Chapter Text
Dick
Dick couldn't remember what possessed him to take a nap in the Red Hood's rafters the first time. He suspected he'd never recover the exhausted thought process that led him to it.
As best he could recall? It was his second or third major case with the Red Hood (with Jason, his baby brother, his alive baby brother), and he was really just trying to not totally muck up their tenuous relationship. Jason was letting him hang around and Dick didn't want to do something to break it.
Months of slowly building trust had gotten him an olive branch to say hi on patrol, then an assist in a fight, and finally the ask to help with a case. This was the second (third?) one, and Dick didn't want Jason to have any reason to write him off as unreliable and too useless to have around. It'd happened before. It had been true before.
So yeah, no mistakes this time, idiot. Do not be the reason you never see your brother again.
Except, as much as he could work past it, as much as he could deny it, Dick had limits. He was human (unfortunate failure of his, he knew), and they were on hour... something or other... of little to no sleep at a break neck pace. The case was going well, just intense. But Dick wasn't going to complain. This was the first time Jason had taken him to his personal safehouse office (the one nobody knew the location of, despite Bruce's best efforts) and like hell was Dick going to let a little tiredness ruin this newfound trust. He was dependable dammnit. He wasn't just going to bail to get some sleep if Jason was still going strong.
It was just...
The rafters looked pretty comfy as a spot to hang out while the analytics ran. Dick was too tired to talk and Jason wasn't much for conversation. If he was up there then maybe he could close his eyes a moment and just rest his mind.
Dick crawled up into the rafters, got comfy, and settled in to wait.
He woke up hours later and nearly fell out of the ceiling as he realized he'd fallen asleep with a jolt.
"Do not break your skull falling out of those," Jason snapped.
"Sorry, shit- didn't mean to fall asleep-" Dick scrambled to explain. I wasn't slacking off on you, I promise I'm here-
Jason locked a scowl at him. "If you needed sleep, why didn't you pick somewhere safer?"
Dick blinked at him, bleary eyed and confused. "Safer?" Where else could be safer than up high out of reach? Who was going to bust into the Red Hood's office? Which, it wasn't like he meant to fall asleep in the first place.
There was an awkward, thought laden pause between the two of them. Jason was clearly not saying something and Dick didn't understand why he wasn't getting reemed for falling asleep.
"I have a couch," Jason said and Dick basically bluescreened him.
"You're not..." Mad? went unsaid.
"Going to kick you out for falling asleep?"
Dick nodded.
"No, but I might wring your neck if you fall out of there and break your head."
Oh.
Jason was worried. Not mad. The realization filled Dick's exhaustion addled head with warmth and his anxiety settled to something boneless and comfortable. He wedged himself more securely into the beams.
"Wake me up when its done running?"
Jason grunted irritably at him. Dick fell back asleep feeling safer than he had in a while. And a few hours later, when the analytics came back? His younger brother woke him up to go over the results.
...
Jason
The first time Nightwing took a nap in the rafters probably wasn't a big deal to Dick but it was to Jason.
Not for the reasons one might assume. Less spiteful 'guess the golden child isn't as perfect as he wants everyone to think' like he might've thought before and more startled 'someone trusts me enough to fall asleep with me on guard'.
This was the third time Nightwing had helped Red Hood with a case, and Jason hadn't really been thinking when he brought Dick back to his safehouse. He hated giving the smallest inch of his space but this hadn't bothered him. Maybe it was the exhaustion.
Granted, then Dick had disappeared. Jason's immediate assumption had been that he was snooping or contacting the rest of the bats. What a f***ing stupid idea, Jason, bringing him to this safehouse. He's just working for Bruce, you knew it all along- and then his helmet system had caught soft creaks above him.
Jason had his gun on the intruder in his rafters in a heartbeat, only to stop dead. That was Nightwing. Nightwing who hadn't left, but was fast asleep on the thick wooden beams of Jason's safehouse ceiling. Which was the last damn thing Jason expected. He holstered his weapon again.
Friendly as Dick Grayson was? Getting him to actually drop his guard and rest was nigh impossible. Either he was close to dead and hiding an injury- or Jason had suddenly qualified as "safe space".
Given that he was pretty sure Dick wasn't hiding any injuries, that left option number two.
What the f***.
Jason stewed on it, promptly wide-the-hell-awake, for the following three hours until his older brother nearly rolled onto the drafting table below him.
As agile as Dick Grayson could be, sleeping in the rafters and startling awake was a shit idea. Jason nearly had a heart attack when Dick woke up. If he was going to nap, why the f*** would he pick somewhere to fall to his death? Had he not learned his lesson?
"Do not break your skull falling from those," Jason snapped, mostly to draw attention to surroundings in case his brother had forgotten he was fifteen feet up. Not because he was worried and his heart rate had gone through the roof.
"Sorry, shit- didn't mean to fall asleep-"
As if that was the problem here.
Exasperated, Jason said. "If you needed sleep, why didn't you pick somewhere safer?" Like the ground, or a chair, or his own f***ing bed. Did he have a habit of napping places that could get him killed? Was the 'Red Hood, mass murderer' aspect not enough? Did he have to add heights to it too?
"...Safer?" Dick blinked blearily at him. As if he couldn't understand what could possibly be safer than falling asleep in Jason's rafters.
Jason didn't know what to say to that. Neither did Dick, apparently. They sat there for a while.
"I have a couch." Jason eventually found himself saying.
Dick stared at him like he'd grown two heads. Jason could practically see the war going on in his skull. "You're not..."
What? Worried? Concerned? Suddenly feeling the Pit crawl up his throat to play guard dog? "Going kick you out for falling asleep?"
Dick's face had slowly melted into that of wincing, kicked puppy and he nodded.
How the f*** had his idiot bother decided this was a safe place to sleep if he was freaking out about it? It sat under Jason's skin like a mosquito bite.
"No, but I might wring your neck if you fall out of there and break your head."
Jason didn't know what it meant that the corner of Dick's mouth quirked up and the tension bled from him. He wedged more securely into the beams
"Wake me up when it's done running?"
Jason grunted irritably. Sure, whatever. He'd wake up the bird when he crashed to the ground and needed an ER visit. But Dick didn't fall out of the rafters. The Pit simmered quietly under Jason's skin.
When the machine went off and Jason woke his brother up, he couldn't shake the sense of careful responsibility in his gut. It felt an awful lot like trust if he stopped to think on it.