Chapter Text
He heard the snap. It wasn't a loud or distinctly recognizable sound, but to Dick it was the loudest thing he had ever heard. His grappling line snapped, each thin titanium laced nylon cord giving out and pulling all the others with it. He wasn't high off the ground when it happened, thank whatever god there was for that. But he also wasn't low ,maybe about fifteen feet up or so. Not enough to kill him but enough to see the memory of his parents flash before his eyes before the impact of the concrete on his body. In his shock, he somehow had managed to curl up so that he minimized the damage of the impact.
He felt the adrenaline buzzing throughout his body as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position on the concrete. His muscles hurt from the fall but as he carefully stretched every limb he seemed to have no broken bones and he thanked the gods for the second time that night that he was uninjured. Moving slowly he forced himself to get up onto his feet from the sitting position, he put weight on one ankle all was good so far, he put weight on the other - scratch that, he wasn't uninjured his ankle was definitely twisted. Biting back the pain he picked up the grappling gun and examined the frayed cord, the titanium lacing seemed to be rusted. This gun had probably been on its way out for some time now and he had just not noticed.
Irritation at himself and the entire situation burned at the back of his throat. He was putting the gun back on his belt when suddenly he heard his name "Dickie-Bird." His breathing stopped, he was frozen where he stood. Looking around desperately he tried to see who had just called him, he frantically hoped that someone from his family had chosen that night to impede on his territory but he didn't see anyone else there. "Dickie Bird look at us" He heard the voice again behind him, it seemed too familiar yet he couldn't quite place it. He swung around ignoring the shooting pain that went up through his ankle and a rock hit his stomach. In front of him was his parents.
"Why'd you let us fall Dickie-bird?" His mother was talking and her voice sounded like ice. He stumbled back a few steps tripping on litter and falling onto his ass. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to block out the sounds of his dead parents taunting him, this couldn't be happening right now. He couldn't be having flashbacks right now,all by himself, injured, and in the middle of a very bad neighborhood at high crime hour. This was possibly the actual worst time for this to be happening. He whispered to himself ' they're not real, just breathe. They're not real ,just breathe' like it was some kind of mantra. If a civilian or a villain were to come upon him now it would just be a pathetic sight. The great Nightwing sitting on his ass in a dirty ally rocking himself slightly (in attempts to calm himself), sobbing, and muttering to himself in a jumbled mix of Romani and english, with his eyes squeezed closed and his ears covered fruitlessly by his hands like a scared child . Really if someone were to come upon him now he couldn't have even noticed he was so taken in the flashbacks and on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
After several long minutes, he stopped hearing his parents voice and several minutes after that he opened his eyes to see the hallucinations gone. He managed to pull himself up from the dirty floor and adjust so he was putting as little weight as possible on his ankle. At that moment his stomach turned and he barely had time to support himself against a wall before his stomach was painfully forcing out all its contents. He sunk to his knees again bracing himself against the brick wall, his whole body was shaking and new tears started falling down his cheeks from the pain of his stomach twisting and convulsing so violently inside him. He wished somebody, anybody, would find him but the night was silent. After he managed to get control of himself he though of what to do next, he needed to go back to his apartment. No, going to his apartment was a bad idea, if he had one flashback it meant that he could have more and even in his unfocused state he knew to be alone when he had flashbacks was a bad idea especially if they were going to potentially trigger hullucinations. At a young age, they had learned that during flashbacks and nightmares dick was very prone to hurting himself without meaning to and sometimes rather severely even to the point of needing stitches.
No, he couldn't go back to his apartment he needed to go home. To Gotham, and the Mansion, and his family just so someone would be there if he accidentally hurt himself. After several long minutes he decided that he would go back to the mansion and wake up Damian, his youngest brother was the most efficient at getting him back from that dark place in his mind, He assessed his situation. He didn't trust himself to ride his bike, he didn't have a spare grappling gun - not that he would use it if he did. He'd have to walk to the nearest Zeta tube and port to Gotham then walk to the mansion and sneak in his window. It was painful to walk but he did it anyway cause he still, however foolish it may be, had too much pride to call for help because that means he would have to explain that he neglected his equipment to the point it broke.
He knew his window would be cracked open. Not by much, just enough to get his fingers under so he could undo the lock without setting off an alarm and let himself in. After he had moved out (and then extended to his two brothers after they had moved away) this had become one of the unwritten rules of the house. Jason, Tim, and Him were allowed back whenever they wanted. Their windows would always be cracked for them and in the mornings when Alfred was waking up Damian and Bruce for breakfast he would always check the other boy's rooms just in case. The other two boys rarely used this open unspoken invitation back to the mansion but Dick used it fairly regularly (at least every two or three months) for a variety of different reasons ranging from him being sick or injured to him genuinely just missing Alfred's cooking. It really didn't matter why the boys had come home, nobody was surprised when someone joined them unexpectedly at the table for breakfast. Or when they walked up on a brother in the middle of the night that they hadn't even known, was there. It had just become one of the normal things in the increasingly odd family. Former Robins came and went from the Mansion and the secret cave like it was a central station, and in a way it was.
The nearest Zeta tube to the mansion was a couple of blocks away, it hurt but after roughly wrapping it with an ice bandage in his supply belt he managed to walk all the way there without another panic attack but he definitely heard the voices of his parents and Zucco surrounding him threatening to tear away his peace. This was going to be a long ass night. He was shaking from pain and anxiety which made getting up the tree to his room difficult. All the robin's room were on the third floor of the mansion, it was originally meant to stop them from sneaking out but that hadn't really worked. He fumbled in climbing the tree and his foot slipped letting a branch cut his arm and his uniform, something he would have never let happen on a normal night. Shaking hands made it hard to open the lock and he was so frustrated he actually thought of just breaking it and letting the alarm go off but he took a deep breath and finally got it opened.
He opened it just enough to slide in and then shut and locked it. This would set off a sensor on the bat computer if Batman was still awake he now knew that Dick was home. He stripped off the Nightwing costume as fast as he could and throwing on sweats instead. "RICHARD!" He heard his fathers voice this time, scolding him with his full name. Something so rare to hear his parents call him anything but Dick or Robin. He stumbled back sinking onto the floor with his back to a wall before looking around for the hallucinations of his parents. They were at the foot of his bed, bleeding and broken. There necks at odd angles, arms bent back and twisted to unnatural positions even for them, and their ribs protruding in odd spots through their acrobatic uniforms. He wanted to close his eyes, to wish it all away but he felt like he had no strength to do anything but stare at them. "Richard! This is your fault, you were supposed to check the rope" THey walked to him and he felt a scream get stuck in his throat, he was hyperventilating and tears streamed down his face.
He wanted to tell them that he had checked the rope before the show, it wasn't until after he had checked it that Zucco had weakened it with acid. This wasn't his fault, he hadn't been the one to kill them. He hadn't been the one to get them killed, he was just a child. He looked around the room again but he wasn't seeing the room. He was seeing the High-top tent, the trapeze. His parents were gone and Zucco was standing on the wooden platform with the acid bucket in his hands. He was dripping it on the strings, enough to weaken them but not the break them - not yet. He saw his parents on the stand, he was supposed to be up there with them. He wanted to scream to tell them to not go, the ropes were weak. He tried to move, to scream but he was glued to his spot. He wanted to look away, he couldn't. He wanted to warn them, he couldn't. He wanted to do anything other than just stand there watching them in slow motion waving at the crowd, starting the performance, falling
falling
.
falling
.
falling
.
falling
.
falling
.
blood
That's all there was, blood. His vision had gone red and all he could see and smell was blood. He didn't know where he was now, not the circus, not his room. On top of a building, he looked at his hands, black gloves large heavy Kevlar. He was Batman, he looked to his side - Damian, Robin. "I'll radio you when I'm in position" Damian spoke pointedly. This had happened, Batman had been off-world and Dick had been filling in. It had been raining, Damian's Grappling Gun jerked in the wind, his hand slipped, he fell. DIck had caught him and nobody was injured. But now Dick couldn't move, he wanted to get up to save Damian from falling but he couldn't move from his spot crouched on the roof watching everything happen. Damian fell into the alley blood ran with the rain into the sewer, he was dead and Dick was still glued in the same position watching the blood pool under his brother.
Once again there was nothing but blood, everything was red like a large empty room or nothingness. Damian and his Parents stood in front of him broken and bloody with body parts at unnatural angles. Their eyes were all glossed over and unseeing, they were all dead. "This is your fault" THey chanted at him "This is all your fault, why didn't you catch usand stop this, why didn't you save us." They grabbed onto him ripping and scratching his skin.
Someone said his name, it wasn't any of the three hullucinated figures in front of him. It was softer, kinder, more gentle but he couldn't place it. He looked around the red room, the broken figures were now gone and he was alone. He knew he was still in the middle of a flashback induced hallucination but he could hear that voice, he just needed to focus on that voice. It felt like years but the red started to give way to his room and he saw Damian crouching in front of him. His throat felt tight as he raked his eyes over the room making sure the broken figures were no longer in the room. No, no broken bloody figures. He looked his little brother in the eye trying to centre himself in present, his eyes weren't glossed over and grey. They were the same green as Bruces.
"I-I'm sorry" He voice was scratchy and rough "Wa-was I scr-screaming?" He stuttered. He was hoping that Damian had just found him by coincidence and he hadn't started screaming and waking everyone up. It may have been normal for the boys to come home at random points in the night but it would never be normal to hear someone screaming out in fear and pain when you didn't even know they were there. The young man just shook his head gently and wiped a tear from Dick's cheek.
"I heard crying" He whispered as not to scare Dick. His room was right beside the older man's and while the walls were not thin they were thin enough that broken sobs coming from the next room over could wake up a light sleeper such as Damian. "I wanted to check on you, make sure you were uninjured."
Damian didn't offer any more explanation and Dick didn't need it. His brother had heard him crying and came over to check, he had found him on the floor by his bed sobbing and having flashbacks. He was probably minimally responsive and pale. "I'm sorry" he whispered again, his voice broke "I fe-fell, Flas-flashback trig-trig-triggered ha-ha-hallu-hullucinations, panic at-at-atta-atta.." He stopped. God, he was so stupid, he was the older brother he was supposed to take care of his brother, not the other way around.
He was supposed to take care of his brother
He was susposed to make sure his brother was safe
He was supposed to stop him from falling
He didn't stop him from falling
He should have stopped him from falling
He let him f...
"Stop" Damian's voice was gentle but serious. Damian had enough flashbacks to notice when someone was starting to spiral back into that dark pit and Dick had definitely started to spiral again. his breathing was borderline hyperventilating and a new wave of tears had welled up in his eyes. "Don't go back there, there is nothing you need back there."
Dick knew what he meant but it still hurt, he still felt like he couldn't breath. The room felt too small, he wasn't getting enough oxygen. His hands were shaking and digging into his arm. Black had started to splotch his vision. "Im - im - im - im - scared - im scared" He whispered. Damian was in front of him, alive but he couldn't help it. Every time he looked him in the eyes he saw the glazed over grey, the blood, the fear etched into his dead body. Damian just nodded and rubbed his arm reassuringly.
"You need to breath" Damian reminded him "Or you will pass out and i will have to get father." No no no Dick didn't want to wake up Bruce or anyone else, he knew most the family was home that night and didn't want to break down infront of everyone. He tried to breath in but choked on the air and ended up in a coughing fit, the second attempt was more successful and eventually his breath were stable. A little quick and a bit shallow, but stable. He felt dizzy, sick, and weak. After Dick was breathing more normally Damian took the time to ask "You fell?"
Dick nodded, "Cord.. grap um grappling cord snapped, I i i think I think it was rusted" He managed to stutter out, cursing himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. Grabbing the gun from his belt he handed it to Damian who examined to cord on it for a while. For a little bit they didn't talk, Dick focused on breathing and Damian examined the cord noting that the rust was "surface deep" and "wouldn't have resulted in this type of snapping".
"NO!" Dick suddenly gasped trying to back into the wall, his breathing picked up again and his eyes looked wide. Behind Damian he saw his parents appear, still bloody and broke, still accusing him of letting them fall. His breathing started to pick up again and he covered his ears trying to block out their voices "no,no,no,no,no,no" he muttered. This sudden just from seemingly calming down to completely freaking out again startled damian and he quickly looked around the room to see what had set Dick off again. Nothing, there was nothing there. "Mami, Tati, no, please no" the scared man muttered sounding weak.
"Grayson? Grayson look at me!" Damian was demanding, the unexpected shift had startled him. Dick didn't want to look, he was scared to open his eyes and see them. Damian seemed to notice this method wasn't working and decided to try something new. "Whats your name" He asked gently, touching dick knee.
"D-Di-Dick Gray-grayson" He stuttered out without moving form his position. At least if he was talking he was breathing
"And how old are you?" Damian asked, hoping this was helping
"Eigh....nine...teen"
"How old are you?" Damian asked again, hearing Dick answer eight the first time broke his heart. He must have been really wrapped up in the tramua, Damian wondered how long he had been like this before Damian had found him.
"Nineteen" Dick answered correctly this time
"Okay and do you know where you are?"
"Circus... no a roof .. no no no no um.. umm.. um.. " His breathing seemed to be slowing down to a normal rate"I'm ... I'm in the manor" he finally whispered. Damian nodded silently
"Can you open your eyes?"
"no, scared" Dick seemed to go pale and his had came up to cover his mouth, he felt sick. Thick saliva filled his mouth and he bit is tongue hard trying to push it all away, he wasn't going to throw up. He tasted the bile building up in the back of his throat making him gag. He pushed his hand harder against his mouth. He could hear Damian shuffling around and then he hear the small metal trashcan, the one he kept by his bed, sat down in front of him. He felt damain's warm had on his back whispering something softly but his blood was rushing in his ears and he coulnd't hear it. He grabbed the rim of the small trashcan blindly and leaned over it, still unwilling to let go control. It only maintained control for a few more seconds before his stomach decided to constrict painfull and he barely moved his hand in time for it not to be vomited on.
He hated vomiting but he was one of those people who almsot always threw up when he had panic attacks. When he finally finsihed he looked up patheticly at his brother. His parents wer still there, he wanted to hug Damian and cry till they were gone but he knew the the young man hated that kind of afection so he jsut wrapped his arms around himself silently. It was Damian who pulled him into ahug and he hugged back as tightly as he could and buried his face into the young man's shoulders. Sobs broke free and he was crying uncontrollably into Damian's shoulder, his whole body shaking. Normally Damian would be opposed to the physical contact but he knew that Dick was a very kinesthetic type of person and needed the physical contact. He hugged Dick back until he started feeling him go heavy against his shoulder, probably falling asleep.
"Grayson" he whispered and shook the boy lightly, Dick looked up with tired bloodshot eyes. "We need to stitch up your cuts before you can sleep" Dick finally looked in the body mirror that was on his wall. He had deep dull cuts on his neck, arms, and chest and some looked like the kind that came from nails but the others looked like blade marks. he looked at Damian and saw a bloody Bat-a-rang behind him, his stomach dropped. the blood on his pale skin made him feel sick and dizzy.
"I didn't mean to" He whispered looking at Damian, he had promised Damian during a low point that he would never hurt himself. That's why he had come here instead of his apartment, just in case something like this had happened but he really had planned on getting farther than his bedroom before the memories took over completely.
"I know, Damian said, You weren't here, in this reality so it doesn't count your promise is still good." He looked at Dick and then the Bat-a-rang
"So am I telling Pennysworth that you were losing your mind or should I hide the evidence and tell him you were in a fight and woke me up as soon as you got here" This had more of a joking manner towards it. No matter what Damian told Alfred the butler would know the truth, really the only person they would be lying to is their adopted brothers and the bat himself.
"Tell him I was attacked" Dick whispered gratefully for his brother's willingness to lie for him.
Damian nodded and looked over Dick one more time before running out of the room to wake up Alfred and their father.