later. “Is he alright?”
“No. He only spoke to ask for you.” Jason’s stomach twisted. His fingers went numb a moment later. Him? Damian asked for him? “Jon ran to get me and I assume that’s when he called you.” Clark held out a hand in a wordless invitation and despite his roaring doubts, Jason seized it.
Icy night air stung his face. Jason buried it in the spare jacket, hair whipping with the speed. They couldn’t slow down so he wouldn’t complain. Besides, maybe he deserved a little punishment. Clark’s foot barely touched down on the porch when Jason threw himself to the ground, sprinting past a worried looking Lois in the entryway.
“Damian?” He called up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. “Damian, I’m here!” Jon’s dark head popped out of a door before he could wonder which room his little brother was in. Forcing himself to slow down and take a deep breath, Jason pushed the door open wider. “Dames?”
A twin-sized air mattress sat beside Jon’s bed. How the thing was still inflated while the sheets were shredded beyond saving was a miracle. Behind it, huddled in a corner with knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped over his head, was Damian.
“Hey, baby bat.” Jason kneeled down before him, lightly touching his foot to announce his presence. “I’m sorry about the phone call, I didn’t know it was you, but I’m here now. They say you had a nightmare?”
Clark joined them in the room, watching with an anxious frown. Both hands rested on Jon’s hunched shoulders. What were Superman’s nightmares like? Were they as bloody and sadistic as the Bats’ night terrors? Did he also see his family die in whatever horror of the week their cities cooked up? If they were as sunny and optimistic as Clark’s attitude, Jason might go searching for Bruce’s stash of kryptonite.
“He was moaning and thrashing in his sleep.” Jon explained. “I tried to wake him but he panicked more when he felt the sheets wrapped around him.”
Grave clothes. But the realization did nothing to help Jason figure out his next step. With hushed whispers, Clark and Lois coaxed Jon away from the room and closed the door. At the very least he could flounder in private.
Jason touched Damian’s ankle. “That was frightening, huh?” The kid didn’t pull away so Jason squeezed it. “I still get frightened when I wake up and feel disoriented. But it passes quicker now. It’ll get better.” That seemed like a really good thing to say. But Damian still didn’t budge. His knuckles were white as his fingers dug into his skin.
Okay. So maybe that wasn’t a good thing to say. Shit. For someone who had so many panic attacks, Jason was doing a terrible job. But he worked hard to not remember any of his. And in the heat of the moment he could barely comprehend what Dick or Bruce were saying, only that he started feeling better because of it. And would the things that worked for him even work for Damian?
Taking a gamble, Jason scooted over to sit shoulder to shoulder with the teen. “Listen. I’m no Dick Grayson or even Bruce on a good day. I know I offered but… honestly I’m not very good at this. Sometimes breathing helps but you seem pretty solid there. Other times it’s sensory; finding five things to touch, four to see and so on. That one’s a classic. B uses it in the field with victims a lot.” Come on Todd, get to the fucking point. “This one isn’t official but when I have nightmares about…about my grave, touch helps me. Bruce touches my face, Dick hugs me like a human weighted blanket, Tim sits beside me like I’m doing right now. All of that is a sensation I know wasn’t there. It helps make the lines between reality and memory become solid.”
More silence. Jason let it stretch despite it making him squirm with uncertainty. Maybe all the kid needed was some company, not a loud nuisance disguised as mediocre advice.
Just as his eyes began drooping shut, Damian whispered “I’d like a hug please.”
“Then c’mere kiddo.” He swept Damian into his arms and the boy immediately latched onto him like a koala, arms and legs wrapping tight around Jason’s neck and back. Old habits wanted to make a joke but Jason merely held him.
“Father hugged me after I came back.” Damian whispered, a shudder rolling through him. “It made me feel…solid. Whole.”
How could he forget? Besides it being one of the sweetest things Jason had ever seen in his life, he could easily recall the swirling regret that his return wasn’t met with as much enthusiasm. “Is it helping now?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Good.” Jason tipped his head back against the wall, feeling some semblance of relief wash over him too. “Then we can do this for as long as you need.” They lapsed back into silence. After a few minutes Damian began to tense up again, arms tightening around Jason as his chin dug into Jason's shoulder. So he took a page out of Dick’s book and began rubbing Damian’s back in a soothing circle. The tension melted away.
“Better?”
“Yes.” Damian sounded sleepy. Good. “Jason?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you stay?”
“Was already planning on it. But we’re taking the bed.”
“I agree.” There was a beat before Damian whispered, “Is…is this what ‘just living’ looks like?”
Their past conversation rang clear through Jason’s mind, another attempt at giving advice on something he’d botched again and again.
‘So...I do nothing except...live? And they’ll look at me normally again? Or close to it?’
‘Yeah, just live.’
No one was looking normally at Damian tonight. How could they? The Kents were startled awake and Jason arrived two steps away from being frantic. He could hear the question Damian wasn’t asking: Am I doing this right? Am I getting anywhere?
“Yup,” Jason said softly, “Sometimes this is what ‘just living’ looks like. My flashbacks are better, I wasn’t lying, but sometimes I still have bad ones. There’s no shame in needing a little help to calm down. Eventually I found a routine. Dick helps with no fuss now. He’s really good at this, unlike me.”
Damian snuggled, honest to God snuggled , closer and lay his head on Jason’s shoulder. “I think you’re really good at this too.”
Chuckling, Jason lay his cheek on Damian’s head. “Thanks kid.”