Some nights are bad ones. Tim learned that a long time ago, back when he was just a kid running around with a camera watching Batman and Robin. So when Nightwing climbs in through his bedroom window and just stands there, Tim knows.
“Hey.” He speaks softly and makes sure Nightwing sees him when he moves closer.
Nightwing lifts his head, gaze settling on Tim. He doesn't say anything, but the lines of exhaustion on his face do. He doesn't look hurt, no visible injuries, but in Gotham that doesn't mean anything.
“Come here.” Tim holds his hand out, waits, and after several long moments Nightwing takes his hand, lets Tim draw him in for a hug. Tim wraps his arms around him. “Bad night?”
Nightwing snorts, breath warm on Tim's neck. “That obvious?”
Tim smiles. “Little bit, yeah.” He tightens his arms and holds on until Nightwing turns back into Dick.