I'm experimenting with the style i use for my spider-man fics on ao3 so tell me how it looks here

TW:BLOOD

Sleep doesn't come easy when you're a vigilante. Especially when you were a child hero flipping and kicking your way through life until someone smacked you with reality. A good night's sleep usually came from no dreams, but those were few and far between. A liveable night's sleep was a nightmare or two before falling asleep again from sheer exhaustion. Tonight's was neither of those. Tonight's sleep for two vigilantes was restless and filled to the brim with fear. Those two were Jason and Dick. Neither were in the same home yet when night came, neither could sleep right and gave up their venture in the early hours of the morning. 

Dick had woken up with a scream and his body drenched with sweat. He groaned to himself, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes as though that would chase away the remaining images of the nightmare. He had quite a few regulars he'd accumulated over the years but tonight was a classic. It almost made him nostalgic but that type of nostalgia that made you want to hug your younger self and tell them everything would be okay. His throat was raw and he wondered how long he'd been shouting for someone to help. That's what other people said he did. It made sense given this nightmare was one of the first times he thought that he wasn't going to be saved. He'd thought it would be curtains closed on Robin. Yet here he was. Dick knew why it still bothered him, the joys of childhood trauma, but he knew logically that fear shouldn't be lingering in his stomach as he sat alone in his lonely apartment. No more sleep, he decided silently. There was no getting sleep after that particular nightmare. As he got changed out of his sweaty pyjamas into an oversized Superman shirt, his mind recounted the nightmare against his will. 

It began with Two Face towering over him although when Dick was Robin that was no particularly hard feat. There was a bat but sometimes it would morph into another weapon. He just got a bat this time. His memory was so foggy that he couldn't remember if that was right or wrong. Batman yells in the background though it's overshadowed by the crunching of his bones being smashed and fractured. There's a familiar metallic taste in his mouth though he doesn't remember the hit to the face. The best way to describe the experience was to compare it to the first Saw movie's editing. Jagged and sharp cuts that are meant to be disorientating and make you seasick despite you sitting on your couch. Imagine that and you have Dick's perspective. Splashing gets louder and quieter throughout the experience as he's made to remember the man who paid with his life for Dick's prior pride. He supposed he still had that pride although it's better managed nowadays. The hits feel real and Dick can now feel the phantom pains follow him out of the nightmare as he walks around his apartment not quite sure what to do with himself. Taunts feel like hits all on their own but he knows they're not the original quotes. They've been warped to prey on whatever insecurity was floating around his brain. Then he wakes up.

With his brain finishing up the reminder he truly didn't need, Dick found himself in the kitchen and a glass in his hand. His subconscious must've had a good idea as he realised how dry his mouth was and how his throat was begging for something to soothe it. He turned on the tap and filled up the glass, chugging the contents as though he'd just finished a marathon on the way from his bedroom to the kitchen. He filled it up again and took slower sips this time, smacking his lips when he was halfway through and pouring the rest down the drain. He watched it trickle down before placing his glass on the side to be washed later. Well, that was his idea but he knew he would forget why it was there and not clean it. He was the only one there so he supposed it didn't matter. He leans against the counter and thinks to himself about what exactly he's going to do with his time now that he's sworn off sleeping and he's been forced to take a break. Luckily, or unluckily given the circumstances, his fellow Robin in Gotham hardly sleeps. It probably isn't very nice to take advantage of someone not getting rest but he can't find it in himself to care as he searched for his phone. 

Jason's eyes snapped open and he stares at the ceiling for a few minutes as he tries to catch the breath that feels miles in front of him. He managed to get a hold of himself as he grabbed and pinched at his skin to make sure it was all still there. A chill washes over him and he pulled his blankets over his shoulders to chase it away. He'd never been a fan of the cold, Robin costume be damned. It'd been cold when he woke up after his death, the world has gone on without him for years and his title is being passed on to someone else. Jason rubbed his lips, wiping the thin layer of sweat from his upper lip, and tried to remember his nightmare but it'd already gone. All it had left with a lingering despise for sleep and the decision to give up on the concept altogether for at least tonight. He could never remember his dreams. Others could and he didn't know if he was jealous about that or not. On the one hand, it would be nice to try and address what made him strike off a basic need. On the other hand, he'd rather not be haunted by whatever images his traumatised brain could conjure up. People had guessed what his nightmares could be and he'd humour them by agreeing merely because they made sense. Being beaten up and then blown up was particularly nightmare worthy. His actions during the years he was filled with rage could hold enough shame for those nightmares that made you feel dirty. There were probably thousands of things going on in his mind that could keep him up at night. He turned over on his side and grabbed his phone from his bedside cabinet to check the time. Too fucking early. Jason grumbled a few swears underneath his breath as he let his arm hang over the bed, still clutching the phone although he had no real plans for the device. He searched for any feelings of hunger or thirst that would force him to leave his very warm blankets but luckily found he was absent of either. Small blessings. He let his head fall against the pillow and closed his eyes with no intent to sleep. The walls were just boring to look at. There needed to be a window in his room so he could at least look at the clouds or see a bomb go off in the far distance. 

A faint buzzing drew him away from his thoughts of home renovation and the vibrating in his hand directed his attention to his phone. If this was Bruce, he was going to make a window to throw his phone through. He dragged his arm back up and glanced at the contact, breathing a sigh of relief when it was labelled Goldie. Dick was calling him. Perhaps with a mission or some good piece of drama that allowed them to bitch about their shared mentor. Jason turned to lie on his back and answered the call, putting it on speakerphone and laying the device beside him so he didn't have to go through the effort of pressing it to his ear. "What've you got for me?" Jason asked.

"Not much, unfortunately," Dick answered quietly. He sounded croaky and the younger suspected that he was having an equally as restless night. "I uh- I wondered what you were up to."

"Sleeping," he deadpanned. 

"Oh, sorry I didn't mean-"

"No, no, it's fine," he quickly said. He didn't want the phone call to end. It was weird. If Dick were in the room then he would be yelling at him to leave and kick him out because he didn't need someone but with a phone screen between them, he could indulge in the company. He didn't want to be alone right now and neither did Dick by the sounds of it. "I was trying but now I'm not."

"Nightmares?" Dick asked. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he made an affirmative noise. "Same on my side."

"Yeah? What were yours about?" he inquired. It was the best conversation topic he had at hand that wasn't talking about the weather or complaining about Bruce's invitation to a gala in a week's time. Somehow he didn't think either was appropriate. 

"You don't wanna hear about that," the older brushed off.

"C'mon Goldie. Humour me since I don't remember my own. I'm still banned from the cinemas so this is the best I'm gonna get to a blockbuster," he answered back. 

"That's what you get for serving yourself."

"I was helping the line!"

"You used a popcorn bucket as a refillable cup," Dick chuckled. He'd fallen over laughing when he first heard the tale which was a great comparison to the lecture from Bruce. Jason supposed that's why Dick was such a solid older brother figure for the family. He laughed at your bullshit antics but knew when to tell you off if you went too far. Unless your name was Damian. That kid could get away with anything. "It might be triggering for you," he added, getting back to their previous line of conversation. Jason frowned at that and turned to his phone. That was rather ambiguous given how much they'd both been through. 

"I wanna hear it. I'm in an alright place with everything."

"Yeah, waking up from nightmares just screams I'm in an emotionally good place." There was a crackly sigh on the other end before he continued. "I did something stupid as Robin. You probably know because it'd work as a good lecture about negotiations and all that." A Robin inspired nightmare? Count Jason as invested. There was always that child inside of him that begged for the original protege to slip up and show he wasn't perfect even though he was no longer Robin. Maybe this is what people meant when they said to heal your inner child. "Two Face kinda almost beat me to death." Yeah, this definitely wasn't what people meant when they said to heal your inner child. "I uh I played his stupid game and stuff like that, it doesn't really matter."

"Was the dream about you being beat to death?" There was a hum. "Shit man, sorry. Bats never mentioned it."

"It's not the worst of the nightmares in the rolladex but it shook me up I think. It was the first time I really thought no one was coming to get me. Evidently, I was saved but it always reminds me someone might not be there for when I fuck up which is something I knew already but it's like global warming. You know it's there but you're not actively thinking about it," he explained. 

"Why aren't you going out and punching something?" he asked. That would be his go-to if he actually remembered what caused his nightmares. Even if he didn't, he would go out there and punch someone in the face. The only thing keeping him in bed was being warm. 

"I have to take a break from Nightwing or a certain ginger will handcuff me to a bed and feed me melatonin. Usually, I'd call their bluff but last time I did that, it actually happened."

"That could be like five different people. You collect gingers like Pokemon cards."

"I'm just that attractive." He could hear the dullness in the taunting tone he was accustomed to volleying with. It was devoid of that certain spark and if he was more self-aware, he'd noticed the same lacklustre presence of his own spark. 

A lull in the conversation made Jason get antsy and suddenly say, "Yknow, I'm not sleeping tonight. You could come over and keep me company. Roy got me a new game." He could feel Dick's smile through the phone and that part of him that he'd tried to keep suppressed was annoyed at giving in so easily but who was he kidding? He needed someone here to make sure he was definitely still here and Dick needed someone because that's who he was. This was a win-win situation. Besides, his older brother (figure) was good at games and he could be good practice before he schooled Roy. 

"I'll get my coat. Want any pizza? I'm passing the place on 5th."

"Separate pizzas or Two Face won't be the only one who nearly beat you to death." He cringed at himself for making the joke. What kind of reply was that?

"You're acting like you wouldn't want to join the hall of fame for the people who kicked my ass." Thank fuck for the dark humour they shared. He smiled to himself upon hearing a soft cackle follow the retort. 

"I'll see you in a bit Goldie."

"See you soon Lil Wing." He hung up and tutted to himself. When did he become so soft? Yet he couldn't find it in him to be angry at himself for it. The company would be nice and hell, this could count as family bonding time. Something they both admittedly needed more of.