/ 3:32 a.m, Saturday, Gotham City /

Yawning discreetly into the notch of his sleeve, he thought about how long of a night it had been. Father and him had been following closely some leads for the past two weeks. This was on the whereabouts of a string of murders plaguing Gotham City for the past Month. So that meant, every night for the past two weeks, they had been staking out certain spots late into the night. That also meant,... no sleep for a two certain vigilantes in the passing weeks. Fortunately However, as for tonight, they had finally found their perpetrator, and now all of Gotham, ...well maybe not all..., was 'safe...-er'...

Blinking owlishly, he found that as the excitement of the night bubbled down, and as time grew, it was becoming increasingly difficult to string together coherent thoughts. The passing of buildings began to become a colorful blur as the late passer-buyers began to look like little smudges flicking fast against the window of the bat mobile. In the haze of fog that tempered the listless atmosphere that night, another yawn was let to slip through the formidable demeanor of his person. Scrunching down further in the recesses of the more and more comfortable seat cushion, he decidedly wedged his head between the window pane and arm rest. Then he waited for the miserable ride to be over, so that the report could be typed and off to bed he could go.

Watching the dazzling array of colors dance upon his eyes, he yawned but again. However this time, the overwhelming weariness that had plagued his soul for the past couple weeks finally wrapped him up in a blanket of darkness. Thus his mind was finally succumbed to the peaceful rest from the tormenting affliction for the needs of sleep, and off to where all little robins fly, he thus went...

Smelling a very pungent smell, a combination of aftershave and lilac detergent, close in his proximity might he add, caused him to stir and open his eyes just a peak. It couldn't very well be Titus, he smelt like cucumbers and peaches,.. well at least after he's had a bath. Then considering the fact that Titus hadn't had a bath as of late, it ruled him out completely... Yawning in another mouthful of the refreshing odor, he knew that it couldn't possibly be Alfred (the cat), he bathed himself and smelt like,... well, a cat.

Lifting his weary head to find out what was going on, he realized that he was moving, however he wasn't at the same time...? More confused as to the disorienting motions around him, he yawned loudly into the opening space around him. Then through the haze of sleep, he could begin to slightly feel his sense of touch and sound that had decided to take a vacation as of earlier, and there through the mist someone was rubbing up and down the arch of his spine. Plus, there was a voice urging in hushed tones for him to go back to sleep.

He had fallen asleep..., that wasn't supposed to happen...

Realizing that this sensation should have been perceived as of earlier, he began to sluggishly shift out of what he supposed to be Father's grasp. Whenever Grayson got into a mood to carry him around like some infantile, the same would be done... Nonetheless, a brick wall was all he was meant with as he tried to squirm out of Father's embrace. Overwhelmingly exhausted, he began to slip in and out of sleep as his struggle to pry himself from the arms of his guardian failed. Father only hoisted him higher, where his body betrayed him. He, not of his own free will, had decided to snuggle his face into the crease of Father's neck. It wasn't his fault he thought sleepily, it was Father's... if Father didn't feel like a teddy bear then he wouldn't be falling asleep...

"A teddy bear, huh?"

Jolting at the sudden voiced opinion followed by a laugh, someone quickly rubbed the base of his neck with a mumbled apology. A little of the withered energy he had left, completely drained from the color palate of his face. Blushing in further embarrassment, he had not known he had been talking out loud...

"You've been doing that for a while...It's ok though, you're tired. You haven't revealed to me any thing I already don't know,... well maybe except the teddy bear thing. Dick will get a kick out of that..."

Stiffening at the fact that Father might use this opportunity to bring his reputation down in such a humiliating fashion, he began to maneuver out of Father's grasp once more with all the nonexistent strength he held at this moment. However was all but stopped by another mumbled apology and an assurance that his secret was safe with him.

With a peculiar tug at the bottom of his feet, he heard Father quickly continue to distract him, "Good thing it's Saturday... You can sleep all day if you want."

"mm.. not tires"

"mmm,... no you're not a 'tire'..., but you are a little boy that is way past his bedtime..."

"tt", "Robinzz duthesn't havze az bedsztymes..."

"You're right Robin doesn't have a bedtime." ... "Nonetheless, Damian does..."

*clunk* *clunk* Looking down towards the source of the noise, he could see that it was just his shoes that had been pulled off and chucked aside on the ground for convenience now, but inconvenience later when Pennyworth made him clean it up...

"hmmm, I always thought you had a sense of humor..."

After that, pretty much everything else was him slipping in and out of sleep. This became a blur of movement followed by a small murmured voice giving him instructions to slip his arm through this, to pull his head through that... and so on and so on.. until he found himself being moved upwards and having his head placed on the most softest pillow ever...

Bouncing from mid-yawn from a strange noise and vibration, he realized that when listening, it was the sound of Father laughing.

"Thank you... I appreciate all the kind complements..."

Yawning again, a hand ran through the spikes of his hair. At this point he found that he could no longer find the care in the world to be embarrassed. Surprisingly enough, peering through one eye, instead of having his head laying on a pillow like he'd thought, he had been instead laying on the couch resting on Fathers stomach.

"You're getting slow at your observation skills..." a mumbled voice through the fog said through brimming laughter.

"Yousze s'geszting fat..." He yawned as he gave a flimsy *poke* at Father's stomach* "Asz sais your'ze teddiezs'bears..."

From resounding laughter, he heard Father then simmer down to his serious nature for a brief moment, "Maybe I should check if you have a fever... your slurring..."

"ttzzz," was all that he could muster to reply.

With a hand resting upon his head, he heard the disgruntled mumble of his Father, and in its return he gave a muffled yawn in the pillow that now was defined as Father's stomach.

With an almost 'audible smirk', he heard in the crashing waves of his sleep swelling about him, "You sure are yawny tonight", before he felt an assemblage of assorted blankets towering over him and his father with a blanketing thud.

With one more ruffle in the tendrils of his hair, he drifted off into the wonderful land of sleep. Even if he did hear a differing snicker in the background with a shush from his Father. Following along with a click of a camera that he knew to be Graysons,..he didn't care,... at least he could sleep...