Damian's Nightmares

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The soft glow of a nightlight shaped like a bat flickered in the corner of Damian's Batman-themed room. It was the middle of the night, and everything was still—until a muffled whimper broke the silence.

Damian tossed and turned in his bed, clutching Batty tightly to his chest. His brows furrowed, and his small face twisted in fear as the nightmare took hold. In his dream, shadows loomed large and laughter echoed—high-pitched, maniacal, and terrifyingly familiar.

"No..." Damian whimpered in his sleep. "Stop... Papa..."

In the master bedroom down the hall, Bruce's finely tuned instincts stirred him awake. He heard the faint cries before they grew louder, and within moments, he was already out of bed and heading toward Damian's room.

"Damian," Bruce called softly as he opened the door, the light from the hallway spilling in.

The boy shot up with a sharp gasp, his green eyes wide and brimming with tears. He clutched Batty tighter, his chest heaving. "Papa!" he cried out, reaching his arms toward Bruce.

Bruce crossed the room in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Damian into his arms. "Shh, buddy. I'm here. It's okay. It was just a dream."

Damian buried his face in Bruce's chest, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Bruce's t-shirt. "The laughing man was there," Damian said shakily. "He tried to hurt you. He tried to hurt me."

Bruce's jaw tightened at the mention of the Joker, but he forced himself to stay calm for Damian's sake. He rubbed soothing circles on his son's back. "The laughing man can't hurt you, Dami. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

"But he's in my dreams," Damian whispered. "And I can't fight him there."

Bruce held Damian tighter. "You don't have to fight him alone. Whenever you're scared, you can come to me, okay? I'll always be here."

Damian sniffled, looking up at Bruce with wide, tearful eyes. "Always?"

"Always," Bruce promised, pressing a kiss to the top of Damian's head.

The boy's breathing began to slow as he clung to Bruce. After a few minutes, Bruce leaned back slightly, wiping away the stray tears on Damian's cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it more?" Bruce asked gently.

Damian shook his head, then hesitated. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

Bruce smiled softly. "Of course you can."

Scooping Damian up, Batty and all, Bruce carried him back to the master bedroom. He tucked Damian into his bed, lying beside him.

"Batty needs to stay here too," Damian mumbled sleepily as he placed the stuffed toy carefully between them.

"Batty's got your back," Bruce said, adjusting the toy to make sure it was secure.

Damian yawned, already calmer with Bruce at his side. "You too, Papa."

"Always," Bruce repeated, his voice steady.

As Damian drifted off to sleep, Bruce stayed awake a little longer, his protective instincts on high alert. He couldn't protect Damian from every nightmare, but he could be there to chase the shadows away—and that, Bruce thought, was enough.

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