This Type of Nightmare

Summary: There are two types of nightmares that Jason has, this is one of them. Told in Tim's POV.

A/N: This one shot contains sex/slash. This chapter is Jay/Tim and they have an established relationship and live together.

A big thank you to my beta TheWickedWizard ofOz!

This Type of Nightmare

Tim POV

I hear him first, before I feel the bed dip as he gets out of bed to go to the bathroom. His rapid breathing that followed the brief shout as his mind relayed consciousness to him. I wonder how one can breathe so fast, to hyper ventilate the way that he does. I take a moment to question which type of nightmare this is tonight.

Is this the kind where he will let me hold him? Where he will actually talk to me about the nightmare? Or is it the type of nightmare where I get shut out? Where he doesn't want to be touched, sometimes not even looked at. Most of all, in those type of nightmares he doesn't want to talk. It's almost as if he doesn't want anyone to know that he exists in that moment. I decide to venture out and find out for myself, as Jason would never come to me first.

I open my eyes to see the bathroom light on and the door open. Jason is standing, leaning over the sink, his face dripping wet. Whether that is from sweat from his nightmare or water from the sink is anyone's guess.

I walk to him slowly, making no attempt to be stealthy. Trying to sneak up on Jason right after he's had a nightmare would not be smart…..at all. I see he has the water running in the sink and he cups his hands under the water and leans over the sink as he spreads the cold water over his face as I walk up behind him. As he stands up straight his eyes quickly glance at me. Since I haven't been told to 'fuck off' or to 'get the hell out' I go for broke and step forward wrapping my arms around his waist. My chest is flush against his back and I can still feel the hysterical energy flowing off of him: the quick, panicked breathing, his racing heart. The water has dripped down from his face, down his bare chest and I can't help but find him incredibly sexy in this totally inappropriate moment. But it's okay for if I know Jason, I know how he sometimes likes to get over these types of nightmares.

Jason is a head taller than me. My eyes peek out above his shoulder and if I stretch my spine to fuller heights I can rest my chin on his shoulder. I do so after laying a few kisses to his back. I close my eyes as I feel Jason tilt his head back to rest on my opposite shoulder, his longish hair tickling my ear. I can hear Jason trying to control his breathing. I flatten my palms against his abs and kiss his shoulder giving him the time he needs to start talking, as he eventually will. I hear what I think is a whimper from Jason, possibly him trying to hold back a sob and he leans forward splashing more water on his face.

He stays there with his hands over his face and I see his shoulders start to shake. I move my hands to his shoulders as I hear him sniffle. This is the only time he will allow me see him this way; the only time he will allow me to see him cry, the only time he will allow me to see him be vulnerable. He lifts up his face and I see his tears mix with the water running down his face. I can tell the difference between the water and his tears. His tears from lack of use are thicker than the water, like his tears carry more weight, more baggage, than the very water itself. I keep my hands on him, and slowly apply kisses to him, letting him know I am there and not going anywhere. He looks at himself in the mirror and at some point I find that we are slowly rocking to the right and left. I notice Jason's fingers absently play with the scars on his chest and ribs.

So it's one of those nightmares, and before he says anything, I know what it is about. As we continue to rock back and forth, I move my hands over his and entwine our fingers moving them away from the scars. Even though the water had dried off of his face, his tears still flow.

"I can still feel it," he says, still staring at his scars in the mirror. "I can still feel the crowbar when it hits me. I can still feel my ears ring as his laugh echoes in the warehouse. It always feels so real in the nightmare. It still hurts. He can still hurt me. I can still feel…." And his voice trails off as a sob over takes him.

I shift in front of him so I am wedged between him and the bathroom counter. I put my hands on either side of his face and slowly lift it so he looks at me.

"He's not here. He can't hurt you anymore. You are so strong. You're so strong that he couldn't even accomplish what he wanted because you're still here," I say trying to calm him.

"He's the only person, the only…..thing, that can make me feel like I'm not strong enough."

"You are, you are," I say over and over almost as a mantra or chant, as I embrace him fully. I feel his arms come around me and return the embrace, his face nuzzled in my neck.

"And if you ever need back up , I'm here," I say as I take his face back in my hands. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." I lean forward and pace my lips against his. I hear him whimper before his hands come to the sides of my head and his lips start to move against mine.

This is the one thing the Joker could never take from Jason, is me. Not the beatings, the scars, the nightmares, hell not even death could keep our love apart.

Jason breaks the kiss to trail more kisses down my jaw line, to my neck.

"Please don't go anywhere. I need to feel this. I don't want to feel him." And this is where it usually goes after his nightmares, especially ones about the Joker, or about that night. He needs to replace one feeling with another, and I let him.

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere. He can't hurt you; he can't hurt us. It's okay Jason. There's nothing he can do." I try to comfort him as my hands knead up and down his back to ease his tension and I feel him start to suck on my neck and his tears return.

Jason then grabs my ass lifting me up and onto the counter top in front of the sink, my legs automatically spread to accommodate him standing so close to me. Our foreheads come together as we just look in each other's eyes, feeling our breaths against our faces. His hands entangle themselves in my hair and my hands are on his shoulders for balance. As his tears fall I see the question in his eyes and I smile and nod. I know what he wants, what he needs, and I'm happy to give it to him. I know he'll be gentle.

His hands go to the drawstring of my sweats and untie it; his thumbs hook not only into the waistband of my sweats but my boxers as well and I lift my hips for him to pull them down and off of me to reveal that I'm already half hard from our little make-out session. When Jason removes his bottoms I find he is the same, and then it's on. Lips and hands are everywhere. I hear the drawer open for him to get the lube. He is gentle as I knew he would be, making sure I am fully prepped and stretched. When he looks for my approval, I nod and let him take me on the bathroom counter. I lean back as he pushes in. He grunts and entwines our fingers pinning my hands above my head and against the mirror. He grunts again as he sets the pace and I let him take control.

Control of my body, control of the sex, control of the moment.

Control is very important to Jason, especially when it comes to his body and what happens to it.

I can't imagine what being tied up on a cold warehouse floor did to him; him being unable to do anything to stop the crowbar from beating him to death. For him to not have any control over what was happening to him. I have a feeling though, that there were other moments in his life where he didn't have control over what happened to his body.

My legs start to have trouble staying around his waist and they start to tremble. Jason picks up on this as he lets go of my hands to quickly hook my legs over his shoulders. He kisses me forcefully and the back of my head bangs against the mirror.

The new angle causes him to brush against my prostate and my mouth opens wide in a silent scream as I quickly come close to teetering over the edge. Jason's hands and lips roam all over my body, and my orgasm washes over me. It isn't long as my orgasm effects Jason as he starts grunting again and I feel him release inside me.

We both stay in our uncomfortable position on the bathroom counter as we come down from our orgasmic high, Jason tenderly kissing me.

"I'm…..I'm sor-" he starts and I know he is about to apologize, for what I don't know, but I don't allow him to and my finger is on his lips to quiet him, and I shake my head.

"It's okay. I'm here, you're here. It's just us. Do you want to try to go back to sleep? I'll be right there."

Jason shakes his head and I'm not surprised. When he is this shaken, he is too scared to return to sleep, too scared to return to the one place he could still feel weak.

"I think I'm going to watch a movie or TV or…something," he says as we start to untangle ourselves and clean ourselves up.

"Okay, mind if I join you?" and he smiles, and that's all the permission I need.

I'll stay up with him and do whatever he needs to get him past this. This one isn't that bad….at least, this type of nightmare.

THE END

A/N: Well that was the first slash/sex type thing I have written let alone have the courage to post. How was it?

Yes, I am open to suggestions if there is something that you would like to see written. I can't guarantee it will be but, never hurts to voice it right?

Next chapter is….the other type of nightmare.

Anyone figure out my trademark type thing that I do in writing?