'I don't fear death so much as I fear its prologues: loneliness, pain, debilitation, depression, senility.' - Mary Roach

1. Loneliness

Tim padded down the stairs to the hallway, feet barely making a noise. When you've been part of the bat-family for a few years, you learned that silence and darkness were your best allies.

He shivered slightly as he passed the empty bedrooms in the corridor. He knew that Jason hadn't set foot in his room since his death, and Dick hadn't come since Bruce died. Tim himself hadn't been here in a while. His apartment had recently been involved in a 'gas leak'- in reality, being set off by a bomb. So when Alfred offered Tim his old bedroom back, what incentive did he have to say no?

Well, Bruce, for one. But Tim was tired of running away from a man who was barely home anyway.

For a brief moment, Tim wondered whether Bruce wasn't here because Tim was there, or because Damian was. Or maybe both. Bruce did have a way of dumping his children.

The night sky outside was a dark blue, seemingly deeper than the black shadows that stretched in front of Tim. The only reason he was even up at this hour was that he'd stayed up late working on a project, and had drank one too many coffee cups. Sleep didn't come to him easily- well, it hadn't come to him at all. So at 2 o'clock in the morning he'd decided to throw in the towel and head to the kitchen for some warm milk or hot chocolate, like Dick used to do when he'd come over and Tim was still awake.

Tim had stayed awake a lot back then.

He paused outside the kitchen when he heard a voice. It was snappy and short, but young, and Tim immediately knew who was inside. He frowned. Damian should've been asleep by now, although he'd never been one to follow the rules. He sidled his way into the kitchen and stood silently in the corner of the room.

"Alfred," Damian sighed, "the world is cruel to your kind."

Alfred- the cat one, not the butler- was curled up on Damian's lap. He purred as Damian stroked him down his back.

A thought struck Tim, hard. Had Damian always been this lonely?

"Making your fur into coats," the youngest Robin lamented. "They are-"

Damian's head suddenly snapped up, facing where Tim was hiding. His face turned into a sneer.

"Drake. Your stealth skills are obviously too weak for me to not spot you," he spat.

Tim sighed and stepped out of the shadows. He was too used to Damian's greetings. The novelty of hatred had long since worn off.

"Damian," he said, because calling him 'Wayne' or 'Robin' would've just made Damian even prouder. "What are you doing here?"

Damian scoffed. "I live here. What are you doing here?"

"Didn't Alfred tell you? I'm staying for a while. My apartment blew up."

For a second, Damian looked at his cat curiously, as if wondering whether Alfred the Cat had been the one to invite Tim over. Damian blushed suddenly as he realised his mistake.

For Tim, this side of Damian had always tasted sour. The part that was almost normal. The part where, no matter how much Damian tried to hurt Tim, he was just a child.

And Tim understood that. Tim understood that part of Damian.

Which made it all the more painful when Damian tried to cover it up.

"Of course you got your apartment blown up," Damian snarled. "That's just you. I would never have let that happen."

"Right," Tim said, rolling his eyes. "Back to the point. What are doing up so late?"

Damian looked down. "I guess I am used to going on patrol."

"Are you still benched?"

A fleeting flurry of emotions rushed across Damian's face. Perhaps he, like Tim, was remembering that night on the roof. Or maybe he just didn't like to think about having let Batman down.

"Yes," he said. "But it isn't permanent," he hastily added on.

Tim took a seat next to Damian. When he looked closer at Damian's face, he realised his eyes were rimmed red.

Not from insomnia, then. He was awake for another reason.

"...Did you have a nightmare?"

Damian stiffened, which for him, meant a 'yes'. "No. What makes you suggest such an idea?"

"Whoa, it's cool. Everyone has one sometimes. Especially people in our business," Tim soothed.

Damian shook his head. "You're deluded, Drake. I did not have a nightmare. I'm not weak."

The absolute tone of defiance in his words shocked Tim. Red Robin had always sort of known Damian had had a problem with being 'weak'- Dick, and his own experiences, had told him that much. But not until now had he realised that Damian thought being normal was equal to being weak.

And not until now had he realised how much of a problem it had been. Had nobody ever told him that it was okay, to be what he was?

"I didn't say you were," Tim intoned calmly. "I just asked you if you had a nightmare."

It seemed like Tim's calmness had started to get on Damian's nerves. It was often like this. People who didn't react, who forced themselves not to, seemed inhuman.

It was Batman that had taught him to do that.

Did he teach that to Damian too?

"I didn't! Why would you think such a thing?!"

Tim bit his lip. "It's okay if you had one. But, you know, a cat isn't the best company."

Damian sighed in frustration. Having been raised as an assassin, Damian had grown up in a place where secrets and lies were as needed as the truth. But the family that Tim had grown up in, even through all the deceit, deaths, and destruction, had always had a need for the truth.

It was insatiable. Truth, and justice. Those were the things they stood for.

"...It's none of your business," Damian said flatly. Still defiant, but he changed his tactics, and that was as much of a surrender as any.

Tim decided to change his tactics, too. He didn't want a confession out of Damian. He didn't want him to give in, to surrender like he had.

He just wanted Damian to be happy.

So he hugged him.

"...Drake," he said, slightly alarmed, "what are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you, demon brat," Tim replied, and this time he let his voice fill with emotion. Because how could living with someone who kept his emotions barred help Damian let go of his own?

"Why?"

Tim matched Damian's earlier sigh. "Maybe because I care about you," he snapped.

"Why?" Damian cried. "Why do you care about me?!"

Tim looked at him, hard. "Why do I care? I care because you're my only little brother and I love you!"

Damian fell silent, and Tim took this as his cue to continue. "I... you don't have to keep pretending to be above me, because you're not. You're not above making mistakes, having nightmares, and talking to your cat at two o'clock in the morning. And, you know what? That's okay! That's okay because nobody can be strong forever. That's okay because you don't have to prove yourself to anyone, because you don't have to be Batman. You can just be Damian Wayne, the fourth Robin, who likes to think being normal is weak and being wrong is bad. You can just be... you."

Tim took a deep breath and let Damian go. He'd said a lot of things he hadn't meant to, and a lot of things he had.

But, at least, someone had to tell Damian it was okay. Even if that someone was him.

"...What if I do it wrong?"

Tim started. "What? What do you mean?"

Damian huffed. "What if I... don't know how to be myself?"

Tim cocked his head as he considered this.

"Don't be afraid," he said finally. It was the best advice that Bruce had given him in his whole life.

Don't be afraid, he'd said. And, I'll always be with you.

"I'll always be with you."

Damian scrunched up his nose. "That sappiness is unbefitting of you," he said disdainfully.

Was that a compliment? Tim wondered. Nothing had ever been unbefitting of Tim before. It was always either 'too incompetent' or 'only Drake would do that.'

"That's just who I am," Tim said easily.

And maybe, just maybe, the little twitch of Damian's eye meant respect. Hiding respect was one of Damian's traits, but reading people was one of Tim's. It worked like that. It was nice, like they were partners, one fitting in with the other.

Alfred had long since fallen asleep, but had awoken again and started meowing for Damian's attention. Damian gave it to him, in that tender way he had with animals, and suddenly Tim was very grateful for Alfred and Bruce and whatever his other pets were called.

As long as Damian was never truly lonely, he'd be alright.

And Tim was there to make sure of that.

Hey guys, I'm back! This is another multi-chaptered story I hope to finish. This is set within the Confrontations universe, just because I can. :P This is a Damian-centric story, suggested by IzXaRose. So, thanks to IzXaRose for suggesting it! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review/like/acknowledge my story. Thank you!