Jason grumbles softly over the sound of the television.

"I swear he does this on purpose," he says. Tim lifts his head to look at him and the look in his eyes perfectly represents their shared suffering. Jason returns the look gratefully.

"That is already common knowledge, Todd." Damian does not take his eyes off the screen, which currently shows the end credits of a Disney movie rolling from bottom to top before disappearing again. "The question here would be how exactly he does it."

The kid is lying on his side in front of them, head on the lap of a sleeping Dick Grayson that is snuggling happily into Jason's shoulder. Jason eyes him as if Dick is a spider making its way onto his person.

"Maybe he's secretly a meta?" Jason says. Tim, who is nestled on the other side of Dick in the crook of his arm, raises an incredulous eyebrow at Jason, but then there is a moment in which they all stop to consider the possibility.

"So then his power would be, what, hypnotism?" Damian muses and rolls over to look at Tim. The fact that he is lying sprawled across Tim's lap as well as Dick's means that there is some awkward shuffling involved in that action.

"I haven't seen anything weird in his files on the Batcomputer," Tim says, shrugging as best he can with Dick's arm wrapped around him. Jason thinks it over for a moment.

"I haven't seen him doing anything weird to any of us. Compulsion maybe?"

"Someone still should have noticed something." Tim wiggles his left arm out from under Damian to try and loosen the grip on his chest. His struggles are rewarded with a sleepy mumble and Dick further tightening his hold, squishing his little brother into his own side. Tim huffs, and the bangs that hang like a curtain over his face flutter with the action.

"It could be some kind of pheromone or something." Damian is frowning up at Dick, as if trying to spot new abnormalities that he may have missed before. "If it's a tactile thing like a venom, he could be using those stupid hugs to administer it."

They all turn contemplative looks on the brother, who blissfully and obliviously snoozes on.

"But if it's a tactile thing, does it work through our suits and armour?" Jason asks, poking experimentally at the t-shirt that Dick is wearing. "Those are pretty thick."

"I don't remember having any direct skin contact with him before we ended up in this situation," Tim agrees. He is starting to look a little blue at the moment. Jason would have laughed had this been any other situation, but as it is, he is no better off, squeezed in between Dick's wiry frame and the couch armrest. His arms are mercifully free, but that leaves his left arm lying over the back of the couch, in a way that looks a lot more affectionate towards the people in it than he would like.

"I think we'll need Barbara's help if we're going to get any further with this. If anyone knows, it'd be her," Tim muses. "That or we can ask Bruce, but he's fallen victim to it too."

"The fact that he affects Father with it worries me," Damian mumbles. He turns back around to look at the tv, yawning involuntarily as he does it. Tim follows suit with a yawn of his own.

"Got that right. I'm pretty sure none of us are safe," Jason says, and his eyes are starting to droop a little as well, the late night shifts that he's pulled lately starting to take their collective toll. Tim rests his head on Dick's shoulder, and Dick's grip loosens just a little bit.

It is not long before all three brothers have dozed off on the eldest, joining each other in a good night's sleep.

None of them have the time to notice Dick stirring and cracking an eye open soon after the last yawn. He smiles fondly at the sight of his little brothers.

"Silly boys," he mumbles sleepily. "Clearly I am a Jedi."