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Chapter Text

Please don't mind the spelling/grammar errors. The story is currently under revision and editing.

Chapter Text

Warning: This first chapter is a graphic depiction of his dream/memory of being raped, if you don't want to read it just skip to the next chapter everything will still make sense. 

Nightwing stumbled as he landed on the rooftop, he felt dizzy and was having trouble breathing. The rain was cold but he somehow he felt too hot. What had he done? how had he allowed her to kill? he knew he was slowly going into emotional shock but he couldn't bring himself to care. His limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, his eyes were blurry, his head pounded, it felt like there was an anvil on his chest. what had he done?

He was sitting on his knees when Tarantula landed in front of him. What had he done? what had he done? He let her kill him, he let her kill, he was a killer. He tried to breathe through the anvil weight constricting his lungs. He was a killer, a disappointment, a failure. He felt himself being slowly pushed back onto the roof. It was Tarantula who was slowly laying him back. "Don't touch me" he whispered out weakly, Tarantula straddled his hips assuring him everything was okay, but it wasn't okay. How could it be okay, he was a killer?

"Poisonous" he muttered "numb, I... we killed him" With every passing second he felt strength leaving his body. He was numb to everything, the cold, Tarantulas weight, the loud Bludhaven streets below, it all swirling into one blurred numb pain. 

"Tsk, I killed him" Tarantula adjusted herself on his groin and reached up to take down her bun. Dick felt his body reacting to her movements, why was he reacting he didn't want this? 

"You were my responsibility" he argued weakly but she just put her hand on his chest and pushed him back against the roof. He didn't have the strength to fight her, he was so weak and numb. 

"Quiet" she ordered and leaned down putting a finger over his lips.

"Don't touch me" He protested one more time, weak and confused. She wasn't listening to him anymore, her hand went down to the zipper on his uniform pulling it down. He wanted to fight her but he didn't have the strength to more, he just let his head loll to the side and closed his eyes. He could feel her grinding against him, his body was reacting as if he wanted this to happen. He was getting hard and he felt hormones flood his bloodstream, he didn't want this. Tears began to stream down his face, mixed with the rainwater. He wished childishly that Batman would come and save him, Batman wouldn't save him, he was a failure.

He tried to close his legs so she couldn't touch him, but she was stronger than him at the moment and pushed them back open. Sliding a hand under his uniform and rubbing his half hard penis. He choked back more tears, he knew that he was completely at her disposal. He didn't have any amount of strength. He tried to push himself into a sitting position to push her off but his arms didn't work and he ended up collapsing back onto the ground. She got off him for a second, he prayed she decided to let him go. That would have been too easy, she unbuttoned her pants pulling them down.

Dick hated that his body reacted to this. He tried to will himself not to get an erection but it wasn't working. His erection pushed against his underwear and half unzipped uniform. He knew what she was going to do and he closed his eyes, unable to fight against this. 

"Shh querido" he heard his whispering inches from his face. He tried to bite back the tears but he couldn't. He was so weak and tired. He hated this, it hurt so much, he just wanted it to be over. He felt her finish removing the bottom of his uniform and then his underwear. 

This couldn't be real, that was all he could think, this couldn't be real. But it was. She stroked his erection and he couldn't deny the sensations of pleasure that shot through his body. It made him feel sick and disgusting and dirty. How could he possibly be enjoying this? His body seemed to be acting on its own, his hips twitching into her trying to get more friction. His hormones flooded his body making him feel disgusting and horny all at once. His mouth let out small moans that sounded like pleasure and made him hate himself even more. 

He tried to close his legs again but she once again pushed them open and this time she lowered herself onto his penis with a loud moan. Dick bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, trying not to react. She was warm and soft, a sharp change from the cold hard rooftop and he couldn't stop her from what she was doing. 

She put her hands on his chest moving herself up and down on him. He turned his head and squeezed his eyes even tighter, refusing to look. He hated his body, reacting like he wanted this, like he enjoyed being raped on a rooftop unable to defend himself. Time was a haze, he didn't know how long he'd been there. He felt his body orgasm but it filled him with sickness rather than pleasure. Tarantula stopped only to touch and feel his body till he was hard again. Then she was back to riding him, moaning and saying his name. He wanted it to stop, he wanted everything to stop. He wished he was dead right beside blockbuster. 

Dick jerked awake, he was covered in a cold sweat. He looked around frantically. He was in his own bed, at the manor, safe. As he tried to readjust he came to a realization that made him sick to his stomach. He had a very painful erection and his boxers were covered in sticky semen. He once again felt betrayed by his bodies reaction to her, even in dream form his body acted like it wanted her. Like it wanted what had happened. 

Tentatively he reached down touching himself through the boxers. A shot of hormones and adrenaline rushed through his body. He closed his eyes trying to will the problem away but the ghost feeling of Tarantula on his, touching him only made it worse. Dick was laying on his back and suddenly he was feeling like he could move. He felt like he was right back on that rooftop too tired and weak to do anything. He could feel her hands all over him and tears began to fall off his cheeks against his will. The sensory memories playing over and over again on his body. 

Chapter Text

Dick felt disgusted with himself. He felt disgusted with his body. He felt disgusted with everything. The feeling of hormones changed and blossomed into a red hot fire in his stomach. Rage, disappointment, disgust. He tossed his blankets off getting out of his bed and walking to the bathroom. He stripped his boxers off as fast as he could, not turning on the bathroom light. He didn't want to see himself, he knew what he'd see. A disappointment, a disgusting disappointment. 

He flipped on the shower as hot as it would go and stepped in. It hurt like hell, burned his skin till it was angry red and make him immediately start sweating and feeling dizzy. He didn't care, he felt like he deserved the pain that he was feeling. He blindly grabbed a rag and started washing heavy-handedly. He scrubbed till he was bleeding but he still felt dirty, he felt like even with all his scrubbing he couldn't get the layer of filth off of his skin. He would scrub his skin till blood sat on it from his torn up skin, then put the ripped skin under the scalding water till it stopped running red. It was painful and he thought about how pathetic it was, resorting to injuring himself. even if it was in such a petty way. Just another reason he was a disappointment.

He had been in the shower for three hours scrubbing his skin raw and bloody when the water started to run cold. He used to love cold showers but ever since that night he couldn't stomach taking one. So he climbed out of the shower wrapping a towel around himself and walking back to his room. The light in his room wasn't on either, which was good for him because he didn't want to have to look at his body. He pulled out black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt pulling them over his skin. He knew it was too hot outside to be completely covered up, especially in all black. But he felt if he wore anything shorter his family would notice all the angry red splotches he's scrubbed onto his self. A quick look at the clock showed him it was just after seven, everyone would be heading down to breakfast. He knew he should head down as well but he felt like he would throw up anything he ate.

He went down anyway, if he didn't he knew someone would worry. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to appear annoyed rather than appearing like he was barely keeping it together. He walked down quietly, stumbling over nothing in the middle of the hall. He was glad nobody was there to see him. "Grayson" on the other hand, maybe somebody was.

He felt a small hand on his arm and resisted the urge to flinch away "are you going to patrol with me and Father tonight?" Damian asked. Either he was oblivious to Dicks discomfort or he didn't care. He knew it was probably the latter option, Damian was a raised assassin and a good Robin. Probably a better Robin than he had ever been. He defiantly noticed the way Dick tensed at his touch and didn't look in his eyes. He just didn't care. Dick was okay with that, he didn't care anymore either. He wasn't important enough for anyone to care about. A failure, disgusting, stupid, a filthy slut. He pursed his lips and silently begged his voice to come out strong. 

"I don't know" he answered honestly "I'll get back to you on that" 

The answer seemed to be enough for Damian who walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. Dick took a second to pull himself together again before heading back to the kitchen. He could still feel the sensory memories of her hands, her words still whispered in his ears. He felt like he was moments away from having a mental breakdown and he couldn't afford it. If he had a breakdown it would alert his family to the problem. They would learn what had happened that night, they would hate him for being so weak. 

In the kitchen sitting at the counter was Tim, Alfred was cooking. Tim was drinking coffee and typing away at something on his computer, from the glance Dick caught walking by it didn't look to be bat-related. Both of them were just enjoying a hero-less morning. Dick sat down  

"Good morning, Master Dick," Alfred said politely as ever "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Morning" Dick offered back weakly, he knew by Alfred's tone of voice that the older man was onto him. That man knew everything "Can I just get coffee." He wasn't even sure he could stomach that but he knew if he didn't accept anything people would be suspicious. He ate more than anyone else in the entire family so it didn't go unnoticed if he skipped meals. Lately, he had been skipping a lot of them, nobody had confronted him yet. He thought about it. Maybe it did go unnoticed, maybe they weren't paying any attention to him because they didn't care. They didn't care about him anymore he was Just a filthy disgusting disappointment. He sipped his coffee and let himself get lost in through, the more he tried not to think about Catalina the worse the thoughts rampaged and they rampaged into thoughts about the Mirage situation that had happened only six months prior. He let himself be raped twice in six months, maybe it was fates way of punishing him for being so useless. Maybe he deserved it. 

He was so lost in thought that when he felt a hand touch him he violently flinched away and swatted at it without even looking. It took him a second to notice what he had done and looked over to see a very hurt looking Tim standing beside him. He was holding his hand to his chest, how hard had Dick hit him. Everyone who was in the kitchen was now starring at him.

"So-Sorry" He whispered looking down. He felt guilt blossom in his chest with all the other emotions that had been sitting there. He had accidentally swatted people before when startled, they all had but he still felt awful. "Are you okay?"

"I think the better question is are you okay?" Tim piped up "You've been acting off since you got here, last week". Why were they pretending to care about him, was this a punishment for him smacking Tim. Everyone would suddenly pretend that they cared about him, get him to confess everything and then disown him for being such a disgusting failure. 

"Yeah, I'm fine" Dick lied. what else was he supposed to say?

He felt like he was falling apart?

He hadn't been eating or sleeping?

He couldn't wash the feeling of filth off him no matter how hard he scrubbed?

No, he would just continue to tell them he was fine until it was true. It would be true eventually, wouldn't it? It had to be. He wanted to believe that, that is had to be okay again. He wanted to believe that everything would be okay and he would get over this just like he had gotten over Mirage. Had he ever really gotten over what happened with mirage? He couldn't help but feel this burning hopelessness that it would never be okay again. 

"I believe Master Tim was asking if you wanted to go to the circus today, it is their last day in town," Alfred spoke turning back. Tim had seemed to have lost his nerve in talking to Dick. Great Dick had scared him, god he was so fucking stupid. 

The circus, Dick loved the circus. Dick had grown up in the circus. It was his other home. But he didn't want to go. He couldn't bring himself to feel any excitement about the idea of seeing all his old friend again. He didn't think he could handle all the noise and lights and people. "I can't, I have stuff to do" He spoken trying to keep his voice clear. He didn't actually have anything to do, he just didn't want to go anywhere.  He could feel eyes burning against him, in the last ten years he had never turned down an invitation to the circus. He wanted the burning gaze to go away in the same way he wanted to feeling of her hands to stop. Without another word he left his almost full coffee downstairs and walked back up to his bedroom. 

He locked the door. Something he almost never did. He had blocked the cameras a long time ago, Bruce always installed more, he always blocked them. They never actually spoke about it, just kept going around in circles. He felt like they had always just been going around in circles. He examined the room for more cameras and was glad to not see any, he didn't really want to climb up on stuff to cover the cameras. Being in his room made him feel the weight of his nightmares on his chest and for a second he couldn't remember how to breathe. He needed to get out of there. Where would he go? He had hideouts and equipment staches, but those would be the first place Bruce would check if he got suspicious. 

Dick knew there was really only one person who would take him in, no questions asked. He was also the only person who wouldn't rat him out to the Bat the second Batman started asking questions. He flipped out his phone "Jason" Dick stopped typing. Was he bothering his brother, did Jason care about him at all. He pushed those thoughts away as the feeling of the weight on his chest only grew "are you at your safe-house, I need to get out of here?" There was a few minutes of no response and Dick began to panic. 

He shouldn't have messaged Jason, he shouldn't have bothered. He was just being a nuisance, a pain in the ass, a worthless idiot. His phone chimed up interrupting his self-loathing thoughts 

"Yeah I'm here"

It was subtle but he knew it was his brother's way of inviting him over. If he had just responded 'yeah' or 'yup' it meant he was there but didn't want to be bothered. Typing out 'Yeah, I'm here' was him saying he was home and up for visitors. Dick was grateful for it. He slipped on his shoes and stuffed his phone and wallet into his pocket before climbing out the window. He stumbled getting down the tree, a feeling of disgust with himself bubbled up. He couldn't even leave without fucking stuff up.

Chapter Text

Jason P.O.V

 Many things about the situation should have tipped Jason off that something was very wrong. First of all, was when he spotted Dick from his window. The second should have been Dick hadn't knocked yet despite the fact he had been standing there several minutes and looked to be a little hesitant. Dick wasn't a shy person and had crashed his brother's place without thinking dozens of times so that fact that he hesitated should have been a big red flag.  However Jason didn't really think much of it, he did, however, note how foolish his older brother was to be wearing such long clothes in such hot weather.

After several minutes of watching him from the window, it didn't seem like Dick was going to knock, in fact, he had slowly started looking like he was going to run away. This should have been red flag number three. Once again Jason chose to ignore it and just walked over unlocking the door and opening it enough for Dick to come in. He was always paranoid when it came to letting people in, and the fact that Dick was acting strange only added to that paranoia. 

"I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but I've gotten calls from Alfred, a Bat, and two Robins all looking for you."  Jason teased. He really had gotten calls from the rest of the family, they had all asked if Jason had seen him but nobody explained why they suddenly seemed so worried. This led the boy to assume that Dick and Bruce had been fighting again. He knew Dick trusted him not to reveal his hideout so he just told them he hadn't seen the bird all morning, which at the time he said it was the truth. Jason clicked locked all the locks he had on the door, which was a paranoid amount even he would admit. He had just slowly started adding them whenever he had nightmares until he felt safe. For the first time since Dick had gotten there, Jason finally had a chance to turn around and look at him. Immediately he noticed all the various types of wrong that were Dicks appearance. The older man was hugging himself like he would fall apart, he looked on the edge of tears, he was too pale, and shaking softly.

Jason immediately knew that this was bad. Either the fight with Bruce had been really bad or there was something worse going on. 

"Dickie-Bird, It was just a joke calm down" Jason offered even though he knew it wasn't the joke that had dick shaking. He took a step toward the scared looking man and reached out a hand, sitting it on Dicks shoulder. Dick flinched away from Jason's hand roughly. As if the physical contact was somehow painful, this was an action that he would have expected from Damian but not Dick.  Jason noticed how he hugged himself tighter and a small desperate sound escaped his lips. He went from mildly confused to completely concerned. Dick was the most physical person he knew and now he looked like he would fall apart at a single touch. "Dick, please, look at me" He took a step back so Dick didn't feel crowded but he also was still close enough to be there if anything went wrong. And by if anything went wrong he really was talking about the fact that Dick looked moments from fainting. 

Dick didn't look at him and this made Jason even more concerned. He wondered briefly if he should call back and tell them that Dick had shown up and something was seriously wrong. 

"I- I need to tell you something" Dick whispered, his voice broke halfway through "But you can't hate me"

What could be so awful that Dick felt he needed to make Jason promise to not hate him. "I won't" Jason assured. 

Dick P.O.V

"I - I need to tell you something" Dick whispered. Every part of his brain was telling him this was a terrible idea. Jason would be so disgusted with him that he would sell him out to the rest of the family and they would all disown him. "But you can't hate me" he couldn't bring himself to look Jason in the eye. Even if Jason did hate him after this it wouldn't matter. Dick couldn't go another minute without telling anyone or he would end up killing himself. Even thinking that now sounded dramatic but for the past week, he had been wondering if he could taper his line so it broke by 'accident' while he was swinging from a building. Or if he had enough of poison ivy's toxin to overdoes on, making it look like ivy did it would be easy. Or wondering if he should do it in a more normal, civilian way that way he could leave a note explaining his shame and apologizing for everything. At some point, he had ruled that last option out. if he was going to do it he would make it seem like he died a hero and not a broken disgusting disappointment. 

 "I won't" He eventually heard Jason say, how long had be been standing there looking for an answer. He felt the tightness in his chest come back and it hurt to breath. The logical part of his brain knew that Jason would understand, after all, Jason had been in a similar position when he was young, but the irrational fearful part of his brain was scared of being rejected. 

Apparently, he had been standing there in silence for too long, cause Jason spoke up again. "Dick, I promise nothing you can say will make me hate you." he paused for a second "and I won't tell the bat, just tell me what happened." Dick wanted to cry or scream or punch something but he felt too cold and too weak. If he hadn't been so weak this wouldn't have been a problem. If he hadn't been such a failure this wouldn't have been a problem. This was his fault and he should have to deal with it by himself, he shouldn't have come here and bothered Jason. A hand touched his chest and he slapped it away stumbling back a few steps before his back was against a wall. He looked at Jason who was looking back at him with wide concerned eyes. Great now he had slapped two of his brothers in a matter of hours. He needed to say something before it ate him alive. 

 It had been eating him alive for the past two months. That's why he had gone to the Manor, in hopes of getting away from it but it didn't work. Before it had just been Mirage that had been eating his consciousness but now with the combined weight of both of them, Mirage and Catalina, he couldn't handle it any more. 

"She ... She ... She raped me" the voice that spoke didn't sound like his own. It was weak and quiet, sounding a lot like a confession or a call for penance. He knew if he stopped now he wouldn't be able to summon the words again. He tried to ignore that Jason's whole body had tensed and the concern in his features turned to rage.  

"Tarantula, after she killed Blockbuster I went into shock and she raped me on the rooftop. I must have been asking for it or leading her on because A shapeshifter named mirage pretended to be Kory and raped me only six months before that. I keep dreaming about it, my body keeps reacting like I wanted it to happen but I didn't I didn't want it to happen and now I can't wash the feeling of filth off of my skin no matter how hard I scrub. I I I I"

He spilt everything as fast as he could but instead of feeling better, he felt like he couldn't breathe. The weight that had been on his chest multiplied and he couldn't get air in. His throat seized and felt like it was swelling closed, he couldn't breathe. He knew he was crying and he tried to look for a reaction on his brother but all he saw was rage. He was mad at him, Dick just knew it. Jason was mad at him, he shouldn't have told anyone. He scratched at his throat desperately, his lungs burned. His vision was getting splotchy and he didn't know what to do. He knew he was having a panic attack, he had them in the past but hey had never felt like this before. He started to hear a loud pitched beeping in his ears, the kind he heard when he was going to pass out. His vision was starting to go black.

Somewhere in the commotion of his mind, he heard Jason's voice "Dick you have to breath" it didn't sound mad, maybe scared? His vision had gone black but he was still conscious, he still couldn't breathe and it was terrifying. Dicks legs buckled under him and he slid to the floor still sitting against the wall. He felt Jason push Dicks knees up and then he felt a gentle feeling of a hand on the back of his head pushing it down. Jason had moved him so his head was between his knees, he felt his lungs opening up a bit. He greedily gasped in breaths. His vision slowly started to return but he kept it static on the ground. He focused trying to get breathes into his lungs. Phantom hands burned on his skin and he felt so filthy. he felt so so so filthy. Like he was covered in a thin layer of grime that embedded itself into his skin. Like he was dirty all the way down to his soul. 

"I'm sorry" It was all he could manage. His brain wasn't working well enough to offer up anything else. He didn't move and continued to focus on his shaky breathing. Jason doesn't respond for a second and when he does his voice sounds calculated, like he was trying to not scare Dick off. 

"Dick you have nothing to be sorry for, you didn't do anything wrong" there was a wavering to his voice that made Dick fearful he had dragged up old memories. He felt terrible for everything, he shouldn't have come here, he shouldn't have bothered Jason. He was so disgusting, a disgusting failure. He could feel his hands start shaking and the weight on his chest started to come back. The wall felt like the rooftop, he was sweating so much from the panic and the long clothes. He felt a sickness growing in his stomach as shame washed over him. 

"I" he started to say something that died on his lips. He knew he should say it, he should tell his brother. He was afraid of what he might do if he didn't tell someone about his plans. "She" he didn't know how to bring the painful thoughts to words. He forced himself to look up off the ground and meet the worried green eyes that were staring at him. "She should have just killed me" he finally managed to whisper. It wasn't exactly what he had intended to come out but it worked, it got the point across. He didn't hear it but he could see Jason take a sharp breath in and bite his lower lip. 

Shit! He was chewing on his bottom lip which meant he was stressed. For the millionth time that afternoon, Dick felt like he shouldn't have gone there, shouldn't have bothered anyone. He should have just done it and made it look like an accident. It wouldn't have been hard, accidents happen all the time, he should have just...

"Dick" Jasons voice was low and soft, the kind he usually used when helping someone down from a nightmare high or a scarecrow gassing. "I know you're scared, and I know it hurts but I need you to be honest with me" he paused swallowing hard "Dick, are you suicidal?" The question hung in the air heavy as fog and suffocating. Suicidal, he hated that word, it was laced with weakness and pity. Dick tried to curl into himself more wishing he would dissipate into the wall. 

"Please, you can't tell anyone" It was the only thing he could force his lips to say. 

Chapter Text

Jason P.O.V

"She ... She ... She raped me" The words tumbled out of Dick's lips and Jason froze solid. That was about the farthest thing from what he had expected. The fear and concern that had been building in him went straight to ice in his veins then pure unadulterated rage. Dick stood there like he thought Jason would attack him for the confession. His lips quivered for a second and Jason wanted to say something comforting but Dick continued with his story. 

"Tarantula, after she killed Blockbuster I went into shock and she raped me on the rooftop. I must have been asking for it or leading her on because A shape shiftier named mirage pretended to be Kory and raped me only six months before that. I keep dreaming about it, my body keeps reacting like I wanted it to happen but I didn't I didn't want it to happen and now I can't wash the feeling of filth off of my skin no matter how hard I scrub. I I I I"

Dicks voice began to stumble and choke on its self and to the anxiety of Jason, he noticed that Dick wasn't breathing. He wasn't hyperventilating but it was more like he had started to hold his breath. He was scratching at his throat with small pathetic sounds coming from his lips that made Jason's finger itch for the trigger of a gun. He was going to kill the bitch, no kill both the bitches that had hurt his brother. Tears had begun to fall down the older man's face and Jason walked up to him quickly grabbing his hand away from his neck. He had began to scratch sores onto himself. 

"Dick, Dick you have to breath" He tried to remind him, all the normally tan skin on Dicks face had gone stark white and his eyes were beginning to gloss over. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! He was going to faint, Jason was almost sure of it. Just as the thoughts crossed Jasnos mind he saw Dicks legs begin to buckle and give out under him. SHIT!

He rushed closer and wrapped an arm around him so he didn't hit the ground too hard, an injury is not what he needed right now. Dick was a lot lighter than he had been last time the two of them hung out(aka: patroled together) three months ago, he must not have been eating properly if at all since it happened. Jason couldn't tell if he was still awake. He wasn't responsive but his eyes were still opened, he had started breathing again but just barely. Jason tried to remember what to do in their situations. He tried to remember his Robin training where he had been taught how to handle stuff like panic attacks. But it was hard considering he had always secretly looked up to DIck and seeing him like this was torture. 

He pushed Dicks knees up and softly put his hand on the back of Dicks head lowering it so his head was between his knees. In that position Jason heard a rough gasp, relief flooded his body seeing dick starting to breathe almost normally. He still wasn't sure if the man was awake, he still hadn't spoken or moved. Jason tried to touch him as little as possible, afraid of scaring him or triggering something. His mind was reeling with the sudden information that he had been given. His brother, his strong fearless older brother, had been raped twice in six months. He had been falling apart ever since the second time, two months ago. He had been living at the Manor for two god damn weeks. How the fuck had nobody in a family of detectives noticed Dick slipping into a depression, falling apart on himself. 

Jason remembered when it had happened to him, nobody had been there for him. Nobody had helped him and he fell into such a depression that he was contemplating suicide before the Bat found him. That thought made him feel sick, was Dick? Had he been? No, Jason didn't even want to think about that. Dick couldn't be, he was so god damn happy. Too god damn happy, it pissed Jason off to no end how happy he was. 

"I'm Sorry" Dick whispered after what felt like hours of sitting there on the floor. He hadn't looked up but least he was talking, it was a step in the right direction. Jason wondered what exactly he was apologizing for. The panic attack? The confession? For being raped? Rage welled again in Jason's chest sitting right over his heart, he was going to kill someone for this. He would find them and make sure they suffered for their crimes. 

"Dick you have nothing to be sorry for, you didn't do anything wrong" he tried to comfort him but his voice wavered. He wasn't sure what to do or say in this situation. He tried to remember what he would have wanted to hear back when it happened to him. Dick still hadn't moved but he had begun to sweat profusely, Jason though he was probably overheating. He hadn't expected Dick to say anything else but after several more minutes of silence, Dick spoke again. 

"I" he paused

"She" Jason could see he was having trouble finding the words and waiting with more patience than he had ever given anything else in his life. Finally, Dick dragged his eyes from the ground and up to Jason. He was still crying but he had some of his colour back. 

"She should have just killed me" Those words felt more like ice than the original confession. His rage now turned to fear and borderline panic as he fell back on his previous thoughts. He wanted to put a hand on Dicks shoulder but decided against it. 

"Dick" Jason's voice was low and soft. "I know you're scared, and I known it hurts but I need you to be honest with me" he paused swallowing hard "Dick, are you suicidal?" Jason prayed that Dick would say no. He wasn't sure he could take care of Dick suicidal. He wasn't sure he could do it without letting the batfam know. The batfam would keep hi locked in the manor, put a shadow on him, take him off his young justice team, force him into therapy, force him to tell them what happened. That wouldn't do him any good, those kinds of restrictions would only make everything worse. If Dick was suicidal there was no way they would let the Bat-family know about it.

Chapter Text

Dick's P.O.V 

Dick slowly blinked into consciousness He wasn't in his bed, wherever he was sleeping was much colder and much lumpier. He pushed himself up sit up and looked around his surroundings, he was in a dark apartment. Jasons dark apartment, he vaguely remembered going over there after something happened at the Mansion. 

What had happened at the mansion?

He had hit someone. Tim. He had hit Tim and then ran away. He had come to Jason's apartment. He had an emotional breakdown and confessed everything to Jason. Everything from the rapes to the suicidal thoughts. 

The memories came back all at once and Dick suddenly felt sick. He stood up quickly, too quickly and his head started to spin and suddenly he was on his ass again. Why was he so dizzy? How long had he been asleep? 

"Dick?" Someone said his name from behind, Jason who had probably heard the commotion and came to investigate. Dick opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Right he had gone mute after having a panic attack. His stomach seemed to take his opened lips as an invitation to twist and spasm inside him, making him throw his hands back over his mouth. He swallowed the thick saliva that pooled under his tongue and pushed the nausea down. He stood up again pushing Jason out of the way and running to the bathroom. He stumbled slightly, his knees hitting the tile floor too hard before he was leaned over the toilet retching. At first, nothing came up but sputtering cough and loud heaves but soon a thin line of stomach acid followed by the undigested part of his dinner spilt from his lips and into the toilet. 

A large hand rubbed his back and Dick closed his eyes letting his body relax. Had it been the memories of the previous day that had made him sick? Or had he just been getting himself into a mess for so long that when he finally let it all go he had worked himself sick? Either way, the nausea faded and he rested his head against the cold toilet seat. The air was so cold but he felt so warm. "You done?" It was Jason's voice again. It had its usual snip to it but Dick could still hear the concern laced behind the attitude. 

For the first time in his life, he welcomed the attitude and the snippy tone. It meant that despite what Dick had told him, he was still treating Dick the same as ever and not like a broken doll. Jason then got up and he was gone and Dick wondered through a headache where he went. He came back a minute later with a new short-sleeved shirt and shorts. 

"You need to change into something more weather appropriate. You've got me freezing my ass off with that thick ass long-sleeved shirt and now it's covered in vomit." Dick looked down at the shirt, it was in fact covered in vomit. He looked at Jason and then the short sleeve shirt. If dick took his shirt off Jason would see the injuries he had caused himself yesterday from all the scrubbing. He knew he couldn't avoid it, he pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the tub. Jason handed him a damp rag and he whipped his face off, spitting into the toilet before flushing it.  

His fingers touched the edge of his shirt and he hesitated. His hands were shaking, he didn't want Jason to see the sores on his body. He didn't want Jason to see how low he had stooped, how pathetic he was. Jason must have read the situation was Dick being scared to change in front of someone because he assured Dick "it's just me, I won't hurt you."

Dick knew that and he knew he couldn't put this off so he yanked it off and looked away. Shame washed over him and settled in his stomach. His eyes closed and could hear Jason gasp, the sound made him want to throw up again. He knew that he had large red patches in various stages of healing from the past two months. He could hear Jason walk closer and then he grabbed something from the cabinet. Dick looked back over at him frowning. Jason had now crouched down in front of him with a bottle of antibiotic lotion in his hands. His eyes were wide and wet, his hands hovering over the open sores on Dicks body. 

"You couldn't wash the feeling off your skin no matter how hard you scrubbed" Jason whispered what dick had said the other evening. "You just kept washing trying to get the feeling off, washing till there was no skin left and it hurt, washing till there was blood and continuing to scrub even after that, and you just couldn't get clean" Jason sounded like he was going to cry and it dug a knife of guilt into Dicks stomach. He was so god damn selfish to come here, to drag his brother into his downward spiral, to upset him as he had. He wished he had just gone through with his plans and never came here, never brought this up. If he had died from a broken line or ivy toxin they would have mourned but they wouldn't have had to see how broken he was. Jason wouldn't have to be pushing through old memories just to help his OLDER brother. 

"Ar-are they on your legs too?" Jason stuttered. Dick hadn't heard him stutter since he was a young Robin. Dick couldn't help himself and look away again nodding slightly He wished he could speak. He would apologize. He would ask for a hug and tell his brother that it would be okay because he would be okay." Right now he didn't even know if any of those things would be true. 

"You need to put this on them I can leave if it makes you more comfortable, but you need to put this on everywhere you scrubbed off" Jason whispered. Dick didn't want him to leave but nodded and Jason left the room. Dick pulled the rest of his clothes off and began to apply the lotion to all the area. It burned like a bitch but he didn't care, he deserved the pain. When he was done he pulled the shirt and the short on. He was going to open the door when he heard Jason crying almost silently. He felt the knife in his stomach dig farther. He needed to get over this rut and he needed to do it now.

Jason P.O.V

Jason had assumed it was nerves of being exposed in front of another person that had Dick hesitating to take off the hot vomit covered shirt. He was so wrong. The minute he took the shirt off Jason was glad that Dick looked away because he had to fight back tears that pricked his eyes but he couldn't fight off the audible gasp. And he was almost certain that he had gone ghost white. Dicks entire torso was covered in large patches of skin that had been all but rubbed off, big areas of angry red rag burn, and bruises that were all in different stages of healing. Without thinking he grabbed the antibiotic lotion from his cabinet and crouched down in front of Dick. Some of these were brand new and Jason couldn't help but wonder if Dick had gotten them the same day he came over. 

"You couldn't wash the feeling off your skin no matter how hard you scrubbed" He whispered breathlessly the words that Dick had said the previous day. Dick was now looking at him. He looked ashamed and afraid. "You just kept washing trying to get the feeling off, washing till there was no skin left and it hurt, washing till there was blood and continuing to scrub even after that, and you just couldn't get clean" Now Jason was talking from his experience. He had to squeeze his eyes closed tightly 

"Ar-are they on your legs to" He whispered trying to stop his voice from cracking. Dick just nodded and Jason swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat. 

"You need to put this on them" He whispered sitting the bottle on the toilet seat, he didn't want them to become infected, that would be another problem they didn't need "I can leave if it makes you more comfortable, but you need to put this on everywhere you scrubbed off" Dick just nodded not looking Jason in the eyes. With that Jason left closing the door but not locking it. He took a few steps from the bathroom and he couldn't stop the sadness that was welling in his chest from exploding out, he covered his face crying silently. He was sure his shoulders were shaking and he tried to stay silent. 

He was heartbroken that Dick was in such a bad place. He was angry at what those women had done to his brother. He hated the way the words swam in his head and his lips dragging up old memories. And he was terrified because he didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to help.  He quickly wiped his tears away, this wasn't the time to cry and knocked on the bathroom door. "You done in there?" Jason asked and the door opened to reveal Dick cleaned up. He was happy. "It's like one in the morning, you should go back to bed" he spoke clearly as if he hadn't been crying. "I need to take care of some shit in Crime alley, will you be okay here alone" Dick nodded and Jason showed him to the guest bedroom. 

Jason didn't really want to leave Dick but he had locked up all the guns and knives somewhere safe and he had to get information about how to find two certain rapists. 

Chapter Text

Jason's P.O.V

Jason hadn't really got what he had wanted. Nobody seemed to have any information about who these two women were or how to find them. He knew that somebody had to know so with a few well-placed punches and threats he had sent the word out among the street crowd that he was looking for blood, specifically blood from those two women.

Even without getting the information he wanted beating people up had been cathartic but not in the way it usually was. Normally beating the shit out of street thugs bled all the tension and anger out of his muscles but today it only succeeding in lessening the rage and sickness that had boiled up in his chest. He had landed four drug dealers and two traffickers in the hospital and it had only just managed to take the edge off of his emotional stress.

He dropped into his safe-house around three to make sure Dick was still asleep. Which he was, still safe and peacefully curled up under his blanket. Then he left again, he wanted to beat up more people but his fists were bruising and he wasn't willing to put himself out of commission for something that wasn't working so instead he dropped by another safe house to stress clean it for a while. Then he stopped by a 24/hour mart (where he was a fairly common face and they didn't even question him) and bought groceries since he was seriously lacking. 

It was rounding six when he finally managed to put up all his groceries and fell asleep.  

Dick's P.O.V

Dick woke up around eight o'clock. He pushed himself up yawning, for the first time in two months he had woke up nightmare free and not feeling like the world was about to crash down on him. It was a pleasant feeling that he had never appreciated before everything happened. He got out of bed as quietly as he could, which was damn near silent. He padded down to Jasons room opening the door and peeking in. Jason was sleeping, his mask disregarded on a chair with his bad. The gun that had been under his pillow was pushed to the side sitting under his palm but not being held onto. 

To disregard his bag so carelessly means he must have been exhausted when he finally came in. Dick had heard him creep back in around three, presumably to check on dick. Which made him upset that Jason felt he needed to interrupt his patrol to do a wellness check. But after the check, Jason had left again and wasn't sure when he had come back in for a final time. He dicided that he would let the younger boy sleep for a while. 

He wasn't really sure what to do with himself. He felt like he had more energy than he had in a long while. He could watch TV but turning it on would without question wake Jason up. Other than that the only thing Jason kept in his apartment were books, a lot of books. He was fragile and cheap with a lot of stuff but he spent good money to make sure he always had a book to read. Dick grabbed the book sitting on the table 'Stone Butch Blues' and looked over it. Jason was reading a book about lesbians, it was an amausing enough thought that Dick took the book and walked back to his room. He sat on the floor at the foot of his bed and began reading. 

DEAR THERESA, I’m lying on my bed tonight missing you, my eyes all swollen, hot tears running down my face. There’s a fierce summer lightning storm raging outside. Tonight I walked down streets looking for you in every woman ’s face, as I have each night of this lonely exile. I’m afraid I ’ll never see your laughing, teasing eyes again.

...

It was about three hours later and a quarter of the way through the book when Dick heard Jason opening his door. He was still sitting on a spot on the floor (though not the same one) and had been completely absorbed into the story. So much so, that if it hadn't been for Jason clearing his throat Dick might not have noticed him. Dick jumped and looked up at his brother who was standing in the door way. He was shirtless and wearing pajama pants that had roughly been cut to shorts at the knees. His hair was still tossled and messy from sleep, he looked like there was a high probability he rolled out of bed and immediarly came to Dicks temporary room. 

The last thought kinda darkened and sat heavy just above his stomach. Jason had woken up and immediately felt like he should check on Dick, that Dick couldn't be trusted without being watched. 

Jason cocked an eyebrow and gave a half grin "I take it you've been up a while?" his voice was thick with mocking. 

Dick nodded

"Enjoying my book?" 

Dick nodded again, it was a really interesting book that he kinda wished he had heard of before. 

"Still not talking?" Jason asked, his voice was stoill mocking but this time Dick could hear an undertone of something else. 

DIck parted his lips to try and say sosmething but nothing but a small pitchy noise escaped. He shook his head frustrated. He fucking hated when this happened, he hates when he had mute episodes. Communication was a bitch and he felt useless. He looked up at Jason expectantly of his reaction but Jason jsut ran a hand through his still tussled hair.

"Ya Hungry?" 

Dick nodded again. He had woken up hungry which was also something he hadn't felt in forever. He was hoping that simply telling Jason was enough to start and ease the pain. Though, he knew that couldn't be true completely because he still wasn't talking despite wanting to. 

"Well i'm glad you waiting for me to get up Dickhead, you might have burned the whole kitchen down" Jason had an edge to his voice, he sounded like an asshole and meant it as a joke. Dick laughed at it, but it stung. A voice in his head hissed at him

Of course you would burn it down, failure, disappointment, disgusting. Dick closed his eyes and tried to force the voice back into this mind where it had come from. But it had already done its damage and he felt like there was a knife in his stomach. He heard Jason order him to shower, there was clothes in the drawer. Dick sat the book down adding a second bookmark (the first one was Jason's and almost at the end). He grabbed a shirt and some jeans and walked into the bathroom. 

Everything was going fine, till it wasn't. 

He turned on the water and held his hand over the light switch. He didn't want to see his body, he didn't want to see his damage but if he turned the light off Jason would worry. Dick felt the conflict in his brain arguing with one another. After almost tow minutes of arguing with himself he left the light on and yanked his clothes off, careful not to look in the mirror. The water was too hot but not as how as if he had been at the manor. He knew Jason took cold showers but he would still feel bad if he used up all the heat. 

He began to scrub, and scrub, and scrub. He was bleeding and it hurt, he wanted to stop but couldn't. The feeling, the filth it was still on him

Why wouldn't it wash off

Why wouldn't it wash off!!!

WHY WOULDN'T IT WASH OFF!!!!!!!!!

His breathing began to pick up and the heat plus the panic was making him feel dizzy. Why wouldn't the disgusting feeling come off his skin. He continued to scrub. It was bleeding harder, it hurt so much, it still felt dirty. 

It still felt dirty

He still felt dirty

He was still dirty 

She had left him disgusting and Dirty. 

Disgusting, Dirty, and useless. 

Blood ran down the drain, it looked like the blood on his uniform. Splatter from the gun shot wound, right before. 

Her hand was on Dicks chest pushing him onto the rooftop, his name whispered on her lips. Her lips were red, the blood was red, the back of his eyelids were red. Dick scratched at his chest with his blunt nails trying to scratch the feeling off of him, trying to get her hand off of him. He was so consumed in the sensory memory, so consumed in his panic that he didn't hear the door open, he didn't hear Jason come in. 

Chapter Text

Jason P.O.V

"Dick, if your okay knock on the wall or something" Jason spoke through the door. It had been thirty mintues since he had gone to start cooking and had sent Dick to shower. After the first ten he started to get a clawing, nagging, bad feeling in his gut. He tried to ignroe it, he was concerned and just being paranoid. Afterall He had removed all the wepond from the house DIck coudln't o anything. 

The bad ffeling didn't subside and Jason eventuualy got annoyed and gave in. Which was where he was standing infront of the bathroom. Knocking on the ddor, trying to eleicit a response. 

"Dick, I really don't want to see your naked ass if I don't want to but if you dont make some kind of noise to tell me your okay im coming in."

He leaned his ear against the door trying to hear but all he could hear was breathing. Loud breathing infact, lous and rapid. The bad feeling jumped into his throat and he opened the door quickly. Dick was in the shower but his back was against the ice tiles, he was breathing fast and deep, looking off into another reality. He was also bleeding, from what seemed to be reopened wounds from srubbing so hard. But the most concerning thing was the fact he was scratching against his chest. "DICK!" Jason all but shouted. He was across the room in two second and ripped his nails from his chest. He had four deep blunt scratches over his chest that were bleeding preety well. 

Jason shut off the water and pulled the older man from the shower wrapping a red towel around him (He kept red towels incase he ever had to clean up blood from a mission, he hated staining the other coloured townels) nd sitting him down on the toilet seat lid. Dick's eyes were looking at Jason but were also looking somewhere far away. 

Jason grabbed a red hand towel and began to dry off the wounds. He had been in a shock the first time he had seen them and had hardly looked at them. Now he wished he had looked closer. Some were rather deep and some looked like they were already beginning to get infected. He blinked back tears and anger. 

HE HAD BEEN AT HE MANOR FOR TWO WEEKS. He had obviously been doing this even since she happened. And he obviously hadn't been taking care of them. THEY WERE A FUCKING FAMILY OF BATS AND DETECTIVES AND NOBODY SAW ANYTHING. 

Dick looked like he was back in reality. "I'll be right back" Jason muttered, he was flustered and furious. He was mad at tarantula for what she did , he was mad at the bats for not paying attention, he was mad at Dick for waitibg so long before coming foward, and he was mad at himself for being mad at dick. "just... Just stay put" he stuttered and hesitated leaving the bathrpom. 

Jason hurried out of the bathroom and to his bedroom and grabbed the first aid kit. When he got back he rbeathed a silent sign of relief to see Dick still sitting quietly in the toilet seat. He had finished drying himself off and pulled on shorts. Jason crouched down infront of dick and started puttung anri-bacterial gauze over the open wounds. He ndeended to get anti-biotics from Alfred. 

"Okay we have to fucking talk" Jason growled quietly. He could handle this at this rate. 

Ducks hand rose to his throat as if reminding Jason he was mute. "I fucking know okay" Jason snapped "I fucking know, I still remember enough of that sign language crap Bruce taught us do you?" Jason prayed he said yes, to hid relief Dock nodded. 

"Good finish getting fucking clothes on and meet me in the living room. You have five minutes, don't make me fucking hunt you down again." 

Chapter Text

Dick's P.O.V

Dick sat on the couch, Jason was on the chair. They had eaten in tense silence, the food was a little burned but Jason's posture was just asking to punch someone. It made Dick nervous so he swallowed the food down untasting. he din't want to have this conversation, he didn't have a choice.

"Okay" Jason finally said cutting the silence. "I want to help you but we need to set up some god damn ground rules" He breathed out a shaky sigh and Dick forced himself to maintain eye contact despite the ungodly urge to took away. "Because I can't help you like this, and you can't keep on this way."

Dick nodded, he felt like he had a knot in his throat and he wrapped him arms around himself. Pulling his legs up and looking at his little brother, who was chewing on his bottom lip obviously in thought. 

"I want to put a shadow on you about as much as you want one" Jason broke through the silence again. Dick wanted to flinch away from the idea of a shadow but sat still looking at his brother and waiting for whatever came next. "But, this" Jason gestured to the bandages "Can't keep fucking happening, you know they are infected Dick" Jason voice was wavering underneath the knifes edge "They were infected and you weren't asking care of them, and that bats didn't notice, and I almost didn't notice. Im going to have to haggle some fucking antibiotic out of Alfred" 

Dick swallowed past he know, he hadn't known they were infected. He couldn't even look at his body long enough to examine his wounds. He also knew that if Jason asked Alfred for antibiotics he would have one hell of a time getting them while avoiding a medical exam on whatever injury they were needed for. Especially because Jason was getting them for Dick who was supposed to be out of town. He brought up his hands trying to remember the sign language that Batman had taught him. It was a mandatory part of Robin training but it was also one of the first parts and almost never used.

"FEEL D . I . R . T . Y"

He spelled the word dirty out one letter at a time, not knowing when the sign for it was. Jason's jaw set like he was trying not to scream and dick wished he could dissapere. Stupid! Stupid! STUPID! He felt like an ass, he was a stupid asshole, he didn't belong here, he shouldn't have fucking come here, this was all a mistake. he was a failure, a disappointment. He coudnt' do anything right. 

"I know" Jasons voice was softer than Dick had expected it to be. Jason was being soft because he viewed Dick as fragile, the thought crossed Dicks mind. Jason viewed him as fragile and breakable, something to be soft and careful with. "Trust me, I fucking know okay? but that, that shit your doing right there is only going to make it worse"

Dick wondered how it could feel any worse, how it could hurt any more, how he could feel any dirtier. Jason wasn't done talking

"Because everytime you scrub yourself raw like that and the feeling doesn't go away its just going to make you feel worse, make you feel like you'll never be clean again."

Dick would never be clean again, he would never be clean as long as her hands touched his skin, as long as the filthy grimy feeling lingered on him. 

"MAKE GO AWAY, HOW?"

Dick spelled out and Jason was glairing bullets but speaking gentle.

"It goes away on its own eventually"

Dick didn't believe him, it would never go away. He would always be dirty, her hands would always be on him. Jason sighed and Dick looked to the floor, he didn't want to look Jason in the eyes.

"Okay so this is how it's going to be" Jason started again, his voice back to being ordering. "You can stay here as long as you want, I will hide you from the bats as long as you want me to, I wont tell anyone your secret unless you want me to. However, If this continues. If the self harm continues." Dick flinched away from the word self harm. He hadn't even considered the fact that scrubbing like that would have been considered self harming. God he was fucking pathetic. "I'm not going to protect that, I will turn you over to the bat." 

Dick nodded, that was a fair stipulation. Dick wouldn't have even been so generous, the minutes he had found out a brother was self-harming or suicidal he would have told.

"You are taking the week off, after that you can go back to your team, back to patrol, the manor or your apartment if you want or you can stay here. I'm not going to force you to speak until your brain feels like getting back on track. You can talk about it if you want or you can not, you're a grown fucking man. Im not going to try to talk you into drugs or therapy. " Jason paused, and Dick wondered if he expected him to say something.

"N . I . G . H . T . M . A . R . E . S" Dick spelt out "EVERY N . I . G . H . T" 

Jason sighed "I can give you Sleeping medicine, or weed, or you can suffer through them and come into my room if you want comfort. They are just one of those things that will pass on their own." Jason paused again, probably waiting for a response but Dick didn't know what to say. He was okay with everything so far.

"Also, I know there is that voice" Jason's voice went quiet "The one in your head telling you your disgusting, useless, that it was your fault. You have to fight that voice, its wrong"

Something snapped in Dicks mind, Jason was wrong, Dick was useless, he was disgusting, it was his fault "YOU WRONG" Dick signed "YOU WRONG"

"No i'm not dick"

"YES YOU ARE, YOUR WRONG" Dick stood up, anger boiling in his chest. "IT WAS MY FAULT, I DIDN'T STOP HER" 

"You couldn't stop her it wasn't your fault" Jason insisted still sitting. His calmness pissed Dick off even more 

"YOU DON'T KNOW, HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU KNOW..." Dick paused to moment he had signed those words he realized how wrong it was. The anger turned to guilt and Jason looked like someone had slapped him across the face. His fists were closed so tightly his arms were shaking and his hands were white. 

"I know Dick" Jason whispered, trembling softly, so soft that Dick might not have even noticed. "I just fucking know, okay" Jason took a breath in and Dick heard even his breaths shaking "please, don't make me say it" 

Chapter Text

It had been four days since their conversation. Four mostly quiet uneventful days.

Dick still was mute and still had to actively stop himself from scrubbing his skin raw. He had been having nightmares but hey weren't as bad as they had been when he was back home. He hadn't taken Jasons offer up on sleeping drugs. His appetite had started to come back and after some convensing, Jason would spar with Dick after patrol. 

Jason had managed to haggle some anti-biotics from Alfred. (And Alfred seemed to know that Jason was smuggling Dick because he gave them up rather easy). He had been turning blank stones on the street for days when he finally found one individual who was willing to spill in exchange for Jason not breaking ALL his ribs. Jason was relieved by Dicks seemingly positive recovery so far but was still looking for blood.

But as it is in recovery, there are spells of good followed by waves of seemingly endless bad. 

Dick's P.O.V

"You're a cheater" Kory screamed at him "A disgusting cheater, get out of my face" 

the room went black

T arantula pushed Dick back against the roof  "Shhh. everything is okay".

Blackness filled everything again.

Bruce stood in front of him "It's your fault, you let her kill him, you deserved everything you got and worse"

Blackness

Jason stood in front of him, gun pointed at his forehead. "I tried to help you but you're too disgusting and broken to help"

Stupid

Useless

Disgusting

Filthy

Slut

Whore

Broken

Killer

should have died

Better off dead

Dick felt like he was drowning in the words that swirled around him. They spoke so loud he couldn't hear anything else, they were closing in on him, getting louder, he didn't know how to make them stop. Something was pinning his arms and legs down, tarantula was on top of him again or was it Mirage he couldn't tell it seemed to be shifting between the two. The words filled his ears. Her hands touched him. He couldn't breathe.  HE screamed wanting, someone, to save him but the voices drowned him out as Tarantula raped him again. But this time be couldn't close his eyes or turn his head away. Something was stopping him and he was forced to look at her.

Jason's P.O.V

 If Jason hadn't already been awake reading his way through an insomnia episode Dicks scream would have definitely woken him

It was a loud broken terrified scream that made Jason jump out of bed startled. He'd already forgotten about his book grabbing his gun and racing to Dicks room. He threw open the door and was relieved to see that Dick was the only one in the room, that relief was short-lived as he noticed the position Dick was in. He was laying on his back his arms and legs flailing around at some unseen enemy, his back arched and another terrible scream left his lips. 

Jason was shocked still for a moment, he had seen Dick have nightmares before but never anything like this.

Jason abandoned his gun on the nightstand and ran over to his older brother. Dicks flailing arm made contact with the nightstand with a loud crack, If it wasn't broken it was 100% bruised. Jason bit back his fear and knew he needed to restrain Dick before he caused himself any more harm. It took several minutes to wrestle dicks arms down to the bed, the older man getting several lucky hits on Jason in that time. He screamed again kicking and thrashing against Jasons hold.

"Dick wake up!" Jason tried fruitlessly, he knew it was no hope. Dick was having a night terror waking him up would be almost impossible and possibly traumatizing, he needed to let it just play out on its own. but dick was bigger than him and keeping him pinned down was a difficult task, especially considering how flexible dick was even in sleep. Dick squirmed and writhed, he was crying panting and covered in sweat. 

"No" DIck panted out, still asleep "No, please stop" He voice was strained and broken. His thrashing calmed and he was just tossing his head side to side grunting and whining. He looked like he was in so much pain. Jason felt a sickness forming in his stomach, he could hear every second tick on the clock and he wished dick would just wake up already. DIcks back arched off the bed again and another scream tore from his throat followed by aa broken sob. Jason hoped this meant he was coming out of it.

His whole body was shaking from adrenaline and DIcks screamed ringed in his ears. Seeing someone he looked up to, look so broken was terrifying and he could only imagine how much the nightmare hurt Dick.

Dick jerked awake with a gasp, he ripped his hands out of Jason's grip. Causing the younger man to lose balance and fall on the bed. Dick scrambled off of the bed and to the other side of the room. He was panting and looking wily eyed at Jason.

"Dick it's just me" Jason assured getting off the bed slowly, making sure that Dick could see his hands. Dick didn't respond. 

"Dick you were having a nightmare, I didn't want to pin you put you were going to hurt yourself.' Jason tried to explain and the wild look was coming out of Dicks' eyes like he was slowly coming back to reality. Jason decided to keep talking in hopes it would bring Dick back to the present quicker

"Do you know where you are?' Jason asked. Dick looked around the room wildly, his fingers spread over the walls. He nodded 

"Can you talk?" He had heard the older man speaking in his sleep but that didn't mean anything, he could still very well be mute. 

"yeah" Dicks voice was weak and almost silent, If Jason hadn't been right there he wouldn't have even heard it. 

"Good, can you tell me who I am?" Jason asked, trying to gauge where Dicsk mind was

"Ta - um - mira - no - um - Jay - Jason - Jason" Dick took a minute to come to the conclusion, it was saddening to watch but relieving to hear. 

"And where are you?'

"Apartment" Dick whispered and Jason nodded reassuringly. 

"I'm supposed to be getting better, you said I would get better, why am I not getting better!" Dick demanded tears had started to fall again. It stabbed Jason in the gut that Dick felt like he wasn't getting better, Jason could see the progress. Small slow progress but none the less.

"You are getting better but you have to give it time. Can i see your wrist?" Jason asked. He had slowly been getting closer and was now standing in front of dick. DIck looked down at his wrist like he hadn't noticed it yet.

"My - my wrist?" he muttered

"You hit it in your sleep"

"hit it in my sleep" the mirror repetition thing was a little annoying but he let it slide this time since it seemed to be helping DIck stay grounded. Dick held his hand out and Jason grabbed it gently. It already had dark purple bruising around it, he ran a finger across it and DIck gave a sharp hiss. It was broken.

"It's broken" Jason declared annoyed, not at Dick but at the situation "We can call Alfred or we can go to the hospital but I don't have the crap to fix it"

Dick looked down like he was thinking "Alfred' he whispered.

"want him to bring anything else from the manor?" 

"Zitka" Dick whispered and Jason had to remember what the hell a Zitka was. Before he could question it Dick piped up again "and Damian but don't tell"

"You can tell them whatever the fuck you want but if you're going to lie you need to think of a convincing story fast" with that he left the room to go find his phone. 

"Hello Master Jason, this is a bit odd of a time for a courtesy time" Alfred spoke on the other end of the line and Jason had to bite back frustration. He felt weak knowing he wasn't enough to protect his brother. But he was willing to sacrifice a small amount of dignity if it meant helping dick.

"Hey Al, I need your help" Jason paused "unofficially" he added. Unofficially was the bat-kids way of saying they needed something from Alfred that Batman couldn't know about

"would this unofficial help have to do with the fact you claim to not be harbouring master Dick?"

The question cut through and confirmed what Jason thought. Alfred was some kind of god damn psychic "It does, ill text you the address you need to bring stuff to cast a fractured wrist, Dicks stupid toy elephant, and the demon brat if you can"

Chapter Text

Dick P.O.V

DIck could hear Jason talking to Alfred on the phone. He wished he had chosen to go to the hospital. They were going to get there, Alfred and Damian. DIck would have to tell them what happened, Jason wouldn't do it. Jason would go along with whatever Dick told them.

Would DIck tell them the truth?

Could Dick tell them the truth?

If he told them Alfred wouldn't say anything, he had to much respect. Damian would probably call him weak, tell him he was a disappointment, a disgrace who couldn't even help themselves. He would be right. DIck was a disappointment. A filthy, disgusting, weak, stupid, disappointment. He wouldn't be surprised if Damian went back and told everyone how weak and pathetic he was. They would all disown him, take away his Nightwing costume. What kind of hero could he be if he couldn't even defend himself? 

Dick began to pace the floor in tight circles. He would have to tell them the truth, a lie wouldn't work. he had to tell them but they would hate him. Jason already hated him, he was sure of it. He was sure that Jason had hated him from the moment he stumbled in five days ago and was just being polite. Jason was so sick of him that he would throw DIck out at a bat the first opportunity he had. If the bat found out he would abandon dick. 

They would know how disgusting he was, disgusting disgusting

Disgusting

Dirty 

useless

weak. 

They would hate him and he deserved it, just like he deserved what Tarantula did. This was all his fault, all his karma for everything he had let happen, his karma for blockbuster dying and for cheating of Kory. He could feel his chest starting to hurt and he knew he was working himself into a panic attack but he couldn't stop. His family, his only family would look at him with disgust, they would know and they would blame him. It was his fault, he should have stopped her, he should have been stronger, he should have told Jason to take him to the hospital, he shouldn't have come here, he should have just killed himself and gotten it all over with. 

Dick brushed a hand through his hair trying to calm himself down. He accepted the fact that he was a disappointment but he didn't want to be in the midst of a panic attack when Damian and Alfred got there. He didn't want them to see how low he had fallen, how pathetic he had become. It didn't help at all, he was still breathing too fast. He closed his eyes trying to remember how to come down from a panic attack on his own. He wanted to call out for Jason but he didn't. He didn't want another reason for his oldest little brother to hate him any more than he already did. Still, his thoughts were becoming fuzzy and he couldn't think. He wrapped his hand around his injured wrist squeezing it tightly. It took all his training not to scream and it hurt like a bitch but it did the trick. His breathing had stabilized and he wasn't panicking anymore.

He walked out in the living room and sat down on the couch drawing his feet up and resting his head on his knees. Jason didn't like feet on the furniture, DIck didn't care at the moment. he was just so tired, he would wait there till the other arrived.

Damian P.O.V

Damian wasn't sure what to expect when Pennyworth woke him up at two in the morning claiming to need his help on "unofficial" business for Todd. He was aware of the implications behind the word unofficial coming from the old butler. It meant no bat, no capes, and no telling anyone who wasn't present. It was a rare thing and usually only happened when someone was injured doing something they weren't supposed to. He was hesitant to comply with the secret mission, as he wasn't a huge fan of working with Todd until he noticed that the butler was holding a small grey stuffed elephant. 

Zitka, Grayson's beloved stuffed toy that he had since he was a baby. That was all he needed to convince him to get up and get dressed, three minutes later they were in the car. Damian holding a Fracture first aid kit (A first aid kit box with first aid marked out and the word fracture written over it, it obviously had all the stuff to treat fractured bones in it instead of the normal first aid materials), the small stuffed elephant, and a bottle of antibiotics. Damian had demanded to know where it was that they were going and what exactly this secret mission was however he was only disappointed by being told that neither of them actually knew what was going on. Just that Todd was secretly harbouring Grayson who had gone A.W.O.L five days age, after behaving really strangely for a couple of weeks prior. 

He wasn't sure what to expect when he got to Todd's safehouse, this was one of the nicer safehouses of the very edge of Bludhaven. It was the source of constant arguing between Nightwing and Red Hood over who's territory this particular area was since it was just on the border of the two towns. What he wasn't expecting was to see Grayson sitting on a couch in the fetal position with his head on his knees and his hands over his head, an icepack loosely tied to his left wrist. It wasn't that Damian hadn't seen him in the position before, it was a common position that Grayson often claimed to be very comfortable. But something about it gave Damian bad vibes and sent shivers down his spine. The air in the safehouse seemed too tense and tight, it all seemed very wrong. DIck was sitting too still, his skin looked too pale, he had bandages peeking out under his clothes, even the way his hair was tussled seemed wrong.  "WHAT HAPPENED?" Damian demanded, letting anger mask fear and he barked at Todd. The older vigilante didn't seem affected, in fact, he just seemed tired.

"You're gonna have to talk to him demonspawn" Todd snapped. Todd was being snippy so it meant that it wasn't an immediate life or death situation, this calmed Damian a little. Damian was about to walk away and let Todd and Pennyworth talk when Todd stopped him. "Also, don't touch him unexpectedly he's" Todd seemed to be thinking of a word to match the situation without revealing too much "Jumpy." Damian raised an eyebrow and noticed that bruises forming on Todd's arms. Had Dick attacked him? That didn't seem like something Dick would do. Was Dick going to attack Damian?  Of he did it wouldn't matter, with a presumably broken wrist and the state he looked to be in an attack from him would be sorry at best. That thought was more concerning than it was comforting.

"Grayson?" Damian asked, trying to keep his voice a little lower. He was standing a few feet in front of his oldest brother (and the only one he would actually claim as his brother even though tye weren't genetically related). Grayson lifted his head and looked at Damian blankly, his eyes looked empty and the colour looked dull. It was a sad almost pathetic site.

"Hey Dami" Dick whispered just above a whisper. All the bright energy in his voice, the same stupid optimistic energy that consistently pissed Damian off, was gone. Damian missed it more than he ever imagined he could. Something burned in him, he didn't know what had happened but if Todd hadn't already killed whoever did this to Grayson than Damian certainly would. Grayson sounded like he was going to cry, Damian had never seen Dick look so weak before.

"Can I have a hug?" Grayson asked almost silently and it felt kind of like being slapped. Grayson NEVER asked for hugs, he just marched up and took them. No matter how much the other person, *cough* Damian *Cough*, fought him. Now he sounded like he was almost scared to ask. Something was telling him that if he didn't give Grayson his hug now he probably wouldn't be getting any hugs for along time. As much as he denied his love for the sparatic physical contact he knew it would feel weird in the manor without it.

"Tt, yeah whatever," Damian tried to sound like he wasn't concerned, he was. He walked closer to Grayson and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the older man. DIck responded hugging him as tight at he could without injuring his broken wrist again. Damian felt himself be pulled closer and practically into Grayson's lap. Then he felt Dick bury his face into Damian's shoulder. He didn't struggle or try to get away, he just let Grayson take all the physical contact he needed. Hoping that Dicks kinesthetic nature would help to pull him out of whatever rut he was in. 

Damian noticed the dampness on his shoulder were Grayson was laying, the man's body was shaking lightly. He was crying if Damian hadn't been set on murder before he sure as hell was now. He didn't say anything letting himself be pulled more onto his brother's lap. As soon as he tightened his grip protectively around the crying man Grayson started crying even harder, soft sobs muffled against Damian's shirt. Normally Damian would have seethed and fought against being used as a stuffed animal but for now, he couldn't bring himself to do anything other than comfort him. 

"I'm sorry" Dick eventually whispered between soft sobs. Murder ran like ice through Damian's blood but he couldn't stop himself for asking. 

"Sorry for what Grayson?" He tried not to let his emotion show in his voice but he tightened his grip on him. 

"I'm weak" Grayson whispered. Damian teased and taunted Grayson a lot but he didn't believe that. Grayson wasn't weak. He was the first Robin, the Nightwing, and an amazing vigilante. What had shaken him so much that he was sitting here broken down on a couch doubting his strength? Damian wondered briefly if this had anything to do with Damian's constant teasing and taunting over the two weeks that he had been at the manor. Damian was trying to think of the words to say. Trying to figure out what he could even do or say that could convince his brother that he wasn't weak. before he figured it out Grayson was muttering into his shoulder again.

"Weak, stupid, useless, dirty so fucking dirty" Grayson looked up at Damian again. Damian swallowed hard around the knot in his throat, he wished he knew what was going on.   

"What happened?" Damian asked looking Grayson in the eyes but not loosening his grip at all. Grayson shook his head and laid his head back on Damian's shoulder. 

"So dirty, my fault, said no, should have fought, didn't, too weak, my fault so so dirty" Grayson muttered out brokenly and started scratching at his arm with no real strength. Each word felt like a match adding to the rage in Damian's soul. He was trying to come up with ANY conclusion other than the one that was bouncing around in his head. He was trying to make that string of words come out to any other meaning. He thought briefly that maybe Grayson was too out of it to be coherent, but something with the look in Graysons eyes was telling Damian that wasn't the problem. Grayson knew and meant what he was saying. Damian grabbed Graysons hand gently away from where it had been scratching and held it in his hands. Grayson had begun to cry again. Damian just sat there one arm holding him tightly and the other holding his hand to stop him scratching. 

Damian was seeing blood, somebody was going to die. But now wasn't the time to plan murders, now was the time to hold his older brother until he cried himself out. 

Chapter Text

Damian P.O.V 

By the time Todd and Pennyworth came into the livingroom Grayson had cried himself into a state of utter exhaustion and was leaning heavily against Damian. Damian was hugging him tightly the entire time, he had been muttering about being Dirty and Weak the entire time. Damian didn't know how to comfort him so he just sat in silence and stroked Grayson's hair. The way Grayson often did for him after nightmares. He made a mental note to never call Grayson weak or dirty in any of his teasing and taunts ever again. Several times Grayson would start scratching at his arms and Damian would have to take his hand away to stop him from injuring himself, had this been the cause of the bandages on his arms and legs? Had he been so out of it that he had been scratching himself to the point of needing to be bandaged? Damian felt terrible for not noticing, he had felt something off about Grayson during the two weeks he had been at the mansion. His sparing had been off, his injuries had been frequent, and his patroling had been sparatic. But somehow he had managed to dismiss it as stress for being a team leader, a hero, and a full-time police officer. 

Todd and pennyworth came in almost silently and looked from Grayson to Damian. "Master Dick, are you awake" pennyworth's a voice was gentle. Damian briefly wondered what it was the two of them had been talking about, considering how unwilling Todd was to reveal Grayson's secret. Dick only response was a small groan. He must have been really out of it to give so little response to the older man, who Grayson loved like a grandfather. Pennyworth seemed to take that as enough response and gentle started wrapping Grayson's wrist. 

"What happened to his arm?" Damian asked, his voice sounded weaker than he intended it to. He pulled Grayson closer as the man flinched softly away from Pennyworth touch, which didn't seem to bother the butler in the least. 

"He hit it on the nightstand during a nightmare" Todd snapped, he looked positively exhausted. The circles under his eyes were dark and his skin had taken on a tinge of pale that it didn't normally have. 

"Why didn't you restrain him if he was a risk for injuring himself," Damian asked with all the rage he could manage, which wasn't much. He knew the Grayson had several inches and at least thirty pounds on Todd.

"He's a flexible freak, I did my fucking best" Todd spat. Damian knew he meant nothing by the words, everyone even Grayson joked about how he was inhumanly flexible at times,  but it still made the overprotective urge in him kick up and he bit back a growl of disgust. The room was silent other than small whines of pain from Grayson every so often as Pennyworth continues to wrap his fractured wrist. Every time Grayson whimpered Damian pulled him closer and sent death glares at a seemingly unaffected butler. 

"I believe that we should go back before Master Bruce awakens" Pennyworth informed after finishing up Grayson's wrist. Damian actually snarled like an animal when the butler tried to move him. He wasn't going to move from Graysons side

"You can tell Father whatever you desire, I refuse to leave Grayson like this" He hugged Grayson tighter and the man seemed to responsively curl into him. If he hadn't been so focused on growling at the older men he would have wondered just how conscious Grayson was. If he had intended to do that or if the timing of his curling was just coincidental. Todd and Pennyworth looked at each other and Todd shrugged. This was Todd's way of saying he didn't give s shit if Damian stayed. For that Damian was grateful, but really if he had been forced to go home he would have just snuck out and broken back into Todd's apartment. This was unspoken but well known in the silent room.

In the end, pennyworth left without Damian and after much convincing Damian allowed himself to detach from Grayson long enough for Todd to take the older man to his room which Damian joined him again in the bed. Damian didn't sleep the night, he had slept a few hours previously and could easily run off of just that. Instead, he held Grayson throughout the night pulling him closer every time he would make as mall noise

Dick's P.O.V

Dick woke up cold and in his bed alone. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his wrist, what had happened last night? He looked at his wrist, it was bandaged - Alfred style bandages. He slowly remembered the previous night. 

He had night terrors, his screaming woke up Jason, Jason had restrained him but not before he broke his wrist on a nightstand, Alfred and Damian had come over, Alfred wrapped his wrist and left, Damian had stayed the night.  

Damian had stayed the night, where was he? He looked at the bed, it was still messed up on that side and warm. Damian had been there recently, it was almost nine he was probably out training or making breakfast. Had Dick told Damian what happened? Had he confessed? he couldn't remember his brain was swimming and he was so tired. He slowly pushed himself out of bed careful of his hand. It hadn't hurt last night but now the pain was excruciating, he wondered if Alfred had left pain medication. No, he didn't deserve pain medication, he didn't deserve relief. He had caused so much trouble recently he deserved to be in pain. 

With that thought, he padded silently into the kitchen. Damian was standing in a still dark kitchen, on his tiptoes stirring something on top of the stove. There were two pots of coffee made and one was already almost empty. Dick smiled a little bit, something about how Damian stood made it obvious how young he was. Dick was tainting that youth with his depression and dirty confessions. He shouldn't have requested Damian come over with Alfred, Jason shouldn't have let him stay. "Grayson, are you planning on standing there and gawking all day or are you going to offer me help?" Damian snapped without even turning to look at Dick. Dick was very confused for several seconds, Damian never asked for help. Especially when it came to not being tall enough, Dick didn't question it. 

"U-um" he stuttered in surprise, blinking away his confusion and grabbing the step stool from beside the fridge and opening it for his little brother. Damian grunted in thanks and crawled up onto it. DIck just sat down and let himself think. He couldn't remember the dream. The whole kitchen smelled like spices, it always did when Damian cooked. 

Damian cooking was so different from Alfred cooking which was super different from Jason cooking. 

When Damian cooked it look like the kitchen exploded. There was always something like 700 different spices of various shades of red, green, and yellow usually at least with some of each spilt on the counter. Packages torn open and thrown to the side, dishes thrown in the sink, small drips of food on the sink. Ingredients added by rough estimates and vague handfuls. It was a mess but it was good. When Jason cooked he was meticulously clean about everything, his food was always super simple and precisely measured down to the ounce. He kept the kitchen perfectly clean, washing and putting stuff up as he cooked. When Alfred cooked it was a middle point between the two of them. He measured ingredients loosely, he didn't put the stuff away as he cooked like Jason but he made sure everything stayed clean on the counter.  All their food was good but there was just something about watching Damian cook that always made Dick smile. Just the way he put all his dedication into cooking the same way he put it into being robin or taking care of small animals. 

He was napped out of his thoughts by a cup of coffee and a plate of food being sat in front of him. He didn't know what it was but it smelled amazing and looked better. He felt hunger rumble in his stomach. When was the last time he had eaten? A voice whispered in the back of his mind 

you don't deserve to eat, your weak

the hunger vanished and he looked at the plate with a sudden disinterest. the smell that he had been enjoying suddenly felt acidic like it would make his sick. Instead, he just grabbed his coffee and took a small drink. It was just like Dick liked it, a lot of creamers but not so much it offset the harsh bitterness of the coffee itself. When he took a drink he hardly tasted it. Damian sat down across the counter from him frowning, he had yet to touch his food. He was just staring at Dick, Dick didn't like it. A knot formed in his stomach making it sink lower, he knew he probably wouldn't like what happened next.   

"Eat!" Damian ordered, his voice was stark and commanding. He sounded a lot like Bruce. Dick just looked down at the food 

"I'm really not hungry Little D" Dick lied quietly. He met Damian's eyes and saw something in them he couldn't place. It wasn't the normal anger or disgust he saw when he looked at the younger man. Nor was it the Pity and Loathing that he often caught glimpses of when Damian crawled into his room in the middle of the night. It was something he had never seen before, it made him uncomfortable. Damian continued to stare him down. He had hoped he could get off easy but that was seemingly less likely the more they sat there. 

 "Eat or I'm not eating" Damian spoke clearly. His words made Dicks' stomach sink, he suddenly felt sick. 

"Dami, don't do this" Dick whispered looking at Damian.

"Grayson you have lost a significant amount of weight and unless Todd has been monitoring your intake I highly doubt you have been adequate nutrition. EAT." Damian's voice left no room for discussion. Dick looked him down wondering if he could out stubborn the younger boy. Then he remembered Damian's training as a child, the boy could easily outlast Dick in who could go without eating. But DIck didn't want to do that, he didn't want to even try outlasting Damian, he knew that the boy wouldn't just eat whenever Dick wasn't around. He would dedicate 100% and not eat until DIck did. Dick frowned and took a bite of his food. It didn't taste like anything, Damian was still staring him down. He took a few more bites and breathed a sigh of relief as Damian started eating along with him. Only taking as many bites as Dick did. 

They didn't talk as they ate "Where is Jason" Dick asked drinking down his coffee. The man hadn't joined them yet despite it being over an hour since they had woken up. 

"Todd went out for the day, we are going out as well," Damian said and took a long drink of his coffee. Dick noticed Damian's coffee had creamer in it, Damian only ever drunk creamer when he was running on less than two hours of sleep. Dick tried not o think about it but the guilt had built up in his chest. Damian was running on almost no sleep and threatening to starve himself because DIck had been selfish enough to drag the young boy into this mess. Worse than that Jason was so sick of him he just left the second he had a chance, just to be away from DIck. 

"I don't want to go out today" Dick tried to sound casual but he knew that there was no fighting the younger boy. he could argue but it wouldn't get him anywhere. 

"There is a new shop in the mall," Damian said, completely side-stepping Dicks comment. " Acrobatics and Gym equipment, we're going. You don't have a say in this" With that Damian took both their plates. Dick had only eaten a small amount of food and felt super guilty as Damian took the plate because Damian had also only eaten as much as Dick did. DIck continued to drink his coffee quietly and watched his little brother clean.

"You need help little D?" DIck asked pathetically. He hoped Damian said yes, he wanted to fee useful since he hadn't been on patrol in six days. He hadn't done anything in six days. 

"Tt, I don't need you. Just go take a shower you fucking stink"

The words stabbed through Dick and he tried to not flinch away. He didn't even scold Damian for swearing, he just walked toward the room to grab his clothes.

Damian had said 'I don't need you' and logically Dick knew that he was strictly referring to cleaning the kitchen but there was a voice in his mind whispering and hissing. 

They don't need you, they've never needed you. You should just die and stop being such a god damn burden to everyone.  

Dick turned the water on as hot as it would go and stepped under letting it burn his skin. It burned all the healing patches of raw red skin that he had scrubbed onto himself. When he had agreed to Jason rule of no more scrubbing he had kept his promise. As soon as he stopped trying to scrub it off every day the feeling of being permanently dirty ebbed a little bit, just like Jason had said it would. But Jason hadn't told him that it would be immediately replaced by the violent and uncurbable desire to hurt himself in any way possible. The feeling had come on so strong and so fast it had scared Dick and made him question his sanity. He hadn't consciously noticed he was using the scrubbing as a way to hurt himself.

To punish himself for being too weak and for being such a burden on others. 

"If this continues. If the self-harm continues. I'm not going to protect that, I will turn you over to the bat." Dick thought about his conversation with Jason. The one where they had set up rules. But Dick wasn't self-harming. The scalding hot water that burned his skin, refusing pain medication, hardly eating, barely sleeping. Those weren't self-harming because self-harming left marks and scars and these didn't, so they couldn't be self-harming.

Dick didn't even believe those words as they flew through his mind, he wasn't ignorant he knew what he was doing. He knew he was hurting himself, but he deserved to hurt, he deserved pain. Maybe the pain would make him stop being weak because that's what he was weak. Weak, stupid, useless, dirty, better off dead. Dick swallowed hard wrapping his hand around his bad wrist and squeezing it tightly. It had already been pulsing in pain and squeezing it shot pain and adrenaline through his whole body. The adrenaline made him feel awake and alive for the first time all day. A thought struck him, he just needed to convince his brothers that he was okay until his wrist was better, about two weeks. Then he could go back to being Nightwing and he would just use the adrenaline from being vigilante to keep the empty black feeling at bay. 

With no announcement, Damian walked in the bathroom holding his towel and his clothes folded into a neat pile that he sat on the sink next to DIcks. "Um... little D what are you doing? Dick asked already knowing the answer

"We have showered together previously" The ten year old informed, and it was a true enough statement "So because I want to be at the mall before the afternoon rush and Todd only had one shower I decided that we could share." He paused and looked at Dick with a cocked eyebrow "are you going to kick me out"

No, Dick would never kick Damian out, Dick had told him that before. Damian was always welcome around Dick and they had shared showers before so he didn't have any ground to stand on. "No, come on in," He said and stepped back so there would be enough room for Damian to join him. Damian stepped in the shower and immediately jerked away with a loud hiss.

"THE FUCK GRAYSON!" Damian yelled and jerked the water down to as cold as it went. Dick had forgotten that he had the heat on all the way and a pang of guilt settled in his throat, he had burned Damian with the hot water. It wasn't serious, probably just startled the younger man more than anything but he still felt awfully guilty about it happening at all. The remnant warm water faded and was replaced by the ice-cold, any trace of guilt was lost as Dick felt suddenly dizzy and sick to his stomach. He had been avoiding cold showers since it happened, they remained him too much of the rain and the rooftop. He squeezed his eyes closed hard and he could smell the cold wet Gotham streets, an awful smell. He unconsciously scratched at his chest where her hands burned against his skin. 

Not really, he tried to tell himself, it wasn't real. He couldn't stop though. He felt his nails tearing open the slowly healing cuts on his chest from several days ago. He felt someone grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm away. He was bordering on a panic attack and he knew it. His chest was tight, the water was cold, his arm burned where someone was holding it. Someone was talking, he tried to focus and ground himself. He was tottering on the very delicate edge between having a panic attack and not but reality was slipping fast in torturous favour of the memories. HE tried to focus again on the voice. 

"Richard open your eyes" It was Damian. Dick forced his eyes opened, they felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. He hadn't moved at all. Damian was standing in front of him holding his wrist down, looking halfway between concerned and pissed. 

Of course, he's pissed, he's pissed that his older brother is so god damn weak

The voice in Dicks mind tore through him and blended in with the other array of confusing voices and thoughts. Damian was still talking to him, he looked at the boy and tried to focus on what it was saying.

"What ... Trigger... Richard ... " Dick wasn't sure if it was his brain of Damian's voice that kept fading in and out of clarity. Was Damian trying to ask what triggered him?

"Water" he managed to gasp out ruggedly "Cold" His voice sounded so god damn pathetic even to his ears. It was just water, why was water setting him off, he was so god damn weak. 

"You love cold showers" Dick managed to focus on Damian's entire sentence this time and he shook his head

"Cold rain" he whispered "her hand" he tried weakly to go back to scratching his chest but the grip on his arm tightened to a not uncomfortable but firm grasp. Dicks vision was starting to blur from tears but he didn't feel so close to a panic attack now. He felt the water heat up marginally but not as hot as he had originally had it. It was a nice comfortable temperature. 

"Is that better?" Damian asked, there was an odd tone in his voice, Dick was too tired to focus on it. DIck just nodded 

Just as they were about to leave Jason came back to the house. Damian didn't mention what happened in the shower and DIck was grateful for it. They invited Jason to join them but the younger man said he wanted to stay in and be alone for a bit. Of course, he wanted to be alone, Dick was so god damn annoying and bothersome, anybody would want to be alone rather than with his stupid ass. The mall was nearby and the new store was nothing particularly interesting. It was full of very basic acrobatic equipment like uneven bars as well as basic workout equipment. Weights and resistant bands and shit like that. 

The mall was super busy and loud, it was a nice change from the quiet in Jason's apartment. They walked around the mall quietly, it wasn't unpleasant but it wasn't something either of them really did in their free time. Dick was grateful for the change of pace, he hadn't wanted to leave the house but now he was happy that he was out. Being in the centre of the loud bustling crowd seemed to fill him with a new kind of energy. They had been therefor a couple of hours when they walked into a bookstore looking at random books. It was near silent in the bookstore. Dick had been looking at a fairy tale book when he heard Damian's stomach growl. The guilt from remembering how little he'd eaten that morning sat heavy on him again.

"You hungry their kid?" Dick asked sitting his book down and looking at Damian who was reading something about geology. Of course, the kid was reading something sciency while Dick looked at fairy tales, Damian at ten was far smarter than Dick was at nineteen. 

"Are you going to eat" Damian retorted back sitting his book down as well. He didn't want to eat, he didn't feel like he deserved to eat. He knew what Damian's game was. He was manipulating Dick into taking care of himself by forcing Dick into Forcing Damian to take care of himself. It was a roundabout way of doing it and Dick knew he was being manipulated but he also knew it worked. He'd one it to Tim in the past to get the boy to sleep. 

"Come on," Dick said and began walking to the food court, Damian followed wordlessly. This food court had a vegetarian restaurant that they both ordered from. Dick respected Damian's choices enough that he didn't eat meat in front of the boy if he could avoid it. Damian never said anything but he knew that Damian appreciated the gesture. The situation at the table was the same one as the house in the morning. Both of the sittings across from eachtoehr neither eating. Dick wasn't going to start a fight here, he stabbed a piece of eggplant and slowly ate. Damian at a pace and amount that matched Dick's almost equally. Dick didn't taste the food, it all sat heavy in his stomach. He didn't deserve to eat, he was weak and dirty. 

He pushed the thoughts to the side, he was going to enjoy this rare day out with his youngest brother. 

After a tense lunch, they stayed and walked around the mall a couple of hours and bought a few things. After that, they walked to a few other small shops around town and then went back to the apartment. Walking in the apartment Dick was hit with the smell of bleach and an undertone of cigarette smoke. Jason had fallen asleep on the couch reading a book. Dick wondered what made him decided to smoke inside, considering even Jason hated the idea of his stuff (his books mostly) smelling like cigarette smoke. He looked peaceful sleeping and DIck imagined he had probably been out all night after Dicks nightmare and then out all morning. It was rounding seven o'clock. 

"Grayson, I am aware with the state of your wrist you are unable to patrol. However, would you like to spar on the roof with me after it gets dark" Damian offered. Dick smiled a little bit for the first time in a week. He liked the idea of that, maybe the adrenaline of sparing would help ebb the blackness that was growing inside him.

Chapter Text

Jason P.O.V

As soon as the two of them were gone, every wall in Jason's mind seemed to shatter. All the repressed memories, triggers, and emotions that Dick had been dragging up over the last week seemed to hit him at once. not the Jason blamed him, he knew his brother wasn't doing this on purpose. But none the less Dicks nightmares, and the scrubbing, and the muttering about unwashable filth, and the panic attacks with the word Rape hanging heavy in the air. These had all stirred up old memories in Jason which he had managed to push out the back of his mind, behind a brick wall, for the sake of helping his brother.  

Now, however, his brother wasn't here. Damian had taken him out for the day. Now that he didn't have to be strong for his brother, that wall that he had built up just crumbled into nothing. His mind was swarmed with all the things he had been pushing away. 

Jason felt warm hands run up his back and he took a hissing breath in. They weren't real, he reminded himself but his heart sped up anyway. He forced himself to control his breathing. To fight the thoughts and memories back into his subconscious. This wasn't his trauma they were dealing with. his trauma had been over for years, he had done his screaming crying sleepless night and he had gotten over them. There was no need for this to be happening now. There was no reason for him to be dragged back by the events of the past week. 

A ghost hand gripped his thigh tightly, he knew it wasn't real but it felt warm anyway. His resolve quickly faded away and he let out a shaky sigh squeezing his eyes closed. He should have gone with his brothers, he had been invited. He thought he would enjoy the quiet after almost a week but it wasn't silent. It was filled with the voices of people who weren't there. 

He began to feel the ghost hand move up his leg and he balled his fist reminding himself this wasn't happening. He fought the urge to dig his blunt nails into his leg where he felt the hand, to claw until he felt nothing. He needed booze, a cigarette, and a book. 

He forced himself to move from that position, still taking measured breaths. Still reminding himself that those hands weren't real, he was alone and safe. He grabbed his cigarettes out of the counter drawer with shaky hands lighting one and taking a long drag. The acrid burn helped calm him a little, gave him a feeling of some control. He didn't normally smoke inside but he would make an exception this time, he couldn't let himself get consumed in years old memories. It had been over a year since he had last had any kind of panic attack over these memories and he wasn't going to let it change now. 

He turned on music, probably too loid. He didn't care he'd soundproofed this place the minute he got it. Mostly to stop nosy neighbours from complaining when he woke up screaming from nightmares. He took another long drag of his cigarette and focused on the smell and the taste and the burn in his lungs. He used those to ground himself and force the memories back where they came from. This had become his common practice over the years but today it didn't seem to be helping. 

He threw the butt of his cigarette out in the trash and lit another one taking a drag and holding it in his lungs till it started to hurt. Then breathed out as slow as he could manage. The feeling of the hands had started to fade into a general feeling of unclean-ness (or dirty as Duck had repeatedly said)and he felt himself slowly coming more into control. He knew it wouldn't last, he would be twitchy and jumpy the ought the day but for now it was enough for the phantom hands to just leave him alone. He could deal with the unclean feeling as long as the phantom hands were gone. 

He finished his cigarette and sighed. He would clean the hoise until the smell of cigarette smoke was gone. He thought he might get lucky and the cleaning would make the dirty feeling on his skin fade away. Of course, he knew that wasn't likely to happen because if he had been lucky he wouldn't have gotten a sensory flashback in the first place. 

And that's all it had been, he knew that. It was just a sensory flashback. There had been a time they sent him into a panicked crying pile on the floor but those days had passed. He could manage now, he just hoped that Dock would learn to manage as well. 

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks. His wrist was healing and things were steady. Dick was having his good days and his bad in about even numbers, which was a massive improvement from having almost 100% bad days. He had rejoined his team, told them he caught pneumonia on a mission and was welcomed back gracefully. After about four days Damian had been sent back to the mansion per the threat of Bruce coming and dragging him back himself. Tim had gotten back from his oversees mission and had become aware of everything he had missed (after Nightwing damn near had a panic attack on a rooftop in the rain one night on patrol)  Dick had left Jason's apartment to go back to his own after a week or so. On the good days, he was okay and he would train and sleep and eat fine. On the bad days, he often found himself at Jason's hideout or found Damian or Tim at his door. On the bad days, the blackness that had been resting on his soul seemed to consume everything and block out all the light. He laid in bed, not eating or sleeping. He fought the urge to hurt himself and mostly won. 

The nightmares and the unweilding feeling of being filthy seemed to ebb a little bit and things seemed to be getting generally better. But hat voice, the one that was in his head yelling and hissing at him. 

Dirty

useless

worthless

weak

annoying

better off dead

that voice didn't stop or go away. Dick tried to ignore it but it didn't work. Sometimes it was quiet but sometimes it was so loud he couldn't hear anything else. It told him to cut and starve and reminded him he was dirty and weak and lulled him with ideas of how easy killing himself would be. How he could just make it look like an accident. All he would have to do would be the file his line down. 

Back with Jason and Damian. The two of them had both been thirsting for blood. They had managed to find and take care of Mirage but Tarantula had still managed to evade and avoid them altogether. The info on the streets was less than informative and even with the help of all the bat-computer information, it was proving that nothing they were doing was having any effect. They, however, were still refusing to give up. The three of them had made a deal. Tim would help them find the bastard woman and Damian and Jason would make her suffer so the little bird didn't have to stain his hands. 

Dick wasn't sure how he had ended up here, laying on his bathroom floor. Blood slowly pooling down under him, vomit and saliva drying on his cheek. He wasn't sure what had caused the panic attack or the subsequent mental breakdown. He wasn't even a hundred per cent sure how he had ended up at home on his bathroom floor bleeding. His memory was broken and hazy at best.

There was glass on the floor scattered around him. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly. God he just wanted to die, he wasn't bleeding a terrible amount. He wondered if it was enough to bleed out while he slept. Probably not, he weakly grabbed a large chunk of glass off the ground. It looked like a piece of a mirror, had he broken his mirror. It didn't matter. He dragged the piece of a mirror back over to himself and squeezed it till it cut his palm. It stung. 

The voice in his mind decided to speak up. Pain is all you deserve, you should just kill yourself now. You're already bleeding might as well just cut yourself till you bleed to death. 

Dick let out a shaky sigh and dragged the glass over his skin where his Kevlar was torn. He didn't feel anything but watched as fresh blood joined the already congealing blood on the floor and it frustrated him. Why couldn't he feel anything, the whole situation felt like he was watching from somewhere far away. His whole body felt like it belonged to ton someone else. He knew he should call someone, he could tell them he was injured on patrol. He had gotten hit on patrol right? He couldn't remember. How had he started bleeding? Why was there glass on his floor? How had he ended up here? How had he gotten home? What had triggered the panic attack? What the hell had happened? His brain was too fuzzy to think. 

No, you should let yourself bleed and die like the disgusting weak slut you are

The voice growled. Dick whimpered trying again with the glass wanting to feel something, this time he felt a small tinge of pain as the bleeding sped up. He definitely hit something he shouldn't have, he was bleeding too much he was too dizzy. He needed to call someone before he passed out. He didn't want to call anyone, he wanted to die. He let the glass go and sighed shakily. He couldn't die, not tonight. He had to patrol with Robin tomorrow and there was that new movie he was going to see with Tim next week. He couldn't die. 

He knew his reasoning was faulty and weak but he used it and pushed himself into a half seated position. His vision was blurry and his head was spinning. He grabbed the gauze from under his sink and wrapped his leg where he had been bleeding as tight as he could. The blood was already staining through the cloth. The smell of blood was making him feel sick. Had he already thrown up? The room smelled like vomit? His vision was too blurry to make out anything. He put one hand on his toilet seat and one on the edge of the tub pushing himself into a position sitting on his knees. He rested there a minute, his lungs felt like they were working too hard. He was so dizzy, his vision had started to go black. 

Where had he put his phone? He couldn't remember. He grabbed at his communicator on his ear pressing any button he could. 

"What the fuck do you want Goldie I'm busy" It was Red hood yelling in his ear and he heard the sound of a gunshot over the speaker. 

"Injured" Dick whispered as loud as he could manage. He heard a few more gunshots over the speaker and wasn't sure if he had been heard.

"What kind of injured" He heard the younger boy demand over the speaker. His brain was fuzzy and he there was a loud ringer in his ears. The haze of his vision was fading to black. He closed his eyes and felt his body slump against the wall.

"Five" He whispered unable to get his mouth to form any other words. It was a rating scale they used on injuries when they were in too much of a rush for a thorough chek-in. One was nothing/only a few bruises/perfectly fine to keep going Three was normally broken bones/minor concussions/need help whenever it's available and Five was in poisoned/bleeding out/ completely defenceless in a hostile area/need immediate help. Dick could hear Red hood speaking to him but he couldn't hear the words over the loud high pitch noise in his ears. 

"NIGHTWING Statis and Location. You better not pass out on me you fucking idiot" He had heard that one.

"Safehouse" he choaked out "623 arhea..." his voice faded out and the beeping in his ears turned to static. He knew Red Hood had been at that safe house before, he didn't need the full address. "Blood" he whispered "Dizzy"

"Okay keep talking to me" He heard Red hoods voice increase, he wondered if the man somehow knew he was being drowned out by the static. "You're in the safehouse at Atheathin Street and your bleeding?" 

"Yes," Dick whispered, he knew he couldn't pass out. He lowered his head so it sat between his knees hoping it would help a little.

"Okay, why are you bleeding, what happened?"

"Don't remember"

"The fuck do you mean you don't know?" Red hood sounded angry "did you hit your head?"

"Think so" DIck whispered, his head was pounding. His stomach turned and he jerked forward leaning over the toilet vomiting. He was shaking so hard he couldn't keep his grip on the toilet seat. He slipped off the toilet and hit the floor again. Red hood was saying something he couldn't hear. Blackness was taking over his mind. Before he could slip into unconsciousness the voice in his head spoke up again 

Hopefully, you will bleed out and die before he gets here. It would be better that way.

He couldn't help but agree with it. 

Chapter Text

Jason's pov

Jason got to Dicks safehouse as fast as he could. It was about five minutes from when he had received the call but considering Dick had fallen silent after a bout of painful sounding vomiting Jason had assumed things were bad and Dick was unconscious. Dick had better be uncocuous because if he was simply not talking jaosn would save him then beat the shit out of him. 

Immediately as he came in the window he was hit with the overwhelming smells of blood and vomit. It sent his heart into his throat and panic settled in his stomach. 

Dick had been bleedimg and throwing up so the first place he woukd go would probably be the bathroom. Jason walked over to the bathroom quickly. The door was opened. Dick was laying on the floor. His unoform was ripped and he was surrounded by a small pool of blood, there was glass surrounding him presumably from the busted mirror on the wall. He had attempted to wrap injuries on his leg but they were done poorly. Probably a result of shaky hands and blood loss, and there had been a significant amount of blood loss. 

What happened? Had he been shot? Stabbed? Drugged? Had he did this to himself?

Jason cut the last thought off, Dick wouldn't do this to himself. He had stopped self harming and he wasnt suicidal anymore, was he? 

Jason felt the pulse in his neck. It was a bit stringy but it was there. There would be no way to work with this much blood on the floor so he picked the older man up and walked to thekitchen for better light. He sat dick on thr floor and crouched next to him peeling off his uniform and looking or anywhere still bleeding. 

There was a stab wound on his shoulder. It was still seeping but didnt look deep or dangerous so he put it as a low priority. He has several cuts and bruises on his arm, they looked to be from the glass missor. Some where fairly deep and bleeding rather well but they were also not the major source of blood. They e pit on a majority just above the shoulder. There was a large deep cut over his hip that was bleeding signifigantly but still not the main source, really it didnt even look like it had came from a knife. Jason added that to the list and tried to ignore the fact that cut was covering several other smaller and similar looking scars.

They looked like self harm scars.

No, right now with Dick still bleeding and unconscious wasnt the right time to worry about that. Jason hesitantly stripped the bandage off of dicks leg where it had been weakly wrapped and pulled the uniform away. That was the main source of the blood, two large long cuts down the length of his upper leg. They looked signifigantly deeper than the ones on his shoulder and they were still spilling blood. 

They didnt look like knife wounds, jason thought as he grabbed a first aid kit and began to stich them up. They looked like something more ragged and uneven. Glass prehapse or metal. Just like the one on his hip. They were also at a really awkward angle on him, and angle that sonebody would have to be under him, extremely close, amd significantly flexable to have made. The angle was making jason think even more thst maybe dick had done this to himself. the stab wound on his shoulder was definatly from someone else but the cuts on his arms, leg and hip, with the angle they were at it would have been near impossibke to get them from an outside individual. 

Had he seen he was bleeding, decide he would kill himself and it would look like an accident? like he had died from blood loss, then freaked out and called jason. 

Jason swallowed a scared knot in his throat trying to convince hismelf that wasnt what happened. Maybe someone had gotten him at a weird angle. Dick had been doing so good lately.. But he knew that it wasnt logical to assume because he had been acting fine meant he was at 100% dick always had been a performer. Either he had a panic attack (presumably caused by what/whoever stabbed his shoulder) and was self harming and cut too deep or he was trying to kill himself and pass it off as a vigilante death by bloodloss. 

With that sickening conclusion jason grabbed a rag and wiped some of the blood off of his brother and ran to the room to get clothes for his brother.

By the time Jason got Dick dressed and asleep on the couch he was begining to freak out that the older man wasnt waking. He checked his breathing and pulse again. Still both strong. 

"dick, dick you fucking asshole wake up" Jason shook the man. He was borderline desperate for a response. "dick wake the fuck up." he shook harder and received a small groan for his efforts. Atleast it was sometging

"Dickhead you need to tell me what the fuck happened" jason demanded feeling terrified. Dick groaned again and weakly smacked at jasons hand

"juzzt let me die" dicks voice was groggy and slurred. The knot in jasons throat increased and he let out a shuddering terrified breath. 

"Red Robin this is Red hood" he spoke into his ear peice "i need you to patch a private and secure line with me you and robin"

"okay just a minute" tims voice rang through and he heard his com click from one line to another "here we are"

"is it just the three of us? " jason demanded 

"yeah it is"

"hood what is going on?" damian voice barked

"we have an emergency at Nightwings Atheathin  safehouse. Yalll need to be here now"

"what kind of emergency"

" what is wrong with grayson" both the boys spoke over eachother and jason had to swallow the knot in his throat again. 

He's Fucking stable now but i think the idiot tried to kill himself."

Chapter Text

Dinah (Black Canary) P.O.V

Originally she wasn't going to go. Everything about the situation screamed that she should leave it. That anything unofficial enough to be described cryptically as plain clothes, no league, and NO BAT couldn't be a good thing. She thought about the phone call Red Robin, Tim, had given her. 

"We need your help" Tim had sounded off over the phone. He didn't say who 'we' were and it wasn't like him to be so cryptic 

"What kind of help?" She was intrigued

"Plainclothes help, but you can't tell the league or the bat"

She almost turned them down right then and there but something told her not to. She thought about the times Tim had called her to talk about when he was having depression episodes. This sounded different from that though and it made her concerned. "Tim, what's going on? What kind of trouble are you in?"

"It's not me, it's Dick, he's ... well ... I promised him I wouldn't say too much" That was the extent of the conversation. Two hours later she was being let into a small apartment with all the ex and current robins hovering at the door. It was rare to see all of them in one place, especially plain clothes, and especially looking six different types of nervous. She was half tempted to leave them and call the bat, ask him if he knew that the robins were conspiring on something. 

That's how she ended up in the position she was in. Sitting on a chair across from Dick. Dick was sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up, he had bandages on his arms and legs. His complexion was ghost white, his hair was matted, his eyes were expressionless, and he was thin. He reminded her of the grieving eight-year-old that she had met so many years ago and not the strong team leader she had seen a week ago. 

They told her that he'd been like that for three days. Barely eating, hardly sleeping, not speaking, or really moving from that spot unless someone forced him to. Something had happened, they told her, but they promised Dick that they wouldn't tell anyone what it was so she would have to get that information off the man himself. But after 'the incident' Dick was a wreck, he kept it under wraps for two months before he eventually came to Jason for help. They had a rough few weeks where the other two brothers got involved. But he had seemed like he was getting better, then one night he called Jason saying he was injured. Jason found him bleeding out on the bathroom floor. Jason thought it was a suicide attempt, Dick claimed he had cut himself too deep during a panic attack. 

Her heart broke listening to the rundown of the previous month. No wonder all of the boys looked like they had been up for days and were nervous messes. They had been keeping Dick on suicide watch, they said the one time they had left him alone they came back to him scratching himself bloody. She had asked if they told Bruce and they said every time anyone as much as thought about it DIck would have a meltdown and they would lose any progress they had made. They made it clear that they just wanted her to talk to him, nothing more. She didn't agree with their methods but she agreed to them, she would keep it quiet. So there she was, sitting in front of him. She had sent the boys out, told them to get some air and relax she would call them when she was done. The older two had agreed but getting Damian away from Dicks side had been a nightmare. Eventually, they had managed and now it was just the two fo them in the apartment. 

"Dick, can you look at me" She spoke in her softest, therapist voice. She tried to not let it show how heartbroken this entire situation made her. She had watched this boy grow up, hell she was practically his aunt and one of the first people to find out his identity but now he hadn't even acknowledged her. 

Dick didn't look at her, his head was turned to the left and his eyes were fixed on a known-descript spot on the floor. She could see why they had called her in, she just wished they had done it sooner. Before the potential suicide attempt. 

"Dick can you speak," She asked softly, she was one of the only people outside his family he knew of his tenancy to go mute. 

"Yeah" it was soft and he didn't look up from his spot on the floor but it was an answer, that was something. 

"Can you tell me what happened?" She was burning with dread and curiosity in equal parts to know what had set all this off. There hadn't been any major deaths in or around the league or his team lately so it had to have been something else, something big. There was no response. She suspected she wasn't going to get any response if she kept trying to lead the conversation. Something she had learned when she did sessions with Dick as a child was that DIck needed to lead the conversation. 

 "Can you tell me anything?" She tried, she wanted him to open the door and let her in. Forcing herself in wouldn't work. 

"Weak" he whispered "Dirty" His voice was cracked and shaky. Dinah's heart broke

"Weak because you have eaten?" She tried, she knew that wasn't what he meant. Expectantly he shook his head. 

"Okay what about Dirty, are you dirty because you haven't showered?" She offered once again already knowing the answer. Again he expectantly shook his head. He looked like he was getting frustrated which is what she wanted. Frustrated people talked. If he talked he would lead the conversation.

"Are you sure, your brother says you haven't showered in a couple of days" She edged him on. From her seat, she could see his eyebrows furrow and his frown deepened. 

"No" he whispered, his voice was shaking. She wished she didn't have to do it like this but this would be the only way to make him talk. "No, no, no" his voice got louder with every repetition and for a second she was nervous that he would lash out at her. Not that he could do much damage in his current state. Instead, he just started shaking his head fast and intense like he was a child.  

 "No, what Dick?"

"No" He exploded and looked at her, his eyes were wide and angry. Dinah wasn't sure which emotion she felt more of fear or pity. His hands were shaking now and she wanted nothing more than to go over there and comfort him. "Different kind of dirty, you don't understand!" He was yelling. He had tears in his eyes. Every second of this Dinah's heart broke more and more with every second. How had his brothers been hiding this for so long?  They said the incident happened almost three months ago. She had seen him dozens of times in the past three months, she had noticed him being a little off. how had she not known? 

"Then explain it to me" She went back to her gentle therapist voice. They were getting somewhere, she wasn't sure where it was they were getting. But it was definitely somewhere and that was good. 

"DIrty" he whispered again and she was afraid that she had lost her window to act "Dirty so Dirty. Hands, her hands, so  dirty, so sticky, can't wash it off, can't wash the dirty off, cant wash her hands away." He sounded desperate and he started clawing at the bandages, reflexively Dinah grabbed at his wrist. She was startled and surprised when he smacked her hand away harshly and looked at her with wide terrified eyes. "Don't touch me, DONT touch me, DONT TOUCH ME, so dirty, don't want, said no." His breathing was increasing and Dinah could spot the beginning of a panic attack when she saw it.

"Dick, it's okay I won't touch you" She reassured and help up her hands to show she wasn't near him

"Don't touch me, said no" he was muttering and had buried his face in his hands

"You said no" Dinah reassured softly "I won't touch you, just look at me" 

Dicks eyes came up from his hands and he looked at her. The dead empty look in his eyes was replaced by a broken sorrow, it was somehow worse. 

"I said no" he whispered into his hands, "i said no, said no, couldn't stop her, too weak, too weak, too weak"

A realization settled in Dinah's stomach and she wanted to cry "Dick," she tried softly "were you... Did someone ..." she swallowed hard trying to regain her professionalism "Were you raped?"

Dicks sobs were more than enough of a response. That explained a lot actually. She wondered if Red Hood had already killed whoever it was that did that to him, if not she wanted to kick her ass first. "Dick can I hug you," she asked softly wanting to comfort him, she had switched from therapist to aunt. Dick shook his head and continued crying "Can I sit next to you?" Dick nodded this time and she moved to the couch forcing herself not to touch or comfort him. 

"Weak, weak and dirty, said no, couldn't fight too weak" Dick muttered, it was heartbreaking and terrible. It made Dinah angry and sad and empathic toward him. 

"Look at me" she ordered, DIcks head popped up and looked at her. His face was red and his eyes were puffy. "Repeat what I say" she whispers. Dick nodded 

"It was not my fault" 

"It was not my fault" DIck whispered after her, she could tell he didn't believe it

"It was not my fault," she said again. Dick repeated it again still with no confidence

"I am not weak, i am not dirty" She moved on to the next thing

"I am weak" dick Muttered and turned his eyes down. 

"I am not weak, i am not dirty" She tried again. She knew he wouldn't believe anything he repeated but hearing himself say it would be good for him. It would compete for the negative thoughts

"I am not weak or dirty" Dick half muttered. It was enough for now.  

"I don't want to die," She said hopefully. DIck didn't repeat her. She tried again and was once again ignored. "Dick repeat me, Say I don't want to die" 

"I..." Dick stopped and looked down "I want to die"  his voice was barely above a whisper and If it hadn't already been destroyed by the entire situation it broke in her chest. 

"Was it a suicide attempt" she hadn't even intended to ask the question but it hung in the air heavy and demanding an answer. 

"No, had a panic attack and disassociation episode. I couldn't feel anything I was frustrated. I could see I hit something I was bleeding too much, I called Jason. I - I wish he had been too late" Dick explained everything. It was a positive improvement that he was speaking almost full sentences rather than the broken fragmented words like he had been at the beginning of the session. It was by no means a good thing, he was actively suicidal, having panic attacks, dissociation episodes, sensory flashbacks, and was severely depressed. This was worse than anything she had even helped Tim with. But full sentences and eye contact was a positive start. 

"They're so sick of me" DIck startled her from her thoughts "They hate me, I've been nothing but a nuisance since I came to Jason" 

She frowned at that and she wanted to take his hands in hers but she restrained herself. "Dick they don't hate you, you're hurting, your scared, they are scared as well, they just don't want to lose you. Do you understand me?" 

A small nod 

"I want to make sessions with you a weekly thing, I won't force you and neither will they. DO you want to do them?" She offered and prayed silently that he would say yes. She was honest, she wouldn't force him but god he really needed them. He should have been having therapy sessions three months ago when it first happened. Then it might not have gotten this far. He probably wouldn't have gotten this bad. 

"Yeah, weekly" Dick agreed. 

After she called his brothers to come back it took them ten minutes. The session had been over an hour and she was almost certain that they had been hanging close to the apartment the entire time. She promised to keep his secret and she would drop by every Wednesday for a therapy session. The only stipulation was that she needed to be in the loop on everything. Panic attacks, flashbacks, suicide or self-harm attempts, or if his depression got any worse. She needed to know. 

"Also," she told them "He feels bad for putting stress on all of yall and it's making things worse, you need to convince him that you don't mind helping him and you want to see him get better."

Chapter Text

Dicks P.O.V

He had woken up earlier than everyone else. Not from nightmares but just from a general restlessness, he had itchy feet that came from being on the ground for too long. Jason was still asleep in his room and Tim had been sleeping in the same room as Dick but the older boy managed to sneak away without him noticing. It wasn't that he was going far, in fact, he just made his way to the kitchen. Grabbing an apple and starting a pot of coffee. His appetite had been coming back over the last few days and it seemed to hit him that morning with all the hunger from all the skipped meals all at once. He was absolutely starving. 

He finished the apple quickly before grabbing another one and silently pouring a cup of coffee. It was around six in the morning, Tim would be up soon and Jason just a little bit after that. Dick would just stay here enjoying the quiet for a while. It had been a week since his therapy session and he wasn't going to lie and say everything was better. The session hadn't magically made everything okay again. His brothers still had him on suicide watch, rightfully so because he was still suicidal. He was still depressed, he still fought the urge to hurt himself. To listen to that voice that only continued to get more violent and degrading toward him. 

He knew his brothers were doing out of concern but the suicide watch was driving DIck crazy. He hated being constantly under observation, which might have been the reason why he was enjoying this morning quite so much. No voice, no brothers, just him and the quiet and the coffee. 

"Dick?" he heard a groggy voice speak from the other room.

"Kitchen" he called back quiet enough to not wake Jason but loud enough to be heard. He glanced at the clock, 6:45 am. Tim quietly padded into the room looking him up and down before turning to the coffee pot. Dick knew he was looking for injuries of anything that Dick couldn't have been doing alone in the morning. He hated and appreciated it in equal parts. The thoughts had crossed his mind, he's alone, there are plenty of knives, nobody would know. He had managed to burry it by focusing on the fact that he was in desperate need of food. 

"What are you doing in here?" Tim asked sitting across from him. His hair was tousled and he was looking at Dick in a tired investigative way. Tim had cut down on his caseload in order to help watch Dick, in a way Dick felt bad about it but in a way, he didn't because his little brother really needed to just cut down in general. 

"I was hungry." He threw the apple core into the trashcan, Tim looked at him weirdly, as if that had been the exact last thing he was expecting.   

"That good, you want something more filling than an apple ... or three, how long have you been out here?" 

Dick chuckled at the way he asked the questions. He did want something more filling than apples and he also wanted a serious change of scenery before he went crazy "can we go out to eat, I'm going stir crazy being locked up in here." It was a serious question but he played it off as a joke and Tim laughed. There was very little humour in it, it was a knowledgeful laugh form someone who had been put under suicide watch before. Someone who knew what it was like to have people watch your every move. 

"Yeah sure just let's just go get changed." 

Dick grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom leaving the door cracked opened. Normally he would just change in the room with Tim. But lately, he couldn't even stand the idea of people seeing him. But he couldn't be alone so this was their compromise. Dick caught a look of himself in the full-body mirror and frowned. The small cuts on his arms were still healing, they would heal perfectly fine and leave no reminders. However, the ones on his leg and hip would leave nasty puckered scars that would always be pale against his skin. The marks on his chest were at a point where they had a 50/50 chance of healing completely or scarring over. Your body is disgusting, you are disgusting. So god damn weak you left scars on yourself everywhere she touched.  His chest, his hip, his tights all scarred by his own hand where she had only left memories. 

"Dick?" The voice startled him out of his thoughts, he was still looking at the mirror with his shirt in his hands. "Get out of your head and let's go eat" Tim had popped his head in the partially open door. Dick felt guilty for being caught in his loathing and yanked his shirt on covering most the scars. He forced himself to smile as he joined Tim and Jason (who had heard them walking around, woken up, and invited himiself to their breakfast) and they walked to a waffle house. It was far enough that they could have driven but Tim seemed to sense Dick's need to move. 

The waffle house wasn't terribly full. They sat down in a corner that was fairly separate from the other small groups "Good morning, can I take your order" The waitress walked over leaning down slightly and smiling at them. They all ordered waffles and coffee. 

As soon as the food was at in front of them Dick was immediately digging in. His brothers eating at a much more reasonable pace and Tim laughing softly at Dicks antics, Jason just shook his head, and DIck would imagine if Damian was there he would have been giving Dick an Alfred sytle scolding. "Glad to see you have your appitite back," Tim said and Dick slowed down his eating. He blushed lightly suddenly embarrassed. 

"Yeah" he muttered. He wasn't really sure what he should say in this situation. "How has everything been, at work?" He asked and could tell that Tim immediately knew what he meant, Jason also peered up from his meal. They both knew he wasn't asking about the Wayne Enterprise job but rather their night jobs.

"It's been fairly peaceful" Tim spoke cautiously and watched for dicks response "We're excited for when you come back, but we don't want you back before your ready." He knew he had been banned from patrol for at least a month. It had been six days and he was already going mad. 

"Any chance I could come to some of the trainings?" He asked he wanted to at least spar and train durring the time he was benched

"Give it another week and we will talk about it." Jason was the one who spoke up this time. 

That wasn't the answer Dick wanted. He started eating again slower this time, his hands were sticky from the syrup. 

Sticky like her hands afte rshe made you -

Dick cut the voice in hsi head off with a rough swallow. This was going to be a good day, he wouldn't listen to that stupid voice. He looked back up at Jason and Tim eating in mostly silecnce. Only cut by the occasional verbal barb and taunt. It was fun and peaceful. 

"So queridos can I get you anything else, some fresh coffee?"

Dick tensed at that word and looked up, it was just a waiter. An slightly older looking hispanic woman, he breathed a sigh of relief. Tim ordered another coffee and Jason ordered a plate of bacon Dick dind't order anythign. 

"You okay over ther DIckhead?" Jason playfully sneared and Dick smiled 

"Yeah" He lied as convensingly as he could. They seemed to have bought it. But the word was till ringing in his ears

Shh querido he can't hurt us anymore 

The words rang loudly in his ears and he felt sick. It was some kind of sick twisted humor that she was the one hurting him. He pushed out of his seat as casually as he could with the building panic in his chest.

"Where are you going?" He dind't know who was talking to him, he didn't look, he didn't care

"Restroom" he answered passingly and walked off before one of them could say anything else. He was suprised when he got to the bathroom and neither hadn followed him. He splashed his face with warm water trying to get her voice out of his head. After several minutes of just breathing and splashing himself with water he looked up at the mirror. God he looked like shit, well not exactually. He looked fine to anyone who dind't know him, but compaired to his normal apperance he looked like shit. When had he gotten so pale? When had his cheek bones become that prominant? When did he become so thin? 

Their patrience must have run out because Jason walked into the bathroom "You know running away isn't going to get you back on patrol any faster" Jason joken and Dick let out a dry laugh. 

"Yeah, sorry, I just..." 

He just what? He was freaking out because of some stupid word and some stupid syrup. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack and ran away because he could stand the idea of appering any weaker than he already did? Because if he had freaked out in the dinner it would have been a newspapers play-day. 

"We gonna finish breakfast or you plan to hide in here?" Jason was obviously avoiding asking what happened. Dick appreciated it in an odd way. He didn't answer outloud just walked over to his brother and they both walked out of the door. Tim was waiting at the table looking immediatly ready to leave if necessary. Jason made a gesture and TIm relaxed and typed on his phone. It was probably to Dinah, she demanded to be kept in the loop in exchange for not outing the situation to the bat. They sat back down and continued to have breakfast.

They ate and hung out for several hours without incidents before heading out. The entire time Dick was fighting not to get lost in thought. He was thinking about the reflection in the mirror, how it dind't eevn look like him. Pale skin, dull eyes, thin sharp features, none of those would be things normally used to describe him. He had known that she stole his body and his confidence but he hadn't noticed till he looked in the mirror that it looked like she stole his soul as well. The look in his eyes was one he had seen before, it was one that was worn by kids he rescued from fighting/sex slavery/torture rings, young men he had tried (and sometimes failed) to talk down from jumping or shooting themselves, young wemon in the red light district often underage, the look Tim wore everytime he felt he could have saved someone if he was faster, the look Bruce wore when Jason died, the look he himself wore when he was eight. 

It was the look of someone who had been completely torn down to their bare minimum and wasn't sure if they ever wanted to get back up again. It fucking terrified Dick, to look at himself and see that broken expression. He wanted to just wash his face and have it gone, he wanted it gone. He hated it, more than the scars and the voice and the nightmares he HATED that look. He didn't care what it took, he would get rid of the look. Either he would recover and get over this or he would kill himself. 

He could get over this, couldn't he? People got over rape, Jason had done it and Dick could do it. Maybe he should ask Jason how he did it.

"Oh don't forget Dinah will be at the apartment in an hour" Tim said as they were leaving the waffle house. He was leaving to go do some stuff for his actual job. The one that didn't include beating people up. An hour? She came at one? Had they been at the diner for that long? 

As Jason and Dick walked back to the apartment he almost asked the question he had been thinking about earlier but instead pushed it out of his head. He would worry about it later

Chapter Text

THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES MILDLY-GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF RAPE IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ THE RAPE-Y PARTS JUST TAKE IT AS JASON HAS FLASHBACKS AND SKIP TO THE PART AFTER THE DIVIDING LINE - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

 Jason's P.O.V

The fire had been intentional.

The explosion not so much.

It was the storage house as a rival gang that had been impeding on Jason's territory, so he decided to eliminate the guards (Eliminate meaning breaking a few bones and sending them running back to their masters with a message) and then set their entire storage facility ablaze, how was he supposed to know the fuckers had explosives stored inside. He wasn't sure exactly how much produce he had burned but by the smell in the air, he could tell it had been a lot. This was one of the moments he was grateful for the filter in his mask, he was certain they had been selling laced drugs and didn't want to deal with any potential effects of aerosolized drugs. Luckily this was a fairly abandoned area and there was no breeze tonight so there wasn't a significant chance of a person being accidentally dosed with aerosolized narcotics. 

Red hood was standing on a rooftop watching the entire place burn. He could hear some sirens in the distance, fire trucks would be here with in the next three minutes. By then everything inside would be burned up and the building would be beyond repair. He was turning to walk away when he saw somebody on the road watching the fire, they were close enough that they would get burned or dosed if they weren't extremely careful.

"Hey dumbass, you really should get going" He growled with fake aggression as he landed behind the man. After not getting a response he put a heavy hand on the guy's shoulder "You're going to get bu..." Jason stopped dead middle sentence as the man turned around.

It was a middle-aged man, forties or so. He was very tan, his hair was heavily curled and dark blonde, his eyes were green. There was a scar under his left eyebrow, he looked confused. If Jason had been in his right mind he would have been concerned that the man had been drugged (by the aerosolized drugs) or that some debris from the explosion had hit him in the head and he was concussed. But Jason wasn't in his right mind, he yanked his arm back as fast as he could. His momentum threw him backwards and he stumbled. His breathing was picking up and he couldn't hear the sirens anymore over the sound of the blood in his ears. Images of THAT MAN flashed in front of his eyes. Logically he knew that man wasn't the man who stood in front of him, That man would have been closer to sixty these days, not forty and his hair was one or two shades lighter than this guy's dirty blonde, and his scar was under his right eyebrow, not his left.  But logic went out the window as panic flushed over him. 

The police would be here in less than a minute they could handle whoever this guy was. Jason needed to get out of here before this got any worse. He grappled up to a roof that was far enough away that the police wouldn't see him, but it was still close enough that he would feel the heat on his skin. As he landed he threw his Jacket and hood across the roof in a blind panic feeling claustrophobic. His panic and momentum landed him on his forearms and knees half curled into a ball. He was gasping for breath through the feeling of a ghost hand on his neck. The sensory flashbacks had started and they were worse than anything he had felt in the last several years. At least a thousand times worse than the short episode he had about a month prior. 

He knew logically that wasn't HIM, he knew logically that there was no hand on his throat and he could breathe, he knew logically he was alone on the roof perfectly safe. But what he knew logically didn't matter, his mind was falling quickly into a state of blind panic and he couldn't breathe. He felt hands all over him, they were making him even more claustrophobic. He felt like he was suffocating. He was completely frozen. He was filled with all the same terror he had been filled with when it happened for the first time, twelve years ago. He feels like he's six again and that man is pushing him down onto a bed face first. He's ripping off his clothes, he's touching him. Holding him by the throat so he can't scream but never hard enough to make him pass out.

Jason manages to choaked in a breath and then another. He needed to get off this roof immediately. He wasn't sure how long he had been there but he knew these were only going to get worse and with the building fire put out an unshakable chill crept into his bones. He forced himself to move and click a button on his earpiece. He was glad that he hadn't had it on or everyone would have been able to hear his choked cries. 

"Oracle" the voice on the other end of the line was serious and short. She had taken after her mentor in that manor. 

"Secure line" He forced himself to speak as normally as he could. Which seemed like a monumentally easier task than the task of not whining as he felt the ghost hands creeping under his jeans. "Agent A. NOBODY. ELSE."

He heard static on his line and then it clicked over to another line "Secure line, Red Hood and Agent A, Oracle out" WIth that he heard her click out of the lines. He tried to push himself out of the curled position only to feel his muscles becoming more and more unwilling to move. The feeling of the hands was becoming more and more solid, he was losing reality and needed to get out of there before he lost it completely. 

"Master Hood, What seems to be the problem?" It occurred to Red Hood that the other man could hear his crying. 

"Episode" Jason forced himself to say. Jason had always been the closest to Alfred of any of the kids who had come through Bruce's home when he was Robin he was too stubborn to admit he had PTSD from the times he had been raped and would shut down if anyone told him he was having flashbacks. So Alfred and he had started referring to them as episodes. If Alfred called them episodes Jason would let him help, they would end up in the kitchen drinking hot chocolate and waiting it out. Even after Jason died and came back he was still the closest to Alfred out of all the kids Bruce had and he still occasionally made the call to the old man, No matter how bad his relationship with Bruce was him and the old butler still found themselves in the kitchen at whatever hour of the morning riding out the memories. He didn't do it as much anymore and only called when his episodes were really bad. He hadn't had a bad episode in almost two years and he couldn't ever remember having an episode this bad. 

The feeling on the hand on his throat came back with a new intensity and he couldn't breathe again. He wanted to scratch at his neck and make it go away but he couldn't move.  He balled his fists up and whimpered feeling the phantom hand running up the inside of his thigh. He was glad the uniform pants would hide any evidence because as much as he hated it his body felt the hands as if they were there and it reacted as if he was being touched. He squeezed his eyes closed and let out another soft whimper.

"Can't make it to home base, need retrieval" he managed to say in the most pathetic voice he had ever heard. "628 Crimson street"

There was some movement on the other side of the line "Understood, ETA 20 minutes, you will need to get off the roof and down to the street" 

Normally Jason had a problem with the butler playing retrieval because he was afraid of him getting hurt. But this was a fairly safe part of town and there would be almost nobody out because of the explosion so he didn't worry too much. Not that he could stress about it with his mind so completely absorbed. That man's voice ringed in his ears, told him he was a good boy, brushed unruly hair out of his eyes. 

He needed to focus. It would take Alfred twenty minutes to get to the scene, Jason needed to get off the roof and down to the street to be picked up. He tried to remember his breathing lessons from when he was a robin. Four seconds in, hold for three, four seconds out, hold for one, repeat.  He did this for almost the entire twenty minutes, each time he breathed in he fought against the feeling of a hand on his throat. He had to remind himself there was nobody there, nobody restricting his breathing. The feelings faded for a minute and he knew if he didn't take that opportunity he wouldn't get another one. So he pushed himself up onto his feet retrieving his helmet and jacket and grappling down to the floor. He managed to hit the floor just as Alfred was pulling up in a black car with a large bat-symbol on the side, which was the only thing that marked it as a Bat car.  

He quickly got in throwing his stuff in the back seat and sitting on the passenger side. He drew his knees up and buried his face into them, the feelings suddenly came crashing back down. His breathing spiked as he felt the hands-on him again, he felt them at his waist. sliding down his hips and up his thighs. He let out a pathetic whine. Jason was breathing so fast it physically hurt, his head was spinning. About ten minutes into the drive he felt a ghost hand grab his crotch and his stomach completely flipped.

With his hands still covering his head, he spoke with about as much conviction as he could manage "Pull over, I'm gonna be sick." He sounded convincing enough because instead of trying to convince him to just make it back to the manor the car was immediately pulled over to the side of the road along a grassy area. Jason pushed the door open stumbling into the grass, his stomach convulsed painfully and he heaved into the grass. Several painful dry heaves escaped his lips and then thick vomit spilt forth from his lips and splattered on the grass. he whimpered and whined wanting to curl in on himself but he felt the hands still on stroaking him, he felt his body reacting to this any it makes his tomach convulse again. He threw up alomst completely acid and bile this time, he felt like he would faint. Good, he needed to faint, or die, or SOMETHING to just make this stop. A hand touched his shoulder, a real hand. He wanted to flinch away but he didn't have the strength. He had ended up on a position on his knees holding his stomach and curled unto himself as much as he could.

"If you think you are done we should get you back in the car and to the cave" It was Alfred touching his shoulder softly and speaking in a low calming voice. Jason just whined, he didn't know if he had the ability to move at this point. He barely had the ability to hold himse;f up in the position he was in now.

"I'm trying" he whispered. Shifting uncomfortably at the phantom hands touching under his uniform. They felt as real as Alfreds. They were all large warn and rough and sticjy. They all made hin want to die. He squeezed his legs closed and held himself a little tighter. If Jason didn't get up he knew Alfred would call bruce and he wasn't in the mood to deal with the bat while he was in the middle of an episode. 

He once again forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the car. If anyone had been out there to see him it would have been a pathetic sight. He pulled his legs back his chest shaking. He wanted this to stop, he didn't care what stopped it but it needed to happen. Now.  the rest of the ride to the manor was fast but by the time they got there, Jason was almost completely detached from reality. 

Jason whimpered as he felt a phantom hand stroke his cock. He could hear the old AC unit, the sounds of crime alley buzzing in the background, the sounds of the man grunting and moaning, the pain of someone being inside him. He tried to focus on the noise, on the AC unit humming loudly. The room was stuffy and dingy. It smelled like mould and old wallpaper. There was a single pillow under his head, a hand on the back of his head forcing it to stay buried. It covered his mouth and lips and he felt like he was suffocating. He prayed he would suffocate jsut ot make this stop. He didn't want ot feel it anymore. He was just a kid, he didn't deserve this, he didn't want this. It hurt so much, he could smell blood and wondered if it as his own. 

"Master Jason!" Jason blinked and looked up. The dingy apartment room gave way to the Batcave and Alfred was crouched down in front of him. He was still curled into himself in the passenger seat on the car. He didn't want to move, afraid to feel that pain he knew would come. He knew he didn't have a choice though and slowly straightened out his legs standing up. A yelp escaped him and he would have crumpled to the ground if it hadn't been for Alfred catching him. Everything below his waist hurt like crazy even though it was just a memory, he could still feel the blood even though he knew it wasn't there.

He let Alfred guide him to the kitchen and set him on a barstool. Five minutes later, Jason, had a glass of hot chocolate and Alfred had coffee sitting across from him. This is how it always was when Jason had episodes, Alfred wouldn't force him to talk until he wanted to. They would just sit in silence, it was a comfortable silence. 

Jason shifted uncomfortably. His clothes felt tight, he felt disgusting, the phantom hands were still grabbing and stroking and touching him. They were getting worse and worse by the minute. Jason squeezed his eyes closed and took a small drink trying to ground himself. It was sweet and warm and tasted amazing. Jason just tried to breath through the feelings letting them happen but he could help but whine and yelp as the ghost hands violated him and the phantom pain coursed through his bones. 

"ill be right back" he whispered after a while and stood up trying to pretend he wasn't in pain. This was another common thing that happened when Jason was either too prideful or too sensitive to be seen in pain he would leave the kitchen and the coco for isolation in his room. Alfred usually waited for him to reemerge and if he hadn't in two hours Alfred would pop in usually to find he had stressed himself to the point of fainting. Jason was about halfway to the room when he started to lose reality again. He had barely closed the door when the feeling of all the phantom hands suddenly stopped and was replaced by something much worse. Instead of the hands of all the people who had violated him he felt THAT MAN standing behind him. 

He looked around breathing heavy. He was in those old apartments over crime alley, peeling yellow wallpaper and mould growing in the corners. That man grabbed him from behind, he tried to fight back but he was too small. Too young. The man had one hand on his neck holding it tightly and the other hand down the form of Jason's shorts. Jason was breathign too hard, tears streamed down his face. He felt sick and wanted to fight back. The man leaned down and whispered in his ear "I was going to be gentle but since you decided to fight me earlier I'm going to have to punish you." He kissed the side of Jason's neck and Jason bit his lip resisting the urge to gag, it would make it worse. He felt that man unbutton his jeans and drop them to the floor, and then his underwear. He squeezed his eyse closed and pretneded it wasn't happening. That man was grinding against his ass while he jerked him off. Jason let out a sound he couldn't tell if it was a moan or a cry because he didn't want it to be happening but it still undeniably felt good. 

He felt a tightness in his stomach, everything about this was wrong. he was just a kid, he was ten, this shouldn't be happening. He didn't have time to try and rationalize anythign else because he heard the click of a bottle opening and his heart dropped. NO NO NO NO NO he wanted to cream it but his mouth wasn't cooperating. He was panicing and completely unable to do anythign about it. He was frozen. Without warning he felt the older man push into him without prepairing him in any way, fire riped through Jason's legs and stomach, and entire body. He shrieked loudly and he could feel blood trickling down his thighs, the whole world was going black. He was thankful for the call of unconsciousness.  

Jason wasn't sure when he passed out or how long he had been down, but he woke up to the feeling of a cold rag being placed on the back on his neck. He let out a small groan soaking in the coolness of the iten before slowly opening his eyes. He was on his floor, half leaning against his bed, Alfred was in front of him. He felt exhausted, in pain, and burning up. He would have preferred waking up after having his ass been kicked by some baddy, it probably would have hurt less.   

"Master Jason, good to see you awake. I was beginning to worry." Alfred's voice was calm but Jason knew there was a concern behind the British accent. He just closed his eyes again, he didn't have an ounce of strength left in his body. He felt like he'd been awake for three days straight and someone had tied anvils to all his limbs. No strength, no energy. 

"Hot" he whispered. He was burning up, the room seemed like it was close to a hundred degrees. Sweat covered his skin and he could feel drips running down his back between his shoulders. Adding to the general uncomfortable agony that he was in.

"I would expect so, your episode seems to have triggered a psychogenic stress fever" Alfred informed him gently. Well, alteast that explained why he had a cold towel on him. "I would have removed your armour but I did not want to startle you." Jason groaned again trying to form intelligent words. His brain was just fog and static, he would feel uncomfurtable with the armour off but he felt disgusting and heavy with it on. He decided that having it off would be the better option but he couldn't seem to find the words to say it. He learned forward slightly resting his head on his knees, his arms still hung lazily at his sides.  

"Off" he whispered. Great so he was down to monosyllabic sentences. He felt Alfred touch the side of his uniform where the zipper to his kevlar was, he wanted to flinch but now he didn't have the strength. 

"Can you sit up?" Alfred asked. Jason didn't think he could so he shook his head softly. Ever that tiny action felt like it took a significant amount of effort. The older man's arm wrapped under his arms and helped him sit up so that he could remove the shirt. As soon as the shirt was off Alfred let him lay his head back on his knees and replaced the cold rag on his neck as well as adding one between his shoulders. He was grateful for them. He was grateful for the old butler. 

"Thanks" he whispered. He was looking down at the floor through his knees. Tears had started to run down his cheeks. He was so fucking tired and weak. Jason was too afraid to move even if he had the strength because he was concerned he would start the feelings back up again. So they sat in silence and whenever they started to get warm Alfred would take the rags and dip them in cold water and replace them. It was over an hour of silence, Jason was trying to think of anything that wasn't the pain radiating in his stomach and down his legs. He didn't want the feelings to start again, he had stopped crying. It took too much energy to even form tears and he was so damn tired.

"Master Jason, If I may be as bold as to say, It has been a long while since you have had an episode"

Jason knew that. He knew it had been well over a year since his last major episode "Dick...old memories" he whispered. His voice was horse and rough from everything but his words were getting longer and more sentence like. "on accident" He felt awful for saying that, Dick needed his help. These memories would need to be pushed to that back till he could handle them because right now wasn't the right time. He shouldn't be crying over shit that happened years ago when there was somebody, his brother, who was suffering from something that happened not even six months ago. 

"Perhaps you should tell master Dick what happened to you" he offered

"already knows" Jason was confused as to where this was going. Dick knew he had been sexually assaulted when he was young, what good would remind him of that fact do?

"Master Dick knows the basics, however, you are the only other person in this family who knows how it feels to have that happen. You know how alone and scared you felt when it happened to you, he may have been older but he is still going to feel that same emptiness" Alfred spoke and it almost sounded like it was from experience. Jason was too tired and reluctant to delve into any kind of deep thoughts about the matter. He hadn't even thought about that. He remembered how empty and disgusting he felt, how it almost drove him to kill himself. How he couldn't look in the mirror and couldn't avoid the evil voice in his mind. He hadn't even thought about how Dick might have been feeling the same thing. They had been so busy trying to fix Dick they hadn't been trying to help him. They sat there in silence again as thoughts began to filter into his head and a wave of nausea washed over him. 

He tried to breathe through it as thick hot saliva filled his mouth and dripped down his chin from his slightly parted lips. Alfred seemed to notice and moved a small trashcan infront of him, it already had vomit in it. Had be been throwing up earlier, durring his flashbacks? While he was passed out? He couldn't remember. His stomach seemed to take the trashcan as an invitation and he hunched forward vomiting. He wasn't sick which meant that the stupid flashbacks had caused enough stress on his body to make him both nauseous and feverish. He hated it. 

"Tired" he whispered when he was done. He wanted to get on the bed and was sure he couldn't do it on his own. Jason pushed himself out of his relatively comfortable position, he felt Alfred's arm wrap under his own to help support him and he agonizingly made it up onto the bed. He was breathing heavy enough to have jsut ran a marathon rather than just moved three feet. His head spun and he was fading out of conciousness. He felt the wet ranges get placed on his neck lower back and between his shoulders. He would wake up in a few hours hopefully feeling better and he would head home, he would talk to Dick like Alfred suggested, but he now he was asleep.

Chapter Text

Jason woke up a little while later, it was still dark outside. He glanced lazily at the clock 5:20 am. He needed to get back to the apartment soon so that he could take over the suicide watch while Timm who was watching Dick overnight, went to work. He still felt like shit. He didn't feel like he was burning up anymore but the overwhelming exhaustion and disgusting feeling still swam over him. He was still laying on his stomach but Alfred hand left and taken the damp washcloths with him. Jason took several minutes to force his arms to push himself into a sitting position, by the time he was sitting his heart was beating hard enough to hear it in his ears. He was so damn tired. Standing up was harder than sitting up. In getting up he stumbled tripping against the waste bin, it had been washed and left by his bed. Probably in case, he woke up vomiting again, he was glad he didn't.

He took several minutes to stand still with a hand splayed out against the wall trying to gain his balance. He glanced passingly at the clock again, it was 5:30. It had taken him ten minutes to simply stand up off the bed. He stumbled while he walked but managed to make his way to the shower. His entire body was covered in sweat and he felt filthy. The warm water brought some energy back to him but he still kept a hand against the wall afraid of falling. He shifted his weight and remnants of the phantom pain from the previous night shot through him, it wasn't much but it was enough to warrant a low groan. He forced himself to scrub gently despite the fact he wanted to scrub till the felt clean but he knew doing that would be impossible and would just end in blood. 

It was six when he got out. He felt like his body was playing on half speed, all his reactions and thoughts were dragged through molasses and he was so tired. He wondered downstairs running into Bruce and Damian in the kitchen, both tried to say something to him. He didn't give them any acknowledgement. Alfred drove Jason back to his apartment, neither of them spoke on the drive. Jason forced himself to stay awake despite the overbearing exhaustion. He wondered how much of the exhaustion was physical and how much of it was an emotional response from the previous night. It was rounding Six-thirty when he got back to his apartment. 

"I was starting to think you wouldn't get here in ti- You look like shit" Tim shifted from bitching at him while stuffing his briefcase full of papers to looking at him with a curious raised eye. Jason was sure he did, his hair was tussled since he hadn't done it that morning, he more than likely had bags under his eyes, he was sure his face was still puffy from having cried so much the previous night, and he was holding himself in a way that he normally didn't (to try and avoid the phantom pain remnants). His bag with all his equipment wasn't normally heavy but it pulled on his shoulders and felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. 

"Rough night" he growled "crashed the manor, under the radar" Tim seemed to since that was all he was going to keep because he turned back around to his briefcase. 

"Dicks still asleep he had pretty bad nightmares, but otherwise uneventful." He gave Jason the quick rundown and Jason couldn't help but appreciate the shortness of the entire thing. As soon as Tim was gone he dropped his bag on the floor, something that was completely against his clean freak nature, and walked to Dicks room. He hesitated but crawled into bed next to his older brother. He remembered cuddling up to Dick when he was young and would have nightmares, they only had a two-year difference but Dick had been significantly taller than him back then. He would hold him close and cuddle him till he felt better, now Dick only had a few inches on Jason and Jason couldn't help but wish to be back in those old days. Dick didn't even stir at Jason laying down and he couldn't help but wonder how bad the nightmares had been.

Did Dick ever feel like this? Did he get this overwhelming exhausted feeling that he couldn't shake? The feeling where his limbs were so heavy someone might have replaced the bones with lead and he couldn't find the strength to move? The feeling where even changing position was such a monumental energy-consuming task that he might pass out again? He wondered how bad Dicks sensory flashbacks were, Did they cause him pain? Did his body betray him and react to the touch? Did the feelings seem so real that he couldn't tell the difference between them and an actual person touching him? Did he lose chunks of reality and spiral back into moments where it was all happening again? Did his body play through the sensory experience of the rape over and over again like a crappy song on repeat until he was in a state of complete detachment and dissociation?

He stopped thinking, it was draining too much energy too fast. It made him dizzy and tired. He had sure he was in a position so that he wasn't touching Dick, incase the boy woke up and got startled by someone touching him when he went asleep alone, and he fell asleep again. 

 "No, stop, get off me" He screamed trying to fight the older man who was holding him down. He thrashed and kicked but his legs were too short to make contact and any screaming was lost in the noises of crime alley. The man had offered him food in exchange for a 'favour' and Jason had been stupid and hungry enough to accept this deal without even asking what the favour might be. He screamed again and kicked forward feeling his foot finally come in contact with the guy's chest. 

The older man didn't seem to relent though, as if Jasons kick had been no more painful than a butterfly landing on him. "You're gonna pay for that" He growled and suddenly Jason's will to fight suddenly turned to icy terror and he went deal still

 Jason woke up to someone's arm wrapped around him tightly, he gasped pushing whoever was over him off and scrambling away. He looked at the person who was in the room with him. He couldn’t recognize them, who the fuck was they? What the fuck were they doing in his room? Why were they holding him like that? He tried to process everything. The person came to him and he scrambled back again, misjudging the size of the bed he stumbled at the edge of the bed, the person grabbed him and pulled him back onto the bed. “Calm down, it's just me” The person spoke, he recognized the voice. He couldn’t place it but it was a safe voice, a trustable person. roughly, his voice breaking. “Yeah I’m seeing you” Tears burned at his eyes and he felt guilty as hell, Dick shouldn’t be dealing with Jason's nightmares especially if he had been having nightmares all night like Tim said he had. The heavy exhaustion from earlier settled back in his body and he looked down. 

"Can I hug you?" DIck asked and Jason just nodded, he had no strength in his body to do anything else. DIcks hugs were always strong and warm and made Jason feel like he was twelve again. He leaned heavily on him and let his eyes flutter closed. He was so tired. He had been asleep for nine hours and was still exhausted. This was stupid, Jason should be strong. He should be able to push back these emotions, he should ask DIck about his nightmares, make sure he was okay. As a soft sob escaped his lips is was obvious that that wasn't going to happen. DIck hugged him tighter and he cried harder, all the emotions he had been pinning up since Dick had got there burst forward and he didn't have the strength to stop himself. He should be the one comforting Dick, not the having a breakdown for the second time on the same day.  

He wasn't sure how exactly, but the two of them ended up laying back down. Jason had his legs drawn to his chest and his face buried in Dick's shirt sobbing softly while Dick petted his hair. The exhaustion and overwhelming heavy feeling that had been growing in him since seeing that man all seemed to be draining off of him in small amounts with every tear that ran down his cheek. 

He didn't know why or how but he had the feeling that this was a major turning point. He just hoped it meant he would be able to help Dick without losing his own damn mind. Because if they continued at the rate they were going now he would lose his mind before Dick was better. 

Chapter Text

Dinah (Black Canary) P.O.V

When nobody answered the door Dinah just let herself in. They had given her a temporary key once when she had come over for an emergency session, after an episode of intense suicidal ideation. She was almost certain as soon as the sessions stopped she would either find the key 'went missing' or the locks changed, she respected that. She didn't get a bad feeling coming into the apartment but she was still on edge, it was silent and dark still. They had known she was coming, she had confirmed that appointment with Dick the previous afternoon. She walked through the house quietly, Red Hoods bag was sitting on the floor which made her slightly concerned, soon she found her way to the bedroom. The door was cracked open and the light was on, being as quiet as she could she pushed open the door. The sight that met her was simultaneously sad and adorable. 

Dick was laying on his side, Jason was laying with his knees against his chest in a small ball cuddled as close to Dick as possible. His knees were against Dicks's stomach and his face was against Dicks's chest. Dick had his legs tucked up around Jason's small form as best as he could and had an arm draped over the younger man.  They were both peacefully asleep by the look of the room she assumed it had been a bad night for one or both of them. The bed had been thrown on the floor along with most of the sheets and a lamp had been knocked off the nightstand. She gently knocked on the door and Dick stirred a little looking up at her. After a second of looking at her, he pushed himself into a sitting position which woke up Jason. "Dinah?" He mumbled sleepily "iz it already one?" His voice was thick with sleep, Jason hadn't spoken yet and was still looking pretty blankly at the world. 

"Yeah" She laughed a little, it was so unlike them to sleep in late "I can come back later if you want" 

"Nu nu juzt gimme a minute" He yawned and stretched into a position that would have probably been downright painful to almost anyone except him. She just shook her head and smiled at them 

"Okay I'll be in the living room"

 Both the boys came in the living room a few minutes later, they were standing almost shoulder to shoulder and Jason still looked half asleep. Him looking so out of it plus the bag she had found on the floor and the mess in the room made her curious just what had happened last night. "Is Jason leaving?" She asked it had been a tradition for Jason and everyone else to leave so they could have a private session. She was honestly expecting a snide remark from Jason but instead, it was Dick who spoke. 

"No, I want him to join." That had caught her by surprise, normally doing therapy sessions in groups wasn't her style. But she hadn't heard Dick say anything with that amount of conviction and confidence they entire time they had been doing sessions. She wasn't about to mess with progress and let them both sit down. At least she might get some answers about the position she found them in.

Jason P.O.V

"So tell me what happened last night, Tim told me you locked yourself in a room," Dinah asked, she was talking to Dick. Tim hadn't told Jason about this, maybe he had seen how tired he looked that morning and decided that it wasn't that big a deal. Or he was in a rush because Jason came back late and it slipped his mind. Dick looked uncomfortable. 

"Well" DIck started, all the confidence he had in his voice when he was convincing Jason to stay was suddenly gone. "I didn't exactly... it wasn't like that" He was fidgeting with his hands and dodging eye contact, two things that were very out of his personality.

"It wasn't?" Dinah asked raising an eyebrow, Jason felt uncomfortable and shifted closer to DIck. He was curious about the story "How about you tell me the entire story?"

"I" DIck started and Jason wasn't really sure what to do with himself, he looked down at the floor just listening. "Was watching TV and a commercial came on, one of the people had HER name" Dick paused. Jason could hear a shaky sigh and was filled with rage that he still hadn't been able to find and kill that bitch yet. "I freaked out, I went to the room, I just wanted to be alone" each word his voice lost confidence. 

Jason could easily imagine DIck on the verge of a panic attack freaking out and locking himself in a quiet room. He could imagine Tim freaking out when he wouldn't come out, overreacting and texting Dinah. 

"Did you do anything?" Dinah asked and Jason could feel Dick tense up beside him. 

"No" he whispered. Dinah nodded her head 

"and after that?"

"I unlocked the door before I fell asleep. I had nightmares almost all night one time when I woke up Jason was in bed with me. He was having nightmares as well." Dick looked down and Jason followed his eyes to the floor. A spot just under the edge of a rug where the floor was stained slightly darker from blood a long time ago. 

"Jason, why were you having nightmares?" Jason was startled to hear Dinah talking directly to him. He wanted to shoot off some smart remark about how he wasn't the one getting therapy here but then he remembered what Alfred had told him. Dick needed to know he wasn't alone, other people had gone through similar trauma and could survive. Jason had gone through the same trauma and knew how it felt. He pushed his pride and defences down and met her eyes waveringly. 

"I saw a man" he whispered "he looked like the man who" his voice stopped and he looked away. Both of them were looking at him now. Dick knew the basics but Dinah she only knew that SOMETHING had happened to him, she didn't know what it was. She didn't know he had been raped. He couldn't even form his lips around the words.

"The man who what, Jason?" She edged and Jason tensed up. Dick reached down and grabbed his hand starling him slightly but he didn't pull away. He just squeezed his hand and sighed 

"The man who" He focused on keeping his breathing normal, "the man who" He didn't think he could say it. Dicks had tightened around his own and he looked in the blue eyes trying to find any amount of confidence. He was just so damn tired. "HIM," he said the word in exact mimicry of the way Dick had said HER and hoped that Dinah understood the message. Apparently, some deity was looking down on him because she nodded and looked at both of them. Jason couldn't meet her eyes, he felt like he had been cut open and laid out for investigation. 

"Okay I'm going to try something here," She said and looked at the both of them. Jason did not like that look at all. "DIck, When you think of the event what is the first emotion you feel, give me just two words?"

"Weak and dirty" Dick whispered 

"Okay, now Jason. Two words, when you think of it happening what is the first emotion you feel?"

"Helpless and Dirty" Jason mumbled and squeezed Dicks hand. He could see what she was doing. it reminded him of what Alfred had said, was he thinking the same thing?

"Both of you said dirty, Jason explains the dirty feeling to me" Okay she was definitely trying to get them to realize that they had similar answers, she was definitely doing something similar to what Alfred had talked about the previous night. 

 "It's like a layer of grime settled on my skin and sunk all the way to my soul. Unwashable, uncleanable, filth" He hadn't ever directly admitted that before and it made feelings churn in his chest that he couldn't identify. 

"Now DIck"

"feels like she left a stain all over my skin, everywhere she touched, and I can feel it, and its feels disgusting but can't wash it away" Dick muttered, his voice was wavering pretty heavily. It hurt like hell to listen to Dick say the same things he was feeling. 

DICKS P.O.V

"OKay" Dinah spoke again. Dick originally wasn't sure what she had been intending when she changed to this method of therapy but as he listened to Jason talk. Saying exactly what was on Dicks mind he began to see what she was getting at. "Dick, you blamed yourself, yes?"

He nodded squeezing Jaosns hand, Jason squeezed back "Jason what about you" Jason also nodded. "Dick, why do you blame yourself"

DIck flinched from the question "SHe said she could help me, I should have known I couldn't trust her. I should have been able to fight her off" His voice broke and he put a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying. 

"Jason"

"He said he would give me food" Jason whispered "I knew I couldn't trust him, I should have tried to fight him" Dick suddenly felt a protective shot go threw him

"It wasn't your fault, you were a kid you couldn't have fought him" He snapped at Jason who snapped right back

"You were literally in shock, you couldn't have fought her, it couldn't have been your fault"

They were both glaring at each other. Dick was furious that Jason would blame himself for what had happened to him, he was a child. He did, however, see Jason's point of view, he had been in shock, but still. He should have been able to defend himself. She was smaller than him and he could have easily overpowered her if he hadn't been so weak.

"STOP" It was Jason who demanded. It caused DIck to just slightly, The green in Jason's eyes were swimming. "Get that look off your fucking face, I know what you are thinking." He was yelling. Dick wasn't sure if it apprehension or curiosity that made him sink back and let his brother talk. Dinah seemed unconcerned because she didn't even try to talk and when Dick shot her a glance she hadn't even moved or stirred from her seat. She was just watching.

"I know you don't believe me. You never believe me. You think no matter what you could have, you should have stopped her. But you couldn't, just get that through your thick fucking skull. YOU COULDN'T." It hurt DIck to hear those words even though he knew they were true, he didn't try to defend himself, he just let Jason continue talking.

"Ever since it happened you've felt scared, and lost, and isolated. Like there is a blackness covering your soul and no matter how many people are around you feel alone. Everything feels disconnected and you feel so unbelievably exhausted and everything reminds you of HI-HER. You feel like there is nobody in the entire universe who can help you, like your all by yourself. Like their is nobody who understands what happened, nobody who understands the pure agony of waking up and looking in the mirror. To be scared by the brokenness of your reflection, to be disgusted by your entire body, to hear that voice inside your head that tells you that you are dirty and broken and worthless, that voice that tells you to die. You think nobody understands so is there really even a point in trying to explain it. In trying to tell anyone because all they will feel is pity."

Jason s voice cracks and he was crying. Dick had gone stark white and still. If he hadn't known better he would have mistaken Jasons for a mind reader, going into his head and repeating his very thoughts back to him. But Jason wasn't a mind reader and Jason wasn't saying Dick's thoughts. Jason was speaking his own thoughts and feelings, he was telling DIck that everything DIck had been feeling Jason had also felt at one point. DIck opened his mouth to say something. He wanted to say something, anything. He could feel something shift inside his soul, something broke and changed inside him. Somehow, even just for a minute, that darkness and loneliness seemed to crack and lessen. It was twisted and sad but somehow knowing Jason had been through it, that he understood everything made Dick feel less scared and lost.

Jason started talking again quietly "Dick, I know how much it hurts. God damn it, I KNOW. I've been a bad brother, I've been trying so hard to just fix you that I hadn't, I-I hadn't been helping you." 

Nobody spoke in the room for several long minutes. Dick played every word Jason said in his mind, every one of them resonated with the exact thoughts DIck had been thinking since it happened. It broke his heart at the same time it made him feel less isolated and very angry. "DIck, is there something you want to say?" It was Dinah, he had all but forgotten that she was there. There was so much he wanted to say, there was so much he needed to express but he couldn't find the words. 

"I...Jason...I" Jason was looking away from him, he had a hand covering his face and DIck cold hear quiet sniffles. 

"I want to lower the suicide watch" Jason whispered surprising DIck and apparently Dinah since she shifted and looked at him.

"What do you propose?" SHe asked

"Starting next week, check-in by text with someone once an hour, once a daily check-in with a person to make sure there is no self-harm" Dick was surprised, he wasn't sure what had prompted this and he wasn't complaining. It was better than being under constant vigil. 

They discussed it a while and ended up agreeing on the arrangement. After Dinah left it was just Jason and IDck sitting on the couch.  

"Jason, can I ask you something?" DIck asked quietly 

"If it's about what i said" Jason countered "I meant all of it, I know how you feel. I should have expressed that more from the beginning. I know how it hurts and you need to know you are not alone and I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that."

DIck didn't know how to respond. He just pulled Jason into a tight hug. This hadn't magically transformed anything. The suicidal thoughts, the heavy sadness, the fear, it hadn't all just magically gone away but somehow DIck knew he would be okay. 

Chapter Text

Jason's P.O.V

"STOP" Jason snapped at DIck, anger was filling his body. Dick had a look on his face, the look he got when he was overthinking everythign. He was probably trying to rationalize to himself how it was his fault.  "Get that look off your fucking face, I know what you are thinking." He hadn't intended to be screaming but rage leaked out of his words and turned their volume up. Rage at Dick, Rage at himself, Rage at that woman, just rage at everything. 

"I know you don't believe me. You never believe me. You think no matter what you could have, you should have stopped her. But you couldn't, just get that through your thick fucking skull. YOU COULDN'T."Nobody was stopping his rant so he continued. He knew he should stop but there was somethign wasn't letting him. 

"Ever since it happened you've felt scared, and lost, and isolated. Like there is a blackness covering your soul and no matter how many people are around you feel alone. Everything feels disconnected and you feel so unbelievably exhausted and everything reminds you of HI-HER. You feel like there is nobody in the entire universe who can help you, like your all by yourself. Like there is nobody who understands what happened, nobody who understands the pure agony of waking up and looking in the mirror. To be scared by the brokenness of your reflection, to be disgusted by your entire body, to hear that voice inside your head that tells you that you are dirty and broken and worthless, that voice that tells you to die. You think nobody understands so is there really even a point in trying to explain it. In trying to tell anyone because all they will feel is pity."

His voice cracks and he ignored the coldness of tears on his cheeke. Dick had gone pale and still and Jason was ure that he was listening. He almost wanted to stop and let that sit but there was still a fire burning and it wouldn't go uot till he said this"Dick, I know how much it hurts. God damn it, I KNOW. I've been a bad brother, I've been trying so hard to just fix you that I hadn't, I-I hadn't been helping you." the rage burnt out and was replaced with a sudden exposedness. He tried to control his breathing, he pulled his knees up and pulled his hand out of DIcks. THe room was silent and for once Jason idn't appreciate the silence. It was palitable and heavy. Dick had a contimplative look on his face but still wore his shocked pale expression. That probably wasn't what Alfred had intended when he told Jason to express to Dick that he understood how he felt. He just hoped it worked because it left him feeling truely gutted. 

 "DIck, is there something you want to say?" Dihan spoke and Jason just fucking wished she could read the room and elave. How had he een talked into joining this?

"I...Jason...I"Dick stuttered dumbly and Jason turned away from him. He brought a hand over his face trying to stop the tears that were falling but he couldn't seem to convense them to stop flowing. 

"I want to lower the suicide watch" Jason growled. He had been thinking about it for a while. Dick would do better without people watching him 24/7

"What do you propose?" SHe asked

"Starting next week, check-in by text with someone once an hour, once a daily check-in with a person to make sure there is no self-harm" He felt like they were reasonable conditions, nobody seemed to object. 

Dinah FINALLY fucking left. 

"Jason, can I ask you something?" DIck was looking over at him like a lost puppy. It made Jason feel even more xposed 

"If it's about what i said I meant all of it, I know how you feel. I should have expressed that more from the beginning. I know how it hurts and you need to know you are not alone and I'm sorry it took me so long to notice that." He snapped but there was no agression behind it. He jsut hoped Dick got the message loud and clear. 

HE. WAS. NOT. ALONE

Jason had been in his shoes before and he would always be ther fo him

He was suprised when Dick pulled him into a hug but made no effort to fight him .

Chapter Text

DICKS P.O.V

Dick stood looking at he mirror, his hands were on the edges of the bathroom cabinet supporting his weight. He had been looking in the mirror for several long minutes. What exactly had just happened, he wasn't really sure. He had somehow talked Jason into joining him in therapy, which he was only able to do because Jasons defenses were down from a night of panic attacks and nightmares. During that session not only had Jason confessed to having been rapes, which was something Dick had already known to a minor extent. But, he explained all the emotions DIck had been holding in, the ones he hadn't told anyone because he hadn't found the right words. Jason had somehow manged to speak them straight form Dicks raw emotions and thoughts into full sentences that resonated with him. Jason had felt the same way, the EXACT same way as Dick was feeling. Jason had survived. Dick would survive. Dick blamed himself, Jason had blamed himself. Was it normal for victims to blame themselves even when it wasn't their fault?

But it was your fault, you could have overpowered her. The voice in Dick head hissed and for the first time instead of feeling the loathing that it normally brought he just felt anger. Jason had been too young to fight his rapist so clearly it wasn't Jason's fault. As Jason had pointed out, Dick was in shock when ti happened there was no way he could have fought her. There was no way it could have been his fault. That fucking voice was wrong, it had been wrong this entire time. If it had been wrong about blaming Dick for his rape maybe it had been wrong about other things as well. He started thinking about all the things the voice had been telling him. 

weak, it had said constantly. Dick knew logically he wasn't weak, at that moment he was weak because he was in shock. At that moment he had been too weak to stop her. But did that make him permanently weak did it? No, it din't, that night he had managed to get off that roof and back to his house by himself, that wasn't weak. He had gone to the manor because he was afraid of hurting himself, that took strength. He realized being at the manor wasn't what he needed and came to Jason, that took strength. He told Jason what had happened, then Damian, then Tim. He had told them the story, it took strength to tell them the story. He had found the strength to put the Nightwing costume back on without having panic attacks. He had agreed to therapy, that took a hell of a lot of strength. Strength to put his pride on a shelf and get help and strength to actually tell someone else what he was feeling. If he had done so many things that had required strength how could he possibly be week. You cut yourself, so deep you were bleeding out, you left scars. Yes, but he had realized he made a mistake and he had called someone. Calling someone took strength, if he had been weak he would have just let himself bleed out. 

Dirty, Disgusting. It would call him. He felt dirty, he wasn't, he wasn't dirty. Physically she had touched him and raped him but she hadn't left him stained, she hadn't left him dirty. Mentally she had left him torn apart, broken, scared, but not dirty. He had done NOTHING to deserve the tile of dirty. 

don't deserve to eat, your a disappointment. How was he a disappointment, who had be disappointing. Jason, Tim, Damian, Alfred? None of them were disappointment in his, just worried about him. Why would they be disappointed in his, he hadn't done anything wrong. Being raped wasn't his fault he did nothing wrong. Even if he had, even if being raped had somehow made him a disappointment why did that dictate whether or not he was allowed to eat. Your a disappointment because you're weak. He wasn't weak 

They don't need you. Jason needed him, last night when Jason was having nightmares he needed him. When Damian was injured on patrol or fighting with Bruce he needed him. When Tim was burned out and needed to vent he needed him. His brothers needed hi. His town needed Nightwing. such a god damn burden to everyone. No, he wasn't. They wanted to see him get better or else they wouldn't have put up with him. God knows it had been hard to put up with him. If he had been a burned they would have left him to bleed. 

better off dead. NO, no. No, he wouldn't be better off dead. He didn't want to be dead. He wanted to be alive, he wanted to be happy.

He felt something in him shift. At that diner two weeks ago he had said he would get rid of that broken look in his eyes either through recovery or suicide. Looking at himself in the mirror his eyes still looked broken but they din't scare him like they had at the diner. He would get rid of that look, but suicide wouldn't be the answer. Hell, it wasn't even an option at his point. He WOULD get better, end of story. 

"Not weak, not dirty, not a disappointment, it wasn't my fault, my brother need me - they love me, I going to survive, I will recover." He whispered and closed his eyes ""Not weak, not dirty, not a disappointment, it wasn't my fault, my brother need me - they love me, I going to survive, I will recover." He repeated it again with a little more confidence.

His hands balled into fists on the counter and he met his eyes in the mirror again "Not weak" He repeated himself again slowly, not breaking eye contact with his reflection  "not dirty, not a disappointment" He swallowed hard, "it wasn't my fault, my brother need me - they love me, I going to survive, I will recover." 

There was a soft knock on the cracked bathroom door then Jason's head popped in "You good, you've been in here for like ten minutes?" They both knew Dick had been on there far longer than ten minutes. 

"Yeah, yeah i'm good" he answered honestly. This hadn't been a life changing revelation but it was enough to start. The voice was wrong, he would recover, everything was going to be okay. 

"I wanted to talk to you, about, ya know, maybe ... joining you in therapy like every other week or so" Jason muttered and Dick smiled. Jason had confessed today, his trauma had happened years ago but knowing Jason he probably had never dealt with it. They would heal together. 

Chapter Text

Dick's P.O.V

Dick jerked awake, his breathing rapid and his eyes wide. It had been a nightmare, jsut a nightmare. It had felt so real, all too real it made him feel sick. He relaxed against the bed regaining control of his breathing. It was the same nightmare he had constantly, Tarantula and Mirage. HE pushed it out of his mind and forced himself off of the bed knowing tha the wouldn't be able to get asleep. It had been alamost four months since that night, four months of nightmares and he had still yet to be able to calm hismself enough to fall back asleep after one. So instead he walked around his apartment. It was empty and silent.

The silence was nice but it rang in his ears too loudly, made her words playback on loop so he turned on the radio. It was on whatever station Damian had left it on last but he didn't really care eonugh to change it. Or even to really figure out what language it is was, probably Arabic. He didn't care. He had to be up for work in a few hours, the question was what would he do until then. He could try to fall back asleep but he knew that wouldn't happen so he just decided to grab a book and settle on the couch to read. It was one of the various books he had taken from Jason's house over the course of the last few months. 

He thought about the last few months, they were a mess of commotion and fear. Somehow through all of it, e had acceditanlly managed to bring his brother's al closer to eachtoehr. He had also gotten Jason to take up therapy alongside him and they were both facing their traumas together. It wasn't exactly how he had imagined getting his brothers to get along but in a backwards kind of way it did just that. 

He yawned trying to focus on his book but his eyes were getting heavy. The next thing he knew he was waking up to the sound of his alarm clock ringing. He pulled himself off the couch where he had fallen back asleep, the thought passed through his mind. He was proud of himself, he had managed to calm himself down after a nightmare without a panic attack and he had done something he had never done before. He fell back asleep after the nightmare. It was slow progress but he wouldn't deny that it was progress none the less. 

Chapter Text

Dick looked in his mirror with a sigh, he was in the bottom half of his police uniform looking at himself shirtless in the mirror. He was specifically looking at the scars that spread over the top of his chest. Scars made by his own hands, when he looked at them he felt like they were the only evidence of an invisible crime. Even if she hadn't physically left them there herself he still associated those scars with that night. He really needed to finish getting dress and head into work but he was having trouble with that. Today he had woken up and could immediately tell it was going to be one of his bad days. 

Since he started the therapy with Canary (and later with Canary and Jason) his days has gone from all bad to some good some bad. Now that they had been at the therapy for a little over a month at a once or twice a week sessions plus emergency sessions as needed, he had been having mostly good days.

On good days he got up in the mornings and everything was just like it had been before. Before Tarantula, before Mirage, before the panic attacks and the nightmares and the touch aversions. He would wake up, train, eat, work, read, everything he used to do before the events of the past roughly four months. He thought about how if someone had told him four months ago that he would go back to living his life just like normal he wouldn't have believed them, he probably also wouldn't have believed he would end up breaking down and confessing everything to Jason. But sometimes that's just the way things work out. 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair grabbing for his undershirt off of the dresser beside him. Not every day could be good.

Some days, like today, were hard. He woke up feeling like he had no energy. Like there was no point in even trying after all he was just damaged goods. On the bad days, he woke up in the early hours of the morning, usually from nightmares and cried or laid in bed for hours. That's what had happened this morning, he had woken up from a nightmare at three in the morning and had cried for a while till his alarm went off at five. On bad days everything was a struggle, getting out of bed, showering, forcing himself to eat, going to work, socializing, even working with the team. On those days he just forced himself to push the negative voice out of his mind and force a smile. On those days he could handle being touch but would rather people didn't. Sometimes he would go out as Nightwing, sometimes he would crawl into bed and sleep or call up, usually Jason, and talk to him. Sometimes when Jason was having a bad day he had also started the habit of calling him. In a weird way, Dick was glad that him calling Jason had opened into a two-way thing.

Dick slowly buttoned up his shirt and forced his eyes off the mirror. It had taken him almost two hours to simply shower and get dressed, normally he would consider that an excessive amount of time and be annoyed at himself for being unable to force himself to move any faster. He had been trying to learn to be gentler on himself when he had bad days. At first, he would beat himself up for the bad days but he was slowly trying to learn to just let himself take them as they came. 

Then there were the REALLY bad days. Just like it had been at the beginning. The days he screamed himself awake and couldn't force himself out of bed, where he couldn't stomach any forms of physical contact, the days he couldn't even look at the Nightwing costume without feeling her hands unzipping it under the beating of cold rain. Those days he fought with the voice in his head that told him he was worthless and better off dead, those days were a blur of tears, sensory flashbacks, and emergency therapy sessions with Dinah. It was those days he called a brother and either had them come over or went to their place (if he could make himself get up) because he didn't trust himself to be alone. Those days were becoming less but they still existed. 

Dick rested his head against the cold glass of the mirror with a deep sigh. He felt so tired today. He always felt tired on the bad days, according to Dinah it was depression according to the vocie in his head it was laziness. He didn't really care anymore who was right. Whatever the exhaustion was he knew he could push through it. He could push through it for work and for team training after work and maybe just maybe he would be able to push through it enough to be able to go on patrol. "Come on Grayson pull yourself together" He whispered absorbing the cold against his skin. "You can do this, just breathe" 

He took a long steady breath in and let it out forcing himself to pull away from the comfurting cold of the mirror. He was exhausted, he jsut wanted to go back to sleep but he knew if he layed back down there would be no getting back up. On good days, it was like get up and get dressed for work was one simple task but on the bad days, it was a series of tiny tasks, all of which took an excruciating amount of effort. 

None the less he knew he could handle it. He knew he could push through the bad days, he knew that even though they felt like hell they were a necessary part of getting back to his normal self. He sighed looking in the mirror and putting on a smile. He would be okay, he could do this. 

With that last thought, he left the small apartment heading to the police department. 

Chapter Text

Today was a bad day. Not a really bad day but it was up there with some of the worse ones. He had woken up from nightmares around two in the morning, almost three hours before he was supposed to wake up, and could feel it. Every part of him felt heavy and exhausted, he laid in bed just reading and trying to keep his mind from wandering but the voice in his head was screaming at him. It was yelling vile angry things 

"Useless, worthless, disgusting, dirty, weak" He had been trying to ignore them but it was easier said than done. It took him over an hour to will himself out of bed and even then he had forgone a shower not trusting himself in the least. He could feel it, if he got in the shower his self-control would slip and he would end up scrubbing himself bloody. He didn't want to do that, so instead, he just wiped himself down with a rag and called it good enough for one day. He didn't have work but he did have a major sparring lesson to teach at the cave for his young justice team and he couldn't skip it. If he had been able to skip it he would have but he couldn't. Unfortunately, that meant he had to wear the Nightwing uniform. It took him almost an hour to work up the will power to pull the Nightwing costume out of its secret hiding place. The moment he opened the secret hiding place he felt a weight add to his chest, a mild panic that threatened to consume him if he wasn't careful. Even after opening it, it took him another forty-five minutes of glaring at the uniform and fighting off a panic attack before he was able to put it on. He had tried to eat but he managed only three bites of cereal before it turned sour in his stomach and threatened to come back up. He had seriously contemplated calling in sick but he refused to let the bad day have that much control over his life so he forced himself to not give in to the voice in his head or the panic in his chest. It was a bad day but this bad day would not control him. After a while, he couldn't stand to be in his house anymore and went to the cave early. That's where he was. early, sitting in the cave absorbing himself in work as best he could and waiting for this damaged session to start. Despite his best efforts of keeping it out of his mind, the mild panic played on the edge of his consciousness. The heavy feeling on his chest warning him that a single wrong step could risk a full panic attack or worse, flashbacks. 

"DICK" He heard an over-excited voice call and out turned around to see Wally speed up to him and wrap him in a tight hug. His first thought was panic, his second was rationality. It was just Wally, his best friend nobody else. He gently pushed Wally off of him offering a small smile. Panic bubbled under his skin and made him want to scratch till it was gone, his skin burned from the physical contact and even though he was gone Dick could still feel the remnants of the hands-on him. He forced himself to remember it was just wally, nobody else, just wally. 

He must have been staring into space because Wally waved a hand in front of his eyes, the playful look melted from his face. "You okay there bat-boy?" He asked sounding almost seriously. Dick blinked and looked at him. He offered his best smile and even he could tell it fell short

"Uh, yeah, sorry" HE tried to think of an excuse for what had just happened that didn't include outside himself to his best friend "I'm just exhausted." That wasn't necessarily a lie, Dick was exhausted he was just hoping Wally took it as he was exhausted because of patrol rather than he was exhausted because he was having a bad day and depression was doing its damndest to pull him under. 

Wally seemed to be happy with his response because he just grabbed his wrist "well come on its time to start"

Was it already time to start, had dick been staring into space for that long? Dick forced himself to just breath and ignore the fact that he was being touched, he really didn't want to be touched right now. HE REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO BE TOUCHED RIGHT NOW. He forced himself to breathe and look around the room, not everyone was there yet. In fact, the session wasn't scheduled to start for ten more minutes so people were still trickling in. Currently, the only people who were there was Robin, Red-Robin, Kid-Flash, Black Canary, Blue Beetle, Superman, M'gann and a few other people were in the area already but the majority of the team had still not arrived. "Stupid, useless, disgusting piece of shit, look at all these people how are you supposed to teach them to protect themselves when your too weak to even protect yourself" Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose trying his best to ignore the annoying hateful voice was screaming at him in his head. These days the voice-only showed up when Dick was having bad days, which were admittedly becoming rarer, but whenever it did show up it knew exactly what to say to hurt him. "Robin, can I um talk to you for a second?" He asked softly and his brother looked up with an odd expression. 

He simply walked out of the room knowing his brother would follow him, he walked into one of the unused side rooms. Three seconds later the door opened again and his brother comes in. "What do you need Grayson?" Damian snapped. In a bitter kind of way Dick found it amusing that no matter what he could always trust his youngest brother to be snippy and straight to the point, it was almost comforting. 

"A hug"  DIck found himself admitting and that wasn't exactly what he had intended to say when he called Damin over. Damian was giving him a confused if only on the side of concerned expression. 

" Tt, Grayson, what is your problem today, you're acting like a child." Damian scoffed the way he usually did and Dick kinda felt like sinking in on himself, Damian was right he was being childish to ask for a hug. He just felt like maybe a hug would help him, at least a little bit, out of the bad day he was having. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, you just can't do anything right can you, you're such a burden to everyone. The voice sneered in his head and he sunk more into himself feeling the panic bubbling up under his skin. Suddenly he felt two small arms wrap around his torso, he jumped but then looked down to see Damian hugging him. "Grayson, there is no need to cry over a hug" DIck hadn't realized he started crying but he could feel the cool wetness on his face. DIck didn't acknowledge his teasing he just wrapped his arms around his younger brother tightly 

"I know, it's pathetic" He whispered kneeling down so he could hug Damian tighter "I'm sorry, I'm just having a really bad day" He heard his voice crack softly and he pulled his brother closer. He could feel some of the exhaustion bleed off of him and the panic that had been bubbling up under his skin settled a little. Damian's only response was to tighten his grip around Dick. Dick relaxed a bit and just held his brother for a couple of minutes before breaking off the hug. He was feeling better if just marginally but it was enough to help him get through the training session. "Thanks" he whispered looking at his brother who was staring at him.

Damian held his look for a bit "Yeah, whatever, its time to start the training session." Dick knew that simply by allowing him to hug him without fighting it meant Damian was concerned about him. It upset him and made him happy at the same time. He hated making Damian concerned but it helped him feel better to know that Damian cared about him. 

The training session was hell, well the training session was actually fine. But by the end of it, DIck was exhausted, hypersensitive to touch, and could feel the panic just under his skin burning to get out. He wanted nothing more than to isolate himself somewhere dark and quiet and wait for this bad spell to be over. He also knew he couldn't do that because he was already struggling against the urge to hurt himself and being alone would only exasperate that urge, all he knew at the moment was he needed to get out of the Nightwing costume before he went crazy.

The minute the training session was over he rushed out of the room and toward the zeta tubes, he was glad he was gone before anyone could stop his rushed exit. At home, he immediately tore off his uniform feeling significantly better with it off. He would never consider changing his uniform but he was wearing his uniform when he was raped by tarantula so it was definitely a trigger and on days like this is made the uniform hard to wear. As he walked to his room to get clothes he passed by a mirror and froze. It was the scar across his chest that caught his attention in the light, he turned to the mirror to examine the scar more closely and he couldn't help but notice the other self-inflicted scars. He was suddenly struck with the overwhelming desire to hurt himself in any way possible. His breathing picked up and his chest felt heavy, the angry panic that had been bubbling under his skin burst out and he felt phantom hands materialize on his skin. He knew he needed to get out of there and go somewhere where he was sure someone could watch him, make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself. He quickly walked *ran* back to his room and pulled on long pants and a long-sleeved shirt before flicking off his light and crawling into a small spot under his desk. 

During therapy, Dinah had theorized that because the assault happened on such an opened area, a rooftop, that being in small paces helped eased his panic because it helped the brain realize that it wasn't in the same location as the original trauma. He didn't care what the reason was, he just cared that small places like under his desk made the panic ebb even a little bit. He took a long slow breath in and reminded himself to breathe. 

He could handle this

the hands weren't real

he was safe 

the voice was wrong

nobody could hurt him

all he needed to do was breath and he would be fine

Dick repeated this mantra to himself for about thirty minutes until the sensory flashbacks nad the phantom hands ebbed out of existence and left him back at the tired and weak state he was feeling before. He gave himself a few more minutes to make sure that the flashbacks had truely stopped before he crawled out of his hiding spot and faced the darkroom. He took a long deep breath and went to pack his stuff up. He wasn't sure how long this bad spell was going to last so he was planning on riding it out at the mansion since h didn't trust himself to not hurt himself at his own house and he knew he would never hurt himself at the manor because he was too paranoid someone would see him. 

He refused, absolutely refused to let these bad days control his life. Even if that meant asking for help or going home every time it became too much for him to bear alone. 

Chapter Text

"So Dick, it has been almost six months you were ... victimized and I have to say, I'm very impressed with your rapid progress. A lot has changed in the last five or six months and I want you to take time to recognize that. I also feel the need to caution you because your recovery from this was so rapid, perspectively speaking, that there is a chance of a phycological backslash where your psychological well being could revert back to an emotional breakdown state. This often happens when you are exposed to either someone who you expected to be supportive not being so or when you are forced to recount your trauma under a forced or emotionally unsafe situation. I'm not saying this to scare you but rather I'm trying to make sure you know the risks, if you want to tell someone what happened then do it but make sure you are doing it because you want to and because you feel safe or else it really does run the risk destroying everything we've built up over the past three months of therapy and rebuilding for a regression can often be harder than the original treatment."

Dick laid in bed thinking over the conversation that he had with Dinah during therapy earlier. The idea of him emotionally reverting to how he was when everything had first happened absolutely terrified him. 

At the beginning he was an absolute disaster, he was starving himself, sleeping all day, a depressed disaster, having terrible nightmares every night and sensory flashbacks/panic attacks every day. He had been suffocating himself in long clothes to cover up cuts and sores from where he scrubbed himself bloody and was actively planning suicide. By the time he had actually sought help, in the form of going to Jason, he had already lost almost thirty pounds and had several deep infected wounds from scrubbing himself and had lost all will to live. His last super bad day had been almost a month ago and even that had been a thousand time better than his best days had been in the beginning. Now he was having nightmares and panic attacks sparingly. He still struggled with sensory flashbacks but they were nowhere near as bad as they had been at the beginning and they no longer triggered full out panic attacks like they used to. 

Knowing all that made the idea that there was a risk of him falling back into those same patterns like the beginning was a hard thought to bear. He knew she had said they were a minimal risk but it was still a terrifying thought because there were a couple of people he would have to eventually confess to. Namely Wally and Bruce.

It usually is a response to being forced to recount your trauma under a forced or emotionally unsafe situation.

That was what she had said and he wasn't sure entirely what that meant. When he had come to Jason he had done it because he wanted to get it off his chest, he was having a panic attack when he confessed but he had still felt safe with his brother. He didn't really remember telling Damian because he was so out of it and he hadn't really intended to tell Tim but he still felt safe with telling both of them. He was mostly confused as to what exactly the situation would be where he would have to recount his trauma under duress. 

He rolled over with a heavy sigh pushing the thoughts out of his head. RIgth now wasn't the time to worry about theoretics, the sun had set and it was time for Patrol.

Chapter Text

Dick's P.O.V

"Nightwing," Batman asked, not looking up from his computer. Nightwing was going to join him and Robin on a mission that night, so they were all in the cave waiting for Batman to finish getting the schematics from the building before they could go. Robin was sharpening his bat-a-rangs in the corner and Nightwing had been standing in front of a mirror while Alfred fused over his uniform, and the fact he had lost weight. It was pretty typical. Nightwing chuckled as the older man tugged at his uniform again making subtle Alfred-style snide remarks about how he was going to start shoving nutrition shakes down Dicks's throat if he lost any more weight. As soon as Batman said his name Nightwing looked up and turned to face his ex-partner 

"Yeah B?" He chirped happily. It had been forever since the three of them had gone on a mission together and while he didn't care for working with batman anymore he still loved working with Robin. 

"What happened to that girl you were working with? Tarantula?" Dick froze at those words and his chest suddenly felt tight. He took a shaky breath in, Batman still doesn't know. He had never told Batman what had happened, or why Tarantula had suddenly gone into hiding after having worked with Nightwing for almost eight months. He didn't know she had killed someone, raped Dick, then went into hiding so Damian and Jason didn't slice her fucking throat. He tried to control his breathing but it felt like the knowledge of how to breathe normally was escaping him, like he was drowning, he couldn't breathe. No, this couldn't be happening now, not now, not in front of Batman. He felt blood rushing in his ears, Batman hadn't even turned to look at him. Apparently, the older vigilante hadn't even noticed the effect that his words were having. He must have been silent for too long 

"Nightwing, I asked you a question?" Batman growled it was obvious an order. He still hadn't looked up, Nightwing felt sick. His skin suddenly felt hot and his sweat was ice cold. his chest was burning. 

Tarantula

Tarantula

Tarantula

Her name rung in his ears and he felt sick to his stomach, he felt faint. No, no no no no this couldn't be happening. 

"Shut up" A voice all but screamed and a hand held his tightly. He looked down, it was Robin. When had Robin gotten across the cave to him, how long had he been standing there? Nightwing wasn't talking, who was robing talking to? Nightwing looked up to see Batman looking at the two of them. Batman got up and NIghtiwng felt the overwhelming childish need to hide but he couldn't move. He was breathing too fast, his head was spinning. His heartbeat was so loud in his ears. Damian's hand holding his own so tightly. Batman approached them so quickly. It was too much. Her name rang louder in his ears, his heart beat faster, his chest burned hotter. Batman was going to figure out what happened, He was going to hate him, he was going to blame him, he was going to call him disgusting and weak and...

Damian's P.O.V

"SHUT UP!" Damian screamed at Father grabbing Grayson's hand tightly. He was furious. Grayson was standing tense, frozen, borderline hyperventilating, and wide-eyed looking into space in the general direction of his old mentor. Damian grabbed his hand tightly, not really sure why. Waves of protectiveness flushed over him like a god damn tsunami and he wanted to beat the shit out of Father for even mentioning her. He didn't know, of course, but he should have noticed immediately when Grayson started having a panic attack. And Grayson was very clearly having a panic attack, the worst one Damian had seen him have in months. Father didn't even look up till Damian screamed at him. Now he was rapidly approaching him and Grayson was panicking even more, his breathing increasing. 

"Nightwing?" Father growled touching him. Grayson jerked away hitting his shoulder hard on the wall of the cave. Another shot of overprotectiveness shot through Damian who growled, how was his father so oblivious.

"DONT TOUCH HIM" Damian barked and stepped between the two older men taking Grayson's hand again since he had yanked it away when he jerked backwards. "Grayson, look at me," Damian said gently, peeling his mask off his face to give his brother an uninterrupted view "Grayson, look at me" He tried again, ignoring the demands for an explanation that were coming from his father. He was growing scared, Grayson was growing paler and his breathing was going faster and faster. Damian held his hands softly and led him to a chair where he sat down softly. The terror in Graysons eyes had been replaced by a dull empty look and he made no effort to move or do anything. He looked damn near catatonic if it weren't for the still rapid breathing. 

"Grayson, please" He tried grabbing Grayson's other hand. He was terrified. He had only been present once during one of Grayson's really bad panic attacks and Jason had been there to help him through it, Damian had no idea what he was doing. 

"DAMIAN! TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON!!" Father demanded once again and this time Damian was too angry to even care. He swung around and shoved Father backwards

"SHUT UP" he screamed again "He's having a panic attack because of something YOU said and all you are doing is making it worse by yelling" He didn't even wait for a response and turned back to his brother taking his hands again "Pennysworth, can you get a cold glass of water" He spoke clearly, careful not to let his anxiety shine through his voice.

"Of course Master Damian" With that Pennyworth was off to get water and Father had fallen into silence. Grayson's hyperventilated breathing had tapered off into something that was probably healthier but much more terrifying. He was breathing so shallowly that if Damian hadn't been right in front of him he wouldn't have even noticed the minuscule breaths. So small and shallow they didn't even raise his chest. His eyes were blank and his face was pale. Now he really did look catatonic. Pennyworth returned with the water minutes later and Damian gratefully took the glass from him and put it to Grayson's lips. Grayson took two large gulps before he started letting it drizzle down the side of his chin. One long slow blink came from Grayson and then another and he was looking still disconnected but at least he was there. 

"Grayson, it's okay, you're safe just come back to us" He assured running his thumb over the back of Grayson's hand. Just like Grayson did to him when he was upset. Grayson slowly blinked again and this time his eyes focused on Damian who offered a small smile. 

"Is anyone going to tell me WHAT THE FUCK just happened" Father snapped and suddenly Grayson's breathing picked back up again and he pulled away from Damian drawing his legs up on the chair and curling into himself. He was covering his ears and shaking his head quickly. Damian was furious. He was just getting Grayson to calm down and Father had to go and kick him back into high panic mode. 

"No, no, no, I said no, I said no" Grayson sturted muttering quickly and Damian hesitated not wanting to touch him and make things worse. Father didn't seem to have the same hesitation and grabbed Grayson's shoulder pushing him to sit upright. Of course, this didn't go over well and Grayson scrambled back knocking over the chair he was in and scrambling onto the floor. Damian couldn't help himself and shoved Father back away from his brother, overprotection burned in his chest and he felt outraged at the fact Father was acting so oblivious. Was he always this way when people had panic attacks. Did he always act so fucking dense? 

"STOP! Stop touching him, stop talking, just stop" Damian shouted and he could hear Grayson whimper behind him. Grayson needed the screaming to stop, he needed to calm down, he needed Father to go away. It wasn't in Damian's nature to yell at people in such a brash uncultured way but he didn't care at this point "Can you not tell you triggered this and you are making it worse"

"How did I trigger this? All I did was ask about Tarantula!" Father screamed a little quieter and Damian heard a whimper from his brother

"STOP. SAYING. THAT. RAPISTS. NAME!" He raged and turned around and to go comfort his brother again. Grayson was sitting on the floor looking wide eyes into space, he was digging his nails into his chest and tears streamed down his face. Damian approached him carefully and took his hand moving it away from his chest. "Shh, Grayson, it's okay. She's not here" He spoke softly holding his brother's hands so he didn't hurt himself. Luckily Father had stopped talking. Grayson whimpered and squeezed his hands tightly. Tight enough it was painful but Damian didn't make any effort to move. He was scared and didn't know what to do, he realized that he had told Father Grayson’s secret. He hoped Grayson wouldn't hate him for it. RIght now that didn't matter, Grayson needed to calm down or he was going to pass out. Damian tried to think of how Grayson comforted him after nightmares and bad patrols. 

"Shh, your okay" Damian spoke as soft and gentle as he could. He felt out of place doing this kind of comforting. It was always Grayson who comforted people, it was Grayson who was the soft empathic caring one, not Damian. He ignored the anxiety burning in his chest and rubbed small circles on the back of Grayson's hand with his thumb. What would Grayson do in this situation if the roles were reversed? He would hug him, but hugging him was a bad idea he wanted to touch him as little as possible. What else would he do? He would make sure that he felt safe, how could Damian make him feel safe. 

"I told her no, I told her, i told" Grayson was cut off by a hiccup and then a whimper

"Shh, I know, I know you told her no. She's not here, she won't hurt you" Damian tried to reassure the man. He was surprised when Grayson suddenly lurched at him pulling him into a hug that was so tight it hurt, he didn't try to fight it. He just hugged back gently, as not to make Grayson feel confined. He felt the warmth of tears soaking through the shoulder of his uniform. He felt rage and he wasn't even sure who it was at. Himself, for still not having found the bitch who did this to his brother? Tarantula, for having hurt him? Father, for having been too fucking oblivious to notice that something was very wrong with his eldest? After several long minutes, he hard Father walks up behind him, his entire body tensed and was completely ready to defend Grayson’s if he so needed it. 

"Rapist?" Father spoke and Damian felt Grayson tense in his arms. Did that man always have to say the wrong thing at the wrong time? "Dick, what is he talking about?" At least he wasn't yelling, he reached out to touch Grayson and Damian growled warningly at him. He would be grounded for sure, he didn't care. 

"She raped me" Grayson whispered, he sounded broken. Damian's heart broke and he held his brother closer, Grayson made no move to get away. "Then she disappeared." Damian wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen next. Maybe for Father to comfort Grayson or get angry at Tarantulas, or something along those lines. He wasn't expecting the next words that were spoken

"Why didn't you fight back?" The words shot through Damian like a knife and he was pissed. He had never expected to hear his father say such an abhorrent thing, especially considering how Damian himself had been conceived. DIck tensed in his arms and his grip tightened around Damian once again, now it really was painful but Damian still wasn't going to say anything. Hell, he was afraid to open his mouth, fearing that the only thing that would come out would be insults and yelling, things Grayson didn't need right now. 

"I'm sorry" Grayson whispered and it made Damian feel sick. Dick was apologizing for being raped, he was apologizing for being unable to fight back. Damian held him even tighter, pulling him closer so he was half in Damian's lap. He wanted nothing more than to punch Father in the face. To scream at him and fight him. His first son, adopted or otherwise, was on the floor having a god damn emotional breakdown over being raped and he had the NERVE to ask WHY HE HADN'T FOUGHT BACK!. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should have been stronger" Dick muttered into Damian's shoulders.

Damian ran his hand through Grayson's coarse hair "It wasn't your fault" he assured, he looked up and met Fathers eyes "It wasn't your fault" he assured again not breaking eye contact with Father, as if asking him to challenge what he was saying. 

"You were larger and stronger than her, I don't understand how you could let yourself get raped" Father spoke as if it were the most casual conversation on earth. Damian was appaled, he tore away from Dick and shoved Father as hard as he could 

"GET OUT" he screamed "GET OUT, GO ON PATROL BY YOURSELF IM STAYING HERE" He screamed shoving him back again. Luckily before it could get any more heated Pennyworth cut into the conversation

"Master Bruce, I do believe you should go on patrol now. Some space might be good for Master Dicks mental health" He spoke with the unwavering voice that he always did but Damian could hear something underneath it. Exasperation? Anger? He wasn't sure. Luckily that seemed to be enough convincing and Bruce stormed off and hopped in the batmobile driving off. Damian turned back to Grayson who was sitting on the floor curled back into his seated fetal position. Damian was feeling so many different emotions it made him dizzy. Anger, fear, anxiety, disgust, rage, confusion. He gently went back to Grayson and sat down beside him, not making any physical contact. "Master Damian, is there anything I can get you two?" He asked and Damian knew he was just trying to be helpful but right now everyone pissed him off. 

"No" he answered honestly "no, please, just leave" He whispered and the older butler respected his wishes. It was now just the two of them in the open area of the cave. "Grayson" he whispered, his voice cracked and he didn't even try to hide the fact he was scared anymore. Grayson didn't move, he was muttering something in Romani and Damian couldn't follow it but he knew it was bad. Dick rarely spoke Romani outside of extreme stress or rage. Hell, Dick spoke Romani less often than Damian spoke Arabic, but that wasn't important now. Damian put his hand on the floor where he knew Grayson would be able to see it, it was an offering. That was something Grayson often did when Damian was upset, he would just lay his hand down in offering of comfort. Damian hoped Grayson would just accept it. 

They had made so much progress recently, so, so, so much progress. They had gotten Grayson eating and sleeping properly, he wasn't regularly depressed or suicidal anymore, there was no self har, hell they had even gotten rid of the voice in his head for the most part but now, now Damian was terrified they would be right back at step one. RIght back in the same spot, they had been when He saw Grayson sitting on Todd's couch incoherent and minimally-responsive, back where they had been when Grayson first told him what happened. He let a few silent tears slide down his face, making no hasty effort to wipe them away. He was so fucking scared of what would happen now. 

He felt Grayson's hand sat over his down and he squeezed it lightly. He looked over but Grayson hadn't moved except for his slight rocking and his hand. "It wasn't your fault" he whispered "you were in shock you couldn't fight her, even if you hadn't been in shock it still wouldn't have been your fault. Father is just an idiot." Grayson started crying harder and Damian panicked, he had said the wrong thing. He was so stupid, his brother needed him. Grayson squeezed his hand tighter and Damian frowned. It was going to be a long night, and he would stay up through the whole thing if it meat preserving even a fraction of the progress they had made thus far. 

Chapter Text

"You were in shock you couldn't fight her, even if you hadn't been in shock it still wouldn't have been your fault. Father is just an idiot." Dick knew the words were meant to comfort him but the second they left Damian lips Dick could help but cry harder.

Every part of him hurt, his muscles ached his chest burned and his head was spinning. He knows logically it was all psychological, he wasn't in any physical plain but the emotional stress had simply triggered a physical reaction. He squeezed Damian's hand, his uniform felt tight and he felt like he couldn't breathe. A sob escaped his lips and he felt like his suit was too tight on him. He wanted to get it off, he started grabbing at the uniform desperately with his other him. He couldn't think of anything other than the panic is his chest, the uniform was suffocating him. 

He squeezed Damian's hand, Damian squeezed back. "What do you need?" Damian asked but not in his usually snippy way. Dick grabbed the mask off his face yanking it off and throwing it across the room before pulling at his uniform with both hands. Logically he should just go and change out of it but logic had fled him and all he had was panic over the fact that he was currently wearing his uniform. He had been wearing his uniform when he was raped. Normally it was okay but at this moment it was a trigger and he couldn't think of anything other than the overwhelming need to get out of it and away from it. He heard Damian talking but his blood rushed in his ears and he couldn't think of anything other than the fact that his uniform was too tight. 

He felt hands on each side of his face and they lifted his head from where it was hanging. It was Damian crouching in front of him "Richard, just look at me." DIck did just that. He looked at Damian searching his dark eyes for anything. He expected to find Anger, Disgust, and Disappointment all directed at himself but in the dark brown he only found concern and it sent a guilt covered knife down into his stomach. Looking at Damian made the panic settle down even just a little, he wanted to say something but all that came out was a small sob and he looked down covering his face with his hands.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Bruce's words rung over and over in his head and he felt sick. His chest was beginning to burn from hyperventilating, his blood rushed in his ears, dark spots were beginning to spot his vision, AND HE WAS STILL WEARING THE FUCKING UNIFORM. He opened his lips trying to say something, clawing and pulling blindly at the stupid uniform. He was rocking slightly and if Damian was still talking to him he couldn't hear him. 

"OFF!" He finally managed to croak out, he looked up to see Damian still crouched down in front of him. "OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF!! OFF!!!" He wanted to say something else but that was the only word his brain would come up with. He was damn near screaming but couldn't stop, he felt completely disconnected from his body. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore, he couldn't feel anything but panic. 

"RICHARD!" Once again Damian's hands found their way to the side of DIcks face and lifted it. DIcks screaming tampered and he was all but panting for breath, everything just felt so wrong. "Richard listens to me, I'm going to have Pennyworth draw you a bath and we will get you out of the uniform okay?" Dick looked through the spots in his vision at Damian who was visibly shaken. Dick had caused that shaken look, it was Dick who had scared him. Dick took a shaky breath and nodded softly. He didn't trust himself to talk. Damian seemed pleased with the simple nod and Stood up offering Dick a hand. DIck took it and pulled himself up, he was hit was a sudden wave of dizziness and he stumbled grabbing onto a wall to support himself. All his limbs felt like lead and his muscles ached like he had taken a beating. He looked at Damian who was hesitating just a few feet away from him. After a couple of minutes of standing and regaining his posture, he stood off the wall and let Damian take his hand again. 

They walked up to the main part of the Mansion slower than Dick had ever walked before. Every step he took felt like it took an extreme amount of energy. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around him and the other in Damian's hand. Dick looked at the floor without talking, he was so fuckign tired and he felt sick to his stomach. Everything was just wrong, everything was wrong. Dick had;t been paying attention and found that they had ended up back in his old bedroom. He sat down on the bed and looked up from the floor to see his little brother, he wanted to say something, ANYTHING but he couldn't form words through the haze in his head. 

"Richard, I am going to have Pennyworth draw you a bath, will you be okay alone for a few minutes?" Damian spoke softly, probably trying not to scare Dick. Dick wasn't sure he was going to be okay but he nodded anyway. Damian hesitated a minute at the door before quickly walking out and Dick was alone. He pulled his knees up to his chest and let himself rock softly 

Didn't fight back, let yourself get raped

Bruce's words echoed in his heads and he rocked faster trying to keep himself from falling apart again. He didn't want to fall apart again. He felt like he was falling like the world was crumbling around him and nothing was supporting him anymore. Bruce, His adopted father, the man who had raised him since he was eight had just found out that Dick and been raped and his first question was why didn't he fight back. 

You didn't fight back because your weak The voice in his head sneered, he covered his ears with his hands hoping that it would make the voice go away. It didn't and somewhere he knew it wouldn't but it had been over three months since he had last heard the voice and he hated that it ad came back.

"Weak" he whispered hitting the palms of his hands against his head. "Weak weak weak weak weak weak" with every repetition of the word he hit his head harder balling his fists up instead of using his palms. "Weak, disgusting, dirty, useless, disappointment" he was so out of it he could hardly feel the pain from hitting himself and it only encouraged him to go harder. He could feel bruises forming but the numb dizziness was a nice change from the panic he had been feeling since Bruce had decided to say her name. He hadn't noticed Damian come back in the room till he felt small hands grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from his head. He froze the minute he was touched feeling suddenly guilty about being caught. 

"Richard, I, your bath is ready" Damian spoke quietly and DIck hesitantly looked up at him. There were unshed tears in Damian's eyes and it made guilt burn harder in his chest, he wanted to apologize but once again his words failed him right when he needed them. He didn't want to move but the promise of getting out of his godforsaken uniform was enough to get him standing up, Damian guided him to the bathroom and DIck just stayed silent throughout the entire thing. He was lead to the bathroom in Damian's room, presumably because that one had the largest tub of any other the other boy's rooms. Once he was in the bathroom he stripped his uniform off as fast as he could throwing it into a corner across the room and quickly rushed into the bath not wanting to look at himself. The water was warm but it wasn't near as hot as he wanted it, he had stopped burning himself with scalded water several months ago but now that pain was all he wanted. He had expected Damian to leave and let him be alone but he was almost grateful when he didn't.

"Are you staying?" He whispered not looking up at his little brother. He was feeling guilty and embarrassed about everything that had happened tonight and he just wanted to sink into the warm water and stay there forever. He wanted to cry or scream or anything but he just felt numb and tired. He thought getting out of the uniform would make him feel better but now he just felt exposed and weak. 

"Tt, Richard I know you are stupid but you can not seriously expect me to leave you alone after I just found you hitting yourself." Dick knew he was saying to from a place of caring but the words stabbed through him.

Stupid, stupid and useless and weak

He let his muscles soak in the heat. "I'm sorry" he whispered not sure what it was he was apologizing for. The panic attack, the meltdown, the self-harm, for being disgustingly weak and useless. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he shook his head letting it hang low staring blankly at the water surrounding him. Shut up, just shut up, he doesn't care about your apologies, he doesn't care about you. He gave you your chance and what did you do, you freaked out self-harmed. Bruce blames you and he should It was your fault that you were to weak to fight her off. He squeezed his hands over his ears crying softly. He wanted to voice to go away. He wanted everything to stop. This was all wrong, he just... he wanted everything to be over, he wanted to die.  "I can't" he whispered "I can't do this, all my fault, can't do this anymore" He wasn't sure if he was talking to himself, or Damian, or the voice in his head but he needed to say it out loud because it felt like it was consuming him. He couldn't do this anymore.

He had been getting better but now, after tonight, it just felt like everything was too much. He couldn't do this, he was falling and it felt like he wouldn't be able to get better again. Everything he had been afraid of from the beginning, the very reason it took him two months to tell Jason and he still hadn't told Bruce despite it has been nine months. He had been afraid that everyone would blame him for what happened, they would tell him it was his fault and he was weak. He had been so scared of that happening that he had almost imploded in on himself rather than confess his weakness. Tonight, that was exactly what had happened. Bruce blamed him, asked why he hadn't fought back. Dick just couldn't take it, he felt vulnerable and scared and weak and tired and just completely numb. The only thing that outweighed the heavy numbness in his soul was the suicidal thoughts sparking through his mind. 

"Richard" He glanced up to look at his little brother who was still sitting on the toilet but at some point had grabbed a book. "You'll be okay" Damian assured and Dick couldn't help but morbidly agree. He would be okay, after he was dead and was no longer proving a burden to his family. 

Chapter Text

The rain was warm and the afternoon was clear, it was the kind of weather Grayson constantly would drag him out into for the sake of "playing". He wished he had enjoyed it more when he had the change, cause now it didn't hold any joy. It didn't hold any happiness or comfort, it was just wet and warm and miserable. Damian knelt down in front of the tombstone resting his head against the marble rock. he didn't need to read it, he had read it too much time. He knew exactly what it said. Quiet sobs escaped his lips and he couldn't be bothered to try and stop them. He was alone out here, everyone had made their peace and left but Damian couldn't leave. He couldn't find the strength to stand up and walk away. His knees sunk in the mud and he wrapped his arms around himself tighter. It was hours before he stood up again, pulling something out of the inside pocket of his jacket. It was a small stuffed grey elephant, he set it down beside the feelingless stone and turned away. 

R.I.P

Richard "Dick" John Grayson

Beloved brother and Son

Poți afla că cerul tău este un circ și părinții tăi te așteaptă pe trapez

(May your haven be a circus and your parents be awaiting you on the trapeze)

Damian woke up sobbing. He was laying in bed curled up against Graysons back sobbing and holding himself tightly. He let his eyes rest on the rise and fall of Grayson's chest, he wasn't dead he was right there in front of Damian alive and breathing. Though with the way he had been acting for the last three days he might as well have been dead. Damian dragged himself out of the bed and walked across the cold floor quietly, not that it mattered Grayson wouldn't wake up if there was a literal elephant walking across his floor. He was dead to the world when he slept. At least he was recent, he wasn't always like that. Damian was exhausted, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. He was surprised when he went into the kitchen expecting it to be empty and saw Todd sitting in a chair drinking coffee. 

"What are you doing here?" Damian demanded with all the aggression who could manage in his exhaustion. Todd looked up from his drink and his book to meet Damian's eyes. 

"Alfred called, told me to check on you two, said something happened in the cave couple days ago." He explained and Damian just shook his head, it had been three days. Three very long days

"How much did he tell you?"

"Not much, but I was concerned so I hacked the surveillance cameras, saw everything" He paused and a dread rested on Damian's soul. "How is he?" Jason asked and suddenly Damian was crying agian. He couldn't stop himself. Why was he crying? Since when did he cry so often? It really wasn't like him. He heard the scrape of a chair then arms wrapped around him. He balled his fists around Jason's leather jacket and cried even harder. He was crying so hard he was coughing and choking over his own breaths but he couldn't stop. He felt so damn helpless and scared of everything. He felt like a child, a scared child.

"That bad?" Jason asked and Damian tightened his grip trying to get ahold of himself

Damian had tried everything from convincing to threatening Richard to get him out of that bed or even to interact at all but it was like talking to a brick wall. he got nothing and he was so scared, they hadn't reverted back to step one, somehow they were worse off than step one. They had fallen back to step negative thirty. As the weight of his dreams settled back on his hsoulders he buried his face into the shoulder feeling the leather stick to his skin. He was probably ruining the Jacket, he didn't care. At this weight they were going to lose Grayson and Damian couldn't handle losing Grayson. He swallowed hard and lifted his head up to meet the eyes of the older man. Todd looked concerned. He made no effort to pull out of the embrace, if he closed his eyes he could pretend it was Grayson hugging him, trying to convince him to do something stupid and childish. He could almost imagine everything was okay again.  

Damian finally managed to get ahold of himself and let go of Todd stepping back and scrubbing the tears from his eyes. He had to admit he felt just a little better now that there was somebody there to help him. Tod just looked at him for a second probably wanting to make sure he wasn't going to break down again, given any other circumstances or any other individual he would be embarrassed and angry but he was too tired to care. He had the same dream about Dick dying for the last three days and he hadn't been able to sleep properly without fear that something would happen. 

"He's asleep," Damian said weakly, his voice horse from crying. He had been managing to keep himself together for the three days since it happened but now he was thoroughly defeated. He hoped Richard would just have his panic attack and be back to himself the next morning like it normally was. But after the panic attack, he seemed to only get worse. He went from short sentences to single words, no not speaking at all. He wasn't eating, he was laying in bed all day but hardly slept and when he did sleep he had nightmares. Damian and Alfred had managed to bring RIchard back to his apartment, thinking that being around Bruce at all would be bad for him right now. But even since then Richard refused to get out of bed for almost anything, he would just lay in bed for hours looking at the wall or crying. 

"Okay, I'm calling Wally to see if he can get through to him... When was the last time EITHER of you ate" Todd looked serious but concerned and Damian just shrugged nonchalantly. He hadn't eaten because he was stressed about Richard not eating. He knew his mother would consider his overbearing concern for Richard a form of weakness but that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Richard had been there to teach and be patient with Damian when everyone else just got mad at him so now Damian was going to be there for him. "Demon Spawn, shower and food now" Todd snapped Damian out of his hazy thoughts. A sharp snap rested on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it, Todd was only trying to help. Damian didn't want his help but he knew dam n well that he needed it. 

Damian took several steps away to go get in the shower and a wave of dizziness overtook him causing him to stumble. He knew it was from lack of sleep and low blood sugar from not eating for the last several days. Todd caught him before he fell. "food BEFORE shower, I already have to deal with one broken idiot, I don't need two of you"

"HE'S NOT BROKEN" Damian snapped. Richard wasn't broken he was just sad. Right? He would get better again, everything was going to be okay. Todd just held his hands up in defeat and let Damian go. Damian wasn't really sure why he was so mad at Todd for calling Richard broken but he was, broken things got thrown away, broken things didn't get fixed, Richard wasn't broken, Richard would be okay. Richard could be fixed again, he wasn't broken.  

Chapter Text

Wally had received the phone call from Jason not long after he had gotten out of his chemistry class, it was, to say the least concerning. Jason and Wally had never really hated each other but they were never friends either so the fact that he was receiving an unsolicited call from the younger man especially at like ten in the morning was definitely a concerning idea. He had been right to be concerned. When he answered the phone he hadn't even had time to rattle off a greeting before he was interrupted. 

"You remember all those times Dick helped you through your depressive episodes?" Well, that was certainly a strange way to start a conversation. Of course, Wally remembered the dozens of times Dick had been there for him, staying up all night to make sure he was okay, laying with him when he was too depressed to get out of bed. Through all of his parent's abuse, through the PTSD attacks and severe depressive episodes, Dick had stayed with him helping him through them. He nodded then remembered that Jason couldn't see him through the phone. He summoned his voice out of its shocked and confused silence. 

"Yeah, I remember" He didn't like where this conversation was going. No conversation that started out like that could end in any way good. 

"Well, now its time for you to pay it back" There was a pause and it bothered him that Jason's voice was so measured and held only perfectly calculated emotions "and Wally he's bad." He heard a slight break in Jason's voice and it was terrifying. 

That was enough information for him to speed home the second he was sure nobody could see him. He dropped his bag off, grabbed his wallet, keys, and the weighted blanket (which belonged to Wally but Dick often loved) stuffing them in a different bag, then flashing out again before anyone could even ask him anything. He knew he would be explaining this to his uncle later (whom he was living with through college) but right now he wanted nothing more than to be with his friend. Even though he didn't know what would happen. It took him twenty minutes to end up in front of Dicks door. 

He knocked on the door hesitantly, anxious electricity buzzed over his skin. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion making him stress harder, It wasn't Jason who opened the door but Damian. Shit, Damian hated him. Instead of the normal snappiness that Damian normally had, he just opened the door and gestured for Wally to come in. Damian looked tired and stressed, his hair was still damp probably having just got out of the shower. "Jason's cooking, Dicks still asleep in the room" Damian spoke short and snippy but lacking aggression. Wally nodded 

"What's going on, what happened?" The only thing that was burning hotter than his worry was his curiosity. Dick had been through a lot in his life and it had never managed to bring him down for more than a couple days so if this was bad enough that both Jason and Damian were stressing enough to call Wally then something had happened.  

"Ask him yourself, I, we promised not to tell anyone" More anxiety burned in his chest and he just nodded again "He's in his room" Damian barked and turned to walk away, probably toward the kitchen. Wally stood buzzing and anxious, he kinda felt like he had been left in the wind. He took a deep breath and headed to Dicks room. 

The room was warm, Red flag number one. Dick always kept his room cool. 

It was dark, Red flag number two. He liked lights to be on and windows open.

and it was silent, GIANT red flag number three. Dick was almost never in silence, he always had music or TV on as background noise. 

He could see a lump in the blanket where Dick was laying. Completely unmoving, red flag number four. Dick was a restless sleeper so either he was awake or he was sleeping dead still. Both were bad things, he only slept still when he was having nightmares and he never laid in bed after he was awake because it made him restless. He stepped in closing the door behind him "Hey Dickie" He tried gently taking a few steps closer. Dick stirred slightly meaning that he was awake but he didn't offer any kind of response. Wally moved so he was at the side of Dicks bed. Dick was just staring blankly at a wall, he looked pale and his face seemed thin and had the blanket pulled up to his chin despite the warmth. Wally had to bite back the want to cry, he had seen Dick just four days ago. What the hell had happened in less than four days that could drag him down so low. 

"Dickie Bird?" He tried again grabbing the bag he had "I brought my weighted blanket, the one that you like. DO you want me to put it on you?" He was trying to remember what it was the Dick had done for him when he was having depressive episodes but his mind drew a blank. Luckily Dick nodded slightly, at least he was responding. Wally offered a small smile despite how much seeing his friend like this hurt and he pulled the blue blanket out laying it over the one that DIck was already wearing. "Can I lay down with you?" He asked softly. He was going to make sure and ask before he did anything to Dick because he wasn't sure what had set this off and it looked like a strong breeze could break him. 

Dick didn't respond for a minute, he just looked at wally but also somewhere far away. He eventually nodded, Wally crawled onto the bed behind him and laid behind him. Dick was laying on his side facing the wall "I'm going to wrap my arm around you" Wally cautioned and after a moment to make sure there were no objections he wrapped his arm around DIcks torso but making sure to give space between them. He felt the younger man tense and was ready to pull away but DIck relaxed again and let out a small sign. It felt like days of laying in that position in silence but according to the clock it was only about two hours and it was rounding one. He was debating if he should say anything but he just laid there with his friend like DIck had done for him so many times. He couldn't help but notice that Dicks skin was cold, he was shivering in fact and his hair was greasy. Considering DIck had really dry hair the fact that it was greasy was a sign of several days minimum of neglect. 

"Why" Dicks voice was so quiet that Wally could have easily missed it "are you here?"

Wally was struck speechless, Dick couldn't be serious. "Because I'm your friend and you needed me" He answered honsetly. 

"I'm a" he sighed loudly as if whispering was taking an excruciating amount of effort, and if he was truly as bad off mentally as he looked physically it might just be taking that much energy. "a bad friend ... weak... useless" He sighed again. Wally really wished Dick would face him but he was still looking at the wall. 

"You're not weak" Wally argued, "You're depressed that has nothing to do with wea..." 

Before he could say anything else Dick interrupted him "No, too weak couldn't stop her." The words settled cold in his stomach

Couldn't stop who? From doing what? Wally was praying 'please don't let him be saying what I think he's saying' because if he was this was way, way worse than what Wally had thought. "Dick what are you talking about?" He asked almost scared of the answer because if DIck was saying what wally thought he was saying Wally didn't know if he would be able to handle that. Dick finally rolled over so he was looking at Wally. He had bloodshot eyes and tear tracs running down his cheeks. It hurt just to look at him. 

 "Nine, nine months ago, We were working together, I I I was, I was, I was in shock, she killed someone I was in shock, I told her no, couldn't fight, didn't fight, too weak." Dick stopped and let out a long shuddering breath. Wally was looking at him in horror, Nine Months. He was raped NINE months ago, how had he? Had he been depressed thins entire time? How had Wally not noticed? He bit back the urge to cry and just listened to DIcks broken sentences.  "Was doing better, Jason & Damian, helping me, in therapy. Three Days ago, in the cave, panic attack bruce triggered it by accident. Found out what happened, ask why I didn't fight, said I let her, said I let myself get...."

His sentence broke off into a sob and he curled up into Wally's chest. Wally held him close petting his greasy hair. He was furious, not at DIck for not telling him. he could understand why Dick wouldn't want to tell him bu He was furious at Bruce, The big bad Batman would blame his own son for getting raped after he triggered a panic attack. "It wasn't your fault" wally assured "And if bruce won't be here for you remember you still have me and your brothers, We won't let you go through this alone. We want to help you."

DIck shook his head in Wally's arms "No" he objected weakly but didn't move away from where wally was holding him "no help, too broken, damaged goods, I just want, just let me, I can't take this anymore Wally please." Wally's stomach sunk even more. 

"DIck look at me" Dick looked up slightly just so wally could see his eyes. They were red and bloodshot. "Dick, you are not damaged good, you got better once and you will get better again. I promise, and i'll be right here till you do."

Chapter Text

Jason marched into the manor without even knocking on the door. He still had his key despite the fact he seldom came home and even rarer did he use the door but at the moment he was angry and wanted everyone to know it. He had just been on the streets following a lead and trying to hunt her down but he had come short so instead, he decided to come to the manor and 'talk' to bruce about the events of the cave.

Dick was doing okay now. After Wally had arrived hey had managed to convince DIck he would feel better if he showered, after that they at least had him showering each morning but he still wouldn't get out of bed otherwise. It took him damn near fainting, almost six days after the incident at the cave before he would eat again properly and It was another two days after that when Damian finally managed to get him out of his bed for more than a few minutes. After almost two weeks of daily therapy with Dinah and endless conversing from his brothers and Wally, Dick was back to taking being something resembling okay. He was showering and eating mostly regularly, he was working out and spring when he had the energy but he still hasn't gone back to his team, and he was still far from being back to his normal self. He was still touch-sensitive, having panic attacks at least every couple days, borderline suicidal, and depressed as hell. 

Jason had wanted to come and have a talk with Bruce the very day he ended up back at Dicks house, almost two weeks ago, but Tim insisted that they wait and see if Bruce came back and tried to apologize first. Time for apologizing was over now. Damian had been staying at Dicks place ever since it happened and was patrolling Bludhaven as Robin, and he would say it directly but he Jason had overheard him questioning if his Father even wanted him back since he hadn't even tried to call or contact him. That plus the massive panic attack, Dick, had today and the dead ends Jason had been hitting on the street he was pissed and he was done waiting for Bruce. 

"Master Jason?" Alfred looked up from where he was cleaning and Jason look at him with steady eyes

"Where is he?" Jason demanded, he tried not to sound too harsh to the old man. It wasn't Alfred who he was mad at, in fact, he liked Alfred, but his rage was bubbling over uncontrollably. Alfred must have seen this or didn't care because he just sighed 

"He's in the cave, and Master Jason, do try not to make too big a mess" With that Alfred went back to cleaning. 

Jason took a deep breath trying to control his anger as he walked down to the cave. "Bruce?" He questioned, his adopted father turned around in the chair, Bruce stood up off the chair

"Jason? What are you doing h..." without thinking Jason swung at him feeling the satisfying feeling on his knuckles against jaw? Bruce stumbled back a few steps having not expected the sudden punch before he could regain his balance Jason took another swing at him and shoved him back against the wall. ": What the funk is your problem!?!" Bruce screamed taking a swing back at Jason who dodged it and took several steps back form him. 

"What do you think I'm doing here??" He hadn't intended to be screaming but rage boiled inside him and his vision tinted green. It didn't completely pit madness making him act like this but that bottomless anger that resurrected him was certainly adding fuel to the fire. "I'm hearing because you are an awful father" He took another Swing and Bruce managed to dodge it making Jason angrier "I'm here because of what you said to Dick"

"What I said was the truth, he let himself get Raped" Jason flinches hard, it was one thing to hear him say it from a recording. But to hear this man say that DIck LET HIMSELF get raped was enough to make Jason feel sick. they had stopped fighting and were standing on the other side of the room from each other. 

"He was in shock" Jason whispered, "he couldn..."

"It doesn't matter he should have fought her off, he was weak" Bruce was standing there still and was talking without emotion. Jason thought he might actually throw up his stomach was so sick with the words that he was hearing. "What about when Talia drugged and raped you, was that your fault?, What about when I was raped when I was younger, was it my fault?" Jason screamed hoping to elicit something other than coldness out of him. He was used to being angry at Bruce for wronging him but he had never felt suck a visceral protectiveness before.

Bruce looked at him cold "If he had really wanted her to stop he wouldn't have gotten an erection if she had sex with him he wanted it. Guys only get raped if they want it, end of story. Dick, Me," Bruce paused for a second "You"

 Jason froze solid, he felt phantom hands creeping up onto his skin. A familiar voice of that man whispered in his ear 'look at you already hard for me, you enjoy this, don't you? You like it went I fuck you?' He shook his head, this wasn't the time for memories, this wasn't about him right now it was about Dick. Still those words left a knife deep in Jason's chest and he felt nauseous from anger. He took a deep breath trying to keep those thoughts at bay. Jason met Bruce's eyes steady, they were cold and had no look of taking back anything he said. Jason was feeling his hands shaking and the green left his vision. His anger had receded and was replaced by disgust and he was forcing himself not to let his shell crack and show Bruce how much those words had hurt.

"He needed you" Jason screamed "I needed you after it happened to me and you weren't there and then I died. Now you got a sick and twisted second chance at being a decent father for one. He needed you and instead, you turned him out and if it weren't for Damian, who is questioning if you even still want him considering you haven't reached out to him in damn near two weeks, I'm willing to bed Dick would be dead too. Except for this time you wouldn't have had anyone to blame but yourself, It took Dick two months to tell me what happened and when he did he was actively suicidal, it took almost three months before we got him back to being ALMOST himself. Then you come along again and destroy everything, you leave him broken and suicidal all over again." His screams broke off and he felt tears building up behind his eyes and bile burned the back of his throat. 

He felt like he was going to throw up, he tried to suppress the demons that Bruce had dragged up. He was getting dizzy from screaming or maybe he was dizzy from the phantom hands on his skin, he couldn't tell. He grabbed DIck punching him, his punch landed wrong in his stress and pain shot up his arm. He continued to throw and dodge punched till he managed to knock the older man on the floor. He growled hatefully, he knew he was barely holding himself together. "If you can't do anything else write at least test your fucking demon-spawn and tell him to come home" He growled out and ran out of the cave before Bruce could get up. He ran out of the Manor as fast as he had come in, he could feel his mental state deteriorating fast into the sensory flashbacks that Bruce's words had triggered. 

He made it to the woods surrounding the manor before he stopped leaning against a tree. His stomach convulsed and vomit spilt from his lips, he was exhausted.

"If a guy gets raped he wanted it" Bruce's words echoed and blended with that mans words 'you enjoy this don't you?' He felt his knees going week and he let himself sit down on the ground. He took a long deep breath fighting off the phantom hands that bruces words had triggered. The problem was that before all of this with DIck happened Jason hadn't had flashbacks in a long while but after Dick happened Jason ended up doing therapy with him. When he started doing therapy he started having Backdraft, which Dinah had explained to him was a worsening of repressed trauma symptoms when an individual first feels genuinely listened to and cared for, as he was beginning to feel with his and Dicks joint therapy sessions. She said it was perfectly healthy and normal when dealing with depressed trauma, she said it would pass once he learned how to properly cope rather than just repress everything. 

He took another deep breath trying to steady himself and stood back up, he didn't trust himself to drive back to Bludhaven. He knew he could go back into the Manor and Alfred would make him tea but he didn't want to be in the same house as Bruce right now so he just let himself sit in the forest. He had done what he had come here to do, he had talked to and beat the shit out of Bruce. He let the sensory flashbacks playback out over his skin and shoved a cigarette into his lips reminding himself that it wasn't real. He would just stay here still the sensory flashbacks subsided enough that he trusted himself to drive his bike. 

Chapter Text

Damian woke up with a sharp jerk, he blinked hard trying to figure out where his dream ended and reality began. He had that dream again, the one where he was at Richards grave. He had been having it constantly since the cave. He blinked again trying to bring himself back to consciousness, he was in the Livingroom. The television was playing a Disney movie and he was laying against something. He shifted with a groan and heard a small chuckle above him, he knew with his training he should have immediately been awake and alert but he felt safe and comfortable. He could recognize the laught as Richards. Richard who was alive, Richard who didn't die and wouldn't die because he was doing better now. 

Images of his dream flashed through his head, the gravestone, the mud. He snuggled closer to Richard with a small breathy whine. "You okay, kid?" Richard asked and Damian felt a hand run through his hair. Normally he would object but he was still half asleep and Richard's voice was calming. He was tired because he hadn't been sleeping well because of the reoccurring nightmare and had fallen asleep against Richard's shoulder watching a movie with him. From the feeling under his head, it seemed he had been adjusted to be laying in Richards lap instead. 

"I don't want to lose you" Damian muttered, his voice sounded low and blurry, he was still only half-conscious and fading back into the tempting arms of sleep "akhi, ana ahabik, min fadlik la tajrih nafsak (brother, I love you, please do not injure yourself)" He was more asleep than he was awake. He hadn't meant to say that out loud and he wasn't sure he had until he felt a hand petting his hair again. He knew he should feel embarrassed by so plainly speak his emotions and his mother would be embarrassed by him. Right now in his half asleep and sleep-deprived state, he wasn't able to care. 

He weakly pushed his head up into the warmth of the hand curling up more against Richard's leg. He would be aggressive and embarrassed later because right now he was tired and comfortable. He heard a small awwing sound from Richard "'ana 'ahabik aydana , ln 'awadhiy nafsi baed alan (I love you too, I will not hurt myself anymore)" He smiled lightly and let himself fall back asleep. 

Dick wasn't sure if Damian was awake or just sleeping restlessly. Even since he had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago he had been shifting and muttering stuff Dick couldn't understand. He had debated waking the boy up from his restless nap but he decided against it in the end, after all, several days ago he had overheard Jason and Tim talking about how all of this was having a really big effect on Damian. The younger boy was having nightmares and training excessively again, as he used to when he first came to Gotham.  

Dick felt guilty about the entire thing. Hearing that his depression was effecting Damian so severely, even when Damian wouldn't say it himself, was one of the big motivations he had for trying to recover after his complete relapse. He loved Damian to death and would do anything for him, that including living for the boy even when he felt like he didn't have the strength. 

 Damian body jerked and the younger man blinked hazily a few times before curling up closer to Dick's leg. That was always worrisome, really any time Damian was cuddly was worrisome even when he was half asleep. "You okay, Kid?" He asked gently running his hand through Damian thick curly hair. He envied the shit out of Damian's hair cause while Dick's hair was long Damian's hair was thick and soft. He waited for the protest from the boy but di didn't get any instead he just received a small whimper and one of Damian's hands grabbed tightly onto a fistful of Dick shirt, his hands were shaking. With this level of cuddly affection, Dick seriously wondered just how awake Damian was exactly. 

Chapter Text

It was almost two hours before the sensory flashbacks had settled down to a point that Jason was sure he could safely ride his bike. It was nearing one in the morning, he pushed himself up off the ground with shaky legs walking slowly and carefully through the woods. He still felt off, light-headed and sensitive but he was okay enough to make it back to his bike. The bike was parked farther down the driveway so that Bruce wouldn't notice Jason hadn't left yet. It had taken more effort and energy than anticipated to even walk back to his bike. He was exhausted and felt like shit but he knew given the chance to do it again he would have done the exact same thing because it was what needed to be done. 

Leaning heavily against the seat of his boke he pulled out his phone, four notifications. One was a missed call from Dinah, probably asking if DIck was doing individual therapy tomorrow or if Jason was going to be joining in since it was their week to do it together. The others were text messages from Dick. One from about an hour ago saying "Are you okay, you've been on hood business since like eight o'clock?" The other from about fifteen minutes ago saying "Can you pick up dinner on your way home, there was nothing vegetarian in the house for Damian to eat?"

Jason couldn't help but let out a laugh, He wasn't really sure why it was funny to him but Dicks way of trying to take care of everyone except himself was absurd. Jason shook his head feeling some of the heaviness from earlier confrontation lift off his shoulders. He texted back "Don't worry your head boy wonder I'm on my way back, and there isn't any vegetarian food in your house because there isn't ANY FOOD in your house you are terrible of grocery shopping." He got on his bike pulling the helmet back over his head. He drove much slower and more careful than he normally did because he still felt weak and off-balance. What would normally take him forty-five minutes took him about an hour but he made it back to Dicks apartment, where Damian and he had been practically living for the last two weeks, with food and without crashing the bike. By the time he made it back to the apartment he was still feeling off but he was slowly improving. Now he was mostly feeling the really crappy off even feeling that normally came after nightmares. 

He walked in and the house was mostly dark, the only light was the television playing something that looked like emperors new groove. Dick was still awake and watching the movie but Damian was laying on the couch using Dicks lap as a pillow. In that position, with the TV casting a light blue tinge on him the Demon-Spawn was almost cute in a child-like kind of way. He sat the food down on the counter and sat on the opposite side of Dick as to not wake up Damian. It was good that he was sleeping, ever since he broke down crying in Jason's arms two weeks ago Jason had found him awake in the middle of the night more than a few times and more often than not with dried tears on his face. Jason rested his head against Dick's shoulder with a heavy sigh. The whispers and sensory flashbacks that Bruce's words had triggered still hadn't completely stopped. So, every time he began to think they were gone another one would start and mentally fuck him over again leaving him worn out. 

 "You okay?" DIck asked and Jason couldn't tell if he was being condescending or genuinely concerned. Jason knew he looked like shit and probably still had the smell of vomit on his breath from earlier. He just gave a sigh and hoped it was enough of an answer, Dick seemed satisfied because he just went back to watching the movie and held Jason's hand with the hand he didn't have wrapped up in Damian's hair. "We can talk about it if you want to" Dick offered and for some reason it just made Jason angry, though he wasn't really sure why. Right now everything that moved or breathed was making Jason angry. 

"I don't" he snapped and closed his eyes forcing himself to attempt and relax just a bit. Dick didn't know he had visited Bruce and if history was any kind of teacher at the first mention of Bruce Dick would probably freak out which, as much as he loved his brother, Jason could not handle right now. Because if Dick started freaking out and having a panic attack Jason was almost certain he would have a complete meltdown as well. He already felt like he was walking a thin line right on the edge of one. He knew the food was getting cold and they should probably eat dinner but he couldn't bring himself to care. They had all missed meals before and one more missed dinner certainly wouldn't kill any of them. 

you enjoy this, don't you? You like it went I fuck you! Don't lie to me boy, you wouldn't be reacting like this if you didn't want me to, moaning every time I touch you, all hard and hot just for me

The words whispered in his ears and he felt viciously nauseous all over again. He squeezed Dick hand tightly trying to keep his calm, Dick didn't say anything for several minutes. Jason felt the phantom hands assaulting him and he couldn't help but whimper. "Jason" Dick whispered squeezing his hand back "Part of us agreeing to heal together is the actual doing it together part, you help me when I'm having bad days and I help you whenever you have episodes, you can talk to me." Dick voice was irritatingly calm and Jason knew he was right they had agreed to do this together, to both help each other get over their shared trauma. 

"Someone just said something while I was on Hood business and it set off an episode" He admitted through gritted teeth. It felt a bit better to admit it.

Dick let out a small humourless laugh "I guess with my panic attack earlier, Damian's nightmare, and you everyone is having a bad day today." Jason let out a similar dry laugh but in a way that information also made him feel a little better. He took a deep breath calming the nausea in his stomach and went back to resting his head on Dick's shoulder.

They stayed there for a long time Jason letting the words and sensory flashbacks play over him. Dick keeping him calm and grounded in reality. Eventually around three in the morning everything had calmed down and Dick began to drift off to sleep. Soon Jason followed his only thought before falling into a dreamless sleep with that in some fucked up way this was the most familial that this 'family' had ever truly felt. 

Chapter Text

Dick had been back on the team for about two weeks when the team asked why he had been gone so long he told them he was on an undercover mission. Now ever since he returned Wally had been watching him rather closely making sure he was okay. There had been one time over the course of the two weeks when Wally had to intervene and get Dick out of a situation before the team could see him have a panic attack. But for the most part, Dick seemed to be his happy joking cheerful self. In fact, Dick had seemed to be overly happy and too cheerful especially considering less than a month ago he had been too depressed to even get out of bed or eat. Wally didn't want to assume Dick was lying about being happy but he was also painfully aware from personal experience that people didn't go from bedridden depression to 100% happy and healthy in less than a month. Even more than that was Wally had known dick for long enough to know when he was faking it, and he was defiantly faking it.

Eventually, it was bothering Wally too much and he decided to ask Dick about it. "Hey Wing, can I talk to you?" Wally asked siittting his hand on DIcks shoulder, DIck looked up from the conversation he had been listening to but not participating. Maybe it was a look on Wally's face or maybe Dick just really wanted out of the conversation but he nodded standing up. 

"Sure!" He chirped smiling wide, it was a convincing smile but it was also forced. They walked back to Wally's room in the cave, he hardly used it any more and it was still decorated the same as when he was fifteen. As soon as they closed the door Wally's curiosity was bursting out of him.

"How are you doing?" Wally asked. He was concerned by the fact Dick seemed to be doing so good. It wasn't that Wally wanted to see Dick upset or depressed but going from 0 to 100 as fast as he had was almost always fake but it was also a warning sign of someone potentially planning suicide. Wally was concerned about the second one mroe than the first, he had heard of it before. A seemingly miraculous and super-fast recovery from a severe depression only to end in suicide often due to the fact the persons 'Recovery' was them being happy because they knew the end was near.  

"I'm doing gr..."

"Don't lie to me Dick" Wally snapped rubbing the bridge of his nose "Please, you don't need to lie to me. Even with my super speed, I can't recover from that severe of a depressive episode as fast as you claim to have done, I just want to know you are okay" He looked in Dick's eyes as best he could through the domino mask that the younger man was wearing. Wally's words seemed to have hit their mark because all the wound-up fake energy and joy seemed to shad off of Dick like a second skin. Underneath all of it Dick just looked tired and annoyed, it made Wally wish he hadn't even asked. As much as it had hurt him to see the fake happiness that Dick was wearing, it hurt, even more, to see the real exhaustion underneath. 

"I'm okay" Dick whispered resting his head back against the wall he was leaning on. "I'm trying to be okay, I'm really doing my best" he continued and Wally gently grabbed his hand holding it tightly. While he couldn't relate actually to what Dick was going through he could relate to the depression. They stay in silence for a few minutes before Dick starts talking again. "It's still so hard to get out of bed, or shower, or eat but I'm trying and every day I come here and fake my happiness so the team doesn't know. But every day it feels just a little less fake like I don't have to try quite as hard as I did before."

Wally swallowed hard and remembered all the times he had to fake it until he felt better. It wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with it but it was a sign that he was getting better. "You know you don't have to fake it, if you have a few bad days or tell the team you're going through some stuff, they'll understand." Wally knew that there was no way Dick would do that, he was a bat after all and bats were known for how stubborn they could be. How they were trained not to let anyone see through their shell, but he figured it was already better to have it out there. 

"I know" Dick smiled a bit "and I know you and Tim and Damian and Jason and Dinah are all there for me. Just because it's not all really doesn't mean none of it is, I am happy"

That was enough to settle some of Wally's fears. He was still going to keep a close eye out for signs that DIck was beginning to fall again but for now, he genuinely seemed to be recovering. 

Chapter Text

This used to be a normal part of his patrol route, that probably how he ended up there. Really Nightwing hadn't even noticed it at first, he and Robin had just been patroling and practising Robins acrobatics. When he landed on the building at tifrst it seemed like nothing more than just a regular building, just another rooftop. They had stopped on the rooftop for a mid patrol snack and a short rest. Nightwing was sitting on the ledge of the building eating a sandwich and Robin was crosslegged on the ground eating pretzels. The had been on the rooftop for about ten minutes when the air conditioner unit that was a few feet from them kicked on. It sounded like another normal air conditioner except for the fact that it also had a high whining pitch of a machine that desperately needed to be oiled. 

Dick squeezed his eyes closed and tried to focus on anything other than her touching him, there was an air conditioner on making a high pitched whining noise. 

The memory flashed through his mind and his stomach sunk. His first thought was to deny the thought that this was the same rooftop, after all there was a lot of old buildings in this town. More than one of them probably had pitchy air conditioners, right? Still, morbid curiosity forced him onto his feet and he walked to the other side of the ac unit. A few feet in front of the unit on the ground where blood and vomit stains. 

She pushed him into a laying position, he was still bleeding from the fight but he couldn't feel it anymore. All he could feel were her hands. 

He wasn't sure how long he laid there on his back in a haze after she left him still half undressed on the rooftop, maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours. Eventually, he forced himself to roll over onto his side giving in to the nausea in his stomach. He laid on his side throwing up everything he had eaten in the last two days and curling into himself.

"Nightwing, are you okay?" Nightwing blinked hard forcing himself to stay grounded in reality. Slowly he brought a hand to his mouth and swallowed back his panic with a shaky breath. He felt the panic bubbling up in his chest but he refused to let it take control of him. This was nothing more than a stupid rooftop and he was not going to let a rooftop and some stains have control over him. 

He laid on his side crying for a long while until he started to see bits of sunshine threatening to come over the horizon. He knew he needed to leave and get off this roof. He couldn't even imagine what would happen if civilians caught sight of him in such a pathetic state. He forced himself to roll onto his back again. He reached down to his uniform yanking the zipper back up and trying to ignore the sticky disgustingness that he felt. 

"I think this break has been long enough, don't you?" He tried to speak in a solid voice but even he could hear it wavering. Robin walked up beside him and for the first time could see what it was that Nightwing had been staring at

~Tt~  "you're the one who insists we take these stupid breaks int he first place" Robin puffed and Nightwing could hear the concern in Robin's voice despite how aggressive and emotionless he tried to keep it. Nightwing just chuckled and turned away from the stains grabbing his grappling hook 

"c'mon let's go find some bad guy to kick the ass of" he remarked and shot his grappling off to another building ledge, Robin followed directly after him. Eleven months ago this was the building where someone he trusted took advantage of him and raped him, but now it was just another building. 

He wasn't sure where the energy came from but he managed to push himself into a sitting position then a standing one. He wasn't sure what would happen next all he knew was that he needed to get off of this roof. 

Chapter Text

Dick spit into the toilet resting his head against the cold porcelain. He had been here hunched over the toilet throwing up since he woke up about ten minutes ago. He wasn't sick, no he was throwing up because of nightmares. Though this one really hadn't bee a nightmare as much as it had been a perfect memory replaying several times in his sleep and it all felt so real. He had woke up sick to his stomach feeling exactly as he did right after the rape. He closed his eyes letting his head rest against the coldness and trying to calm his rebelling stomach. 

her hand went down to the zipper on his uniform pulling it down, sliding a hand under his uniform and rubbing his half-hard cock

Dick leaned over the toilet again gaging but nothing came up, he wasn't even sure he had anything left in his stomach. He was desperately trying to ignore the erection pushing against his shorts and the phantom hands touching him all over but it was proving to be a futile task. This was happening now, there was nobody else in his apartment, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

She put her hands on his chest moving up and down on him. He felt his body orgasm but it filled him with sickness rather than pleasure. Tarantula stopped only to touch and feel his body until he was hard again. Then she was back to riding him.

Dick retched, vomiting again. He squeezed his legs closed tears streaming down his face. A few more minutes passed and he let himself sit back on the ground resting his head against the toilet seat once again. He cautiously adjusted his shorts trying to make them less tight but even the small amount of friction caused shots of pleasure and sickness simultaneously through his body. He hated himself even more as he bit back a moan, more tears streaming down his face. He didn't want to enjoy it but his body wasn't listening to what his mind wanted. He knew the reason why he was having a much worse reaction to the dream today than he usually did. Today was the one year anniversary of Tarantula and the rape. He knew he shouldn't let the anniversary affect him this much but he had always been the sentimental kind who never forgot an anniversary, good or bad. 

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting on the bathroom floor when he felt a strong hand grab his shoulder. He jerked away violently, violent enough that it threw his balance off and he landed on his ass on the tile. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly feeling his breath picking up and making him feel even sicker and dizzier. He knew realistically it couldn't be her but all his mind was saying was that it was her. "Dick, Dick it's just me!" The voice wasn't a woman's voice, it was too low and rough. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at the invader. Jason had crouched down onto the floor but had the sense enough to stay across the room, he had his hands up in a surrendering gesture. He must have been really out of it to have not heard Jason come in the house or turn off his alarms.   

"Jason" he gasped pushing himself back into a sitting position. He rested his head against the toilet again, he didn't think he was going to throw up again but he was just so tired. A tired sob escaped his lips and once it started he couldn't stop, he was sobbing so hard it rocked his body. He felt that same strong hand rub soft circles on his back. He wanted it to stop touching him but simultaneously he felt like the physical contact was the only thing keeping him grounded to reality. He moved his head off of the toilet seat and onto Jason shoulder shrinking into his brother. Jason's arms wrapped around him super tight and Dick could feel him gentle rocking the two of them. DIck balled Jason's shirt into his fists trying to sink more into his brother, he felt safe wrapped up is Jason's arms like this. Jason wouldn't let her near him, Jason would let her rape him again. Dick hit his fists against Jason's chest with no strength and without letting go of the shirt. He wasn't doing it to hurt Jason, not that he even had the strength to hurt Jason but he was frustrated because he was just feeling so many different things all at once and even his sobbing didn't seem to be letting the emotions out fast enough. 

Jason seemed to understand his gesture because he just continued to rock the two of them softly and tightened his grip around Dick "It's okay" Jason whispered, "Just go ahead and get it all out, we can stay here as long as you need." Dick had no sense of time, they could have been sitting there for ten more minutes or three more hours as he continued hitting his fists against Jason's chest weakly and sobbing until he felt like he was out of tears. His sinuses were so congested he couldn't breathe, he had a terrible headache from crying so much, his muscles all hurt from being tensed up for so long, and he felt sick all over again from the physical stress of his breakdown. As he calmed down he leaned heavily of Jason, right now all he wanted was a bath, he felt disgusting from head to toe. 

"Can" it was a struggle to speak "You run me a bath" Dick managed to whisper. His throat was raw and words were difficult to form and were spoken with almost no volume "I'm disgusting." 

"Sure" Jason whispered, DIck felt himself getting moved so he was sitting against the wall rather than against his brother. Somehow he hadn't registered that Jason would have to let him go to start a bath. He opened his eyes feeling tired and confused. For the first time, he looked at Jason. Jason had been wearing a red shirt that was now wrinkled and stained with tears and snot, Dick would have felt bad if he had any energy. He watched hazily as Jason flushed the toilet that still had vomit in it and turned on the bath. Slowly and carefully Dick forced himself to stand up, leaning heavily against the wall. 

"Why you here?" Dick asked weakly. He weakly walked to the toilet sitting the lid down and sitting on it. 

"Today is the anniversary, we were actually all planning to come over later to be with you but I figured you would probably need someone her before this afternoon. Seems I was right"

Dick sighed "Thanks" He didn't want to be alone. He looked at the floor "Sorry about your shirt" he wanted to apologize for having a mental breakdown and for the fact that Jason was basically having to take care of him like a child, but apologizing for the shirt was easier and much fewer words. 

"It's just a shirt" Jason shot back without looking at him "I can always get another one." Dick heard the unspoken implications of that wording, Jason could always get a new shirt but he couldn't get a new older brother if Dick had made a bad decision, and there was a good chance Dick would have made some kind of bad decision if left alone. "The bath is ready" Jason's words snapped him out of his thoughts "Do you want to be left alone?" He didn't but he nodded anyway. "Okay well call if you need anything, I'm going to be in the kitchen making you something to eat, do you think you can stomach some oatmeal?" He didn't think he could eat anything with the way he felt but he nodded anyway. The look is Jason's eyes made Dick plenty aware that Jason knew he was lying but he didn't say anything and the younger boy left. 

Dick took a deep breath and peeled his shirt off of him, it was damp with sweat. Jason had left the door opened but he hadn't turned on the light and Dick was grateful. He really couldn't handle looking at himself right now. He quickly stripped his shorts off and got in the water. It was warm, on the hotter end of warm that made it almost uncomfortable but also so relaxing. He let himself sink into the hot water till it was just his nose and mouth above the water, he focused on the floaty feeling. He wished he could stay in this warmth forever but he saw the light come on through the bathwater and sat up to see Jason standing in the door. He was feeling significantly better than he had been before. Saying that he still felt like death.

Fifteen minutes later Dick was dressed in Long pants and a long shirt sitting on the couch with a bowl of oatmeal. Dick hadn't been sure what time he woke up or how long he had been on the bathroom floor, but, after all of that, it was still only seven in the morning. He had wanted to eat the oatmeal, after all, it looked good and smelled better, but he was falling asleep where he was. After his second time almost dropping the bowl from his dozing Jason grabbed it from him. 

"Take a nap" Jason demanded, Dick didn't want to. he didn't want to dream again but there was no denying his exhaustion. So he laid down sitting his head on Jason's lap as a pillow. 

"protect me" Dick muttered already half asleep. Jason just wrapped his arm around Dick tightly and it made Dick feel safe. He knew that Jason wouldn't let tarantula hurt him, he was safe. With that, he fell into a dreamless sleep

Jason had expected him to be bad, but he hadn't expected him to be this bad. He had expected memories or flashbacks but he hadn't expected to find Dick on the bathroom floor vomiting from the stress of memories and nightmares. He had been expecting panic attacks but he hadn't anticipated Dick having a total two-hour mental breakdown in his arms mere minutes after his arrival. He had expected Dick to he tired but he didn't expect him to be so tired and out of it, that was practically falling asleep on his feet. And when he told Dick to take a nap he had been expecting some kind of an argument but he hadn't expected a small pathetic, almost beg for Jason to protect him while he slept. 

 Dick woke up about an hour after falling asleep and he felt much better than he had earlier that morning. Though he was still exhausted and sore. As he came into consciousness he grew aware of one strong arm wrapped around him and a hand in his hair. Jason was still there with him and that made him happy. "How are you feeling?" Jason asked and Dick rolled over to he was laying on his back rather than his side.

"Better, not good but better" HIs voice was slurry and his throat hurt like hell. 

"You think you can handle leaving the house, I know you're tired but a change of scenery will help." Jason was posing it as a question and Dick was sure he would be okay if DIck said no but there was also something in his voice that said he wanted to go. DIck wasn't sure he could handle going out, he still felt like shit and he wasn't sure he could handle a crowd. 

"Do you think a scenery change will help?" He asked opening his eyes to look at his brother. 

"It always helped me" 

That was enough to convince Dick "Okay," he pushed himself up so he was sitting. The movement made him dizzy and he was sure he was dehydrated after throwing up so much and not eating. "Where are we going?"

Jason smiled and Dick knew that expression, he was either really going to love this or he was REALLY going to hate it. 

---------

It was a little coffee shop cafe that was on the edge of Gotham and was called Robin's Cafe. Dick had always found that irony funny. It was only ironic because this was the Cafe were Dick used to run off to when he was Robin and would fight with Bruce or when he was having a bad day. It was also the cafe that Dick had brought Jason to when Jason was Robin when he was fighting with Bruce or having a bad day, and the same thing for Tim and Damian. Running away to this Cafe was both a tradition and a right of passage for all the Robins. Also, it was one of the only hideouts where the Robins could go that Bruce had still yet to find. Even though he had found almost all of the others. The last time DIck had been here it was over a year ago when he had brought Damian here after a patrol gone bad with Batman and Brice had screamed and cursed Damian out till he had no more confidence than a mouse. 

"DIck, Jay, its been forever how are you doing, table for two or are your brothers going to be joining!" One of the staff came up to them with a huge smile. The bat boys had been coming here so long and so consistently that most of the staff knew them. Hell half of them had been Dick grow up from a vengeful nine-year-old boy to the twenty-one-year-old man he was today and Jason from an angry eleven-year-old to the more level headed nineteen-year-old that he was now. 

 "Hey, Sarah" Dick was glad that Jason was the one talking to her because Dick wasn't sure he could do his typical high energy happiness. "It's just us today, you think you could get us one of the more secluded back booths." Jason looked at Dick so new he looked exhausted and then back at Sarah "Its been a morning." She seemed to get the message and ushered them to a booth near the back of the small cafe and then left to get coffee.

This cafe was almost funny because one of the inside walls were painted a mural of all four robins, originally it had just been Dicks robin but as new robins came they kept adding to the portrait. The image showed Dick in his original uniform swinging between two buildings with an actual Robin flying beside him. Then they had added Jason's Robin to the alleyway been the buildings crouching down and talking to what appeared to be two homeless kids. They later added Tims Robin standing tall on the edge of the building with his binoculars and legal pad scribbling down notes. And then there was Damian Robin that Dick hadn't seen till today, it was Damian's Robin standing on the street on the edge of the shadows with a katana in one hand and a black puppy by his feet. 

They also had a second wall portrait on the opposite side, it was brand new and had been in construction last time DIck had been here. It was a portrait of all the ex-robins. It showed Nightwing with his Escrima sticks perched precariously on the very edge of a thin piece of stone extended from the roof (the kind gargoyles were supposed to sit on but instead of a gargoyle there was a Nightwing)  and staring into the empty abyss of air that was between him and the street. Down on the street you could see Red Hood with his guns holstered blocking a set of teenagers from entering the alleyway which looked like it was supposed to be crime alley (god knows how Gotham figured out that Red Hood was an Ex-Robin but they did, and despite what Batman thought of him most Gothamites actually thought of RedHood as a good guy who was doing what this city needed), and Red Robin was standing on a building typing away on a holographic computer that emerged from the gauntlet on his wrist. They didn't have Damian on this one yet because he was still a Robin but it was very clear that there was another perch point beside Nightwing that was intended for the younger man when he finally joined the Ex-Robin club (which made a lot of sense because Damian was the only other Robin who enjoyed the art of perching as much as Dick did and there were bets in Gotham and Bludhaven for how long it would take for Damian's Robin to go from being partners with the Bat to being partners with Nightwing.) 

Dick enjoyed looking between the two and seeing how much had changed and still how the pictures were so similar. "Thanks for bringing me here," He said softly picking up the coffee that Sarah had brought over while he was observing the new portrait. "I needed this." He wasn't really sure why this had helped so much but it made him feel a strange sense of peace to be sitting here. "This has been such a weird year" He muttered and was surprised by Jason laugh.

"Yeah, Weird is one way to say it" He shook his head "You had me scared there at some points but you made it, we made it" Jason was smiling and DIck couldn't help but smile back. Jason was right they had made it. 

"So y'all were all planning to come over later and kidnap me?" IDck asked reflecting on what Jason had said earlier

"Oh yeah" Jason had that grin on his face again "We were going to come over and drag you out to dinner, All four of us and Wally"

Dick couldn't help but laugh genuine enjoyable laughter. Something he hadn't thought he was ben able to do today. He hadn't asked his brothers to be with him today because he didn't want to bother them so instead they all devised a plan to spend it with him anyway. They wouldn't let him be alone today even if he wanted to and he was grateful for that. He loved his brothers and he enjoyed being alive and this stupid anniversary was just another bump in the road that they could get over. 

Chapter Text

It was almost a year before Bruce decided to speak to Dick again. For the entire year they didn't talk outside of brief vigilante communications and every time DIck was at the Manor Bruce avoided him like the plague. When Bruce did talk to him again it was an evening when Dick was sitting at the counter drinking tea with honey for a sore throat and Damian was drawing. These days it seemed that he was rarely alone, even when he wanted to be. Which he wasn't exactly complaining about but some times it made him feel like he was still on suicide watch. He hadn't been expecting Bruce to sit down across from him, it had actually kind of surprised him. Being ignored by Bruce certainly hurt but he had gotten used to it, in fact, both he and Damian had.

When Bruce sat down across from them Dick looked up from his tea and at his adopted father but neither of them spoke. Dick suddenly turned more interest to the tea he was drinking. It was ginger tea with honey that Alfred had made him since he still had a sore throat from screaming during a nightmare. He tried his best not to shift or squirm under Bruces stare but the older man was looking at him solidly and it was uncomfortable. After a while, Bruce finally decided to speak.

"Dick" his voice was the same solid cold Batman voice that he used on patrol. Dick was officially scared of whatever his old mentor was about to say. "You had a nightmare last night." Well, this conversation certainly wasn't heading in any direction that he was going to like. 

"Yeah?" Dick asked cautiously, without thinking about it he moved slightly farther back in his chair butting more of a distance between the two of them. Damian how now stopped colouring, he wasn't saying anything and hadn't put down his notebook but DIck could see him watching from over it. 

"What was it about?" Bruce demanded, no it was Batman demanding answers, not bruce. Dink forced himself not to flinch away from the demanding voice. 

Dick took a long slow drink of his tea and glanced nervously around the room looking for a way out "I would rather not talk about ..."

"Was it about tarantula" This time DIck couldn't help but flinch, almost dropping his tea in the process. His non-answer seemed to be answer enough for the Bat because he frowned. He felt the knot of anticipation in his stomach tightening to something else and he met Bruce's eyes trying to appear unfazed by the turn of conversation.

"Yeah, it was" he admitted softly. He glanced at Damian who had tensed and sat down his sketch pad, very clearly listening to the conversation. DIck tried to calm the boy with a look because he made Dick think of a cat getting ready to pounce. it seemed to work mildly, his shoulders lowered slightly but no tension drained. This whole thing was a very strange situation, the conversation was both too formal and too passive. Bruce was getting at something and DIck didn't know what it was but he was not happy about it. 

"You should hang up your uniform permanently"

Dick choked on his tea "WHAT" He growled instantly regretting it as his scratchy throat reminded him of its presence.  

"You're not mentally stable enough to be out there" Bruce's voice was solid and emotionless and Dick wisped he could be anything other than upset. He wished he could see this as anything other than Bruce betraying him once again.

Dick's eyes were wide "I had one nightmare, the first one I've had in nine months" He wasn't screaming but only because his throat hurt so much.

"You had a breakdown" Dick wanted even just a little emotion is Bruce's voice but there was nothing

"That was almost a year ago" DIck was furious. After his 'breakdown' Bruce had abandoned him and when DIck had a nightmare last night, the first one he's had since the one year anniversary, Bruce didn't even check on him or ask if he was okay. Bruce pushed his chair out and got up

"I have nothing more to say about this," He said and simply walked away. He saw Damian getting up to follow Bruce, probably to yell at him or something but Dick put a hand out and grabbed the younger mans shoulder. He didn't say anything but he knew that Damian understood the message. it was, don't bother. It had taken six months after the cave for Bruce to call Damian and tell him to come back home, they had all begun to think Bruce had truly abandoned both Dick and Damian. Dick knew if Damian went to confront Bruce he might actually get permanently disowned this time. Dick didn't want to be responsible for that. 

He took another drink of his tea before setting it on the counter. "I'll be right back" He whispered, he felt like he was going to cry. He had some stupid hope that maybe Bruce had sat down to try and rebuild that broken relationship between them, not to break it more. He didn't wait for an answer and went up to his bedroom locking the door and sitting on his floor at the end of his bed. He felt detached slightly from his body like everything was just slightly off. He felt a few tears start rolling down his cheeks but they were more anger than sadness. Dick pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket looking at it for a few minutes before clicking it opened. 

He brought the knife to his arm feeling the cold metal to his arm, he felt his breathing picking up. If Bruce had just continued to ignore him he could have just accepted his fate of being abandoned but he had devoted half his fucking life to making Bruce proud of him. Even after all of that Bruce was telling him he needed to hang up his mask permanently. He couldn't do that. 

He looked at the knife on his arm thoughtfully, he hadn't intentionally self-harmed since before the cave. But now, he felt a burning desire for the pain. He just looked at the knife for a minute and then moved it away and clicked it closed. No, this wouldn't do. He would just have to prove to Bruce that he was capable all over again. He pushed himself off the floor and wiped his eyes. 

It had been about thirty minutes but Damian was still sitting in his same spot. he looked at Dick and he entered and Dick smiled, it was a real smile. He picked back up his tea which had cooled in his absence and took another drink of it sliding back into his seat beside Damian. It didn't matter that Bruce didn't think he could be a vigilante anymore, it didn't matter that his adopted father had hardly talked to him in over a year, none of that mattered because he still had his brothers. In a way, he had lost his father and gained his brothers.  

Chapter Text

Dick clicked his pocket knife opened, then closed, and opened again. It was a thin pocket knife had was a black case and a red blade but no other design. Damian had given it to him as a birthday present a couple of years ago. Right now he was sitting on his bed in the manor clicking the knife and thinking about stuff, specifically the earlier conversation with Bruce.  

They had gotten back from patrol a little over an hour ago but DIck was still in his Nightwing uniform which was really just proving to rile up his thoughts more. Bruce called him not mentally stable. Dick clicked the knife opened again and dug the point into the pad of his finger, not hard enough to cut but defiantly hard enough to feel. He just looked at it, even since Bruce had said that he had been feeling the excessive need to hurt himself. Almost as if the prove his old mentor right, he hadn't done it though. He wasn't going to do it, he didn't want to do it. Still, he couldn't deny that the pulling desire was there, it had been there on and off since that night but he had been able to ignore it for the most part. But for some reason, Bruce seemed to be very very good at triggering it. 

He softly trailed the blade down his hand and to his wrist, he wasn't putting any pressure down it. It didn't even leave a red line, just a small scratching sensation. That was a mistake cause it doubled the masochistic desire to hurt himself, he dug the point of the blade into his wrist just as he did his finger. Enough to feel it but not quite enough to cut the skin. He knew he was walking a very thin line here, every time he did this he had ended up self-harming and he wasn't sure why he thought this time would be any different. He just really wanted to see the blood on his skin, as if it was some kind of crime scene to an invisible crime. 

His resolution from earlier, the one where he said he would just have to prove to Bruce that he was capable all over again was falling apart. He knew he was mentally stable enough to be on patrol, but then again was he really. Here he was sitting with a knife to his wrist, he dug it in a bit deeper still not cutting skin but coming farily close. He clenched his jaw his hand beginning to shake. He didn't want to do this, if he did this he would prove Bruce was right. Still, he couldn't find the strength to move it away from his arm. The voice in his head decided this was the perfect time to join in

"of course he's right, he knows exactually how much of a failure you are"

That was all DIck needed to make his decision. He hadn't heard anything from the voice in months and he wasn't about to let Bruce destroy his progress all over again. He grabbed the blade and moved it away from his wrist and clicking it closed. He stood up and walked out of his room and to Damians, Damian wasn't in there and that was what Dick had been hoping on. He sat the blade and his utility belt on Damians dressers, effectively removing all of his knifes and blades off and away from him. He wasn't going to hurt himself but he also knew his resolve wasn't exactly the strongest and he didn't want to tempt himself any more than necessary. Especially after what eh was planning to do. 

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Brue was in the cave just like DIck had expected him to be. He knew that Jason had already spoken to Bruce once but DIck wanted to do it himself. He already knew he wasn't going to like how this conversation went, and fully expected to come out of it feeling worse about himself. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to leave without saying it. "Bruce" He addressed solidly, trying to sound like he wasn't afraid. He was very afraid. Bruce didn't turn to look at him but his head raised slightly and DIck knew that was a sign of him paying attention. He also knew that was the only most amount of attention that he was going to receive so he set his shoulders back and took a deep breath. 

"I don't understand why you are unable to accept that I was raped" He forced his voice not to shake and he wished he hadn't noticed that Bruce had completely stopped typing on his computer.

"And I don't understand why you find it so hard to just play the role of a caring father for just once in your life."

He didn't pause because he knew if he stopped he probably wouldn't be able to start back up again.

"and I really really can not comprehend why you insist on tearing me down every time I start to feel okay again but I am done. I have spent my life trying to be enough for you but in reality, you are not enough for me, or for Damian or Jason or Tim. You have let every one of us down again and again and again and every time you do, you somehow make us believe that it is our fault. I don't know if you are just so deep in denial that you can't see what you're doing to this family or if you really are incapable of understanding that you are not the only one who suffers the consequences of your actions. Hell, maybe you just can't handle seeing your children be anything other than dark and brooding. I really don't know, whatever it is I am beyond over it. I'm not a Robin anymore, you can't take away my uniform and I won't let you govern my happiness. I know what happened to me wasn't my fault, if you choose to believe that or not, and If there is anybody in this house who is not mentally stable enough to be out on the streets every night it is you. I am going home tomorrow, Damian is coming with me. When you decide to finally be a father you are more than welcome to call."

He took a deep breath and stood there for a minute, he was kind of hoping that Bruce would say something but the man just went back to typing. Actually what Dick expected him to do. Dick just left the cave, he thought he would cry or breakdown after talking to Bruce but it just made him feel stronger. He was never going to let Bruce case him another sleepless night. 

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 Dick felt fine, he was a bit tired and a little touch-sensitive but otherwise he felt fine. He had managed to convince his brothers that he would be fine alone today. Yes, he knew today was the two year anniversary. Yes, he was sure he would be okay. Yes, he would call one of them if he needed anything. Convening them had been easier than he thought it would be, unfortunately convincing Wally was a whole other story. In fact, it was impossible. Wally insisted that Dick was not alone and Dick eventually gave in to the older man. That's how they ended up cuddled up on the couch watching TV. 

Dick was tired, he hadn't slept well the previous night. He just wanted to rest today and he was happy that Wally was more than okay with that plan. They had started watching movies not long after Wally had gotten there around noon, almost as soon as Dick got off of working the night shift, and they had just been watching them all day. Dick didn't want to admit it but he was starting to fall asleep curled up to the man. Wally was warm, he was shorter than Dick but still made a perfect big spoon. Dick curled into his chest and wally twisted his hair playing with it softly. It was comforting and calming all at the same time. It made Dick forget about his exhaustion and about bad things, bad things wouldn't happen to him as long as he stayed there wrapped in the speedsters arms. He fell asleep feeling safe and protected and warm. 

Tarantula was on top of him and he could feel her grinding against him, he tried to close his legs so she couldn't touch him but she was stronger and pushed them back open. She slid her hand under his uniform rubbing him. He tried to push himself into a sitting position to push her off but his arms didn't work and he ended up collapsing back onto the ground. He tried to close his legs again but she once again pushed them open and this time she lowered herself onto his erection. 

Dick woke up with a gasp. He was still on the couch, still wrapped up in Wally's hands. Wally's hands Not Tarantulas. He let himself relax back against the speedster who he could feel was vibrating. "You okay?" Wally asked running a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah" Dick assured "just a dream" he muttered and cuddled up closer to Wally soaking in the warmth. The roof was cold and hard under him, the rain was cold on his skin, but Wally was warm. 

This was the only place he wanted to be today, curled up to his best friend. He didn't want to deal with any other people, he didn't want to deal with anything else. He just wanted to stay curled up as close as possible to Wally. Every time he stopped concentrating on his best friend his mind would begin to fade back to the cold that was that night. Back to the red lips and brown hair, the hands on his chest, the ...

"Dickie, you're trembling." 

Dick flinches away from that name, it was the strangest thing. Sometimes that name was perfectly fine but sometimes it was a giant trigger. Right now it rested between the two of those things making him uncomfortable. "I'm just cold" he whispered and he did feel cold even though there was no good reason for him to be. 

He felt Wally tighten his arm and begin to vibrate producing more heat as well as pull a blanket over them. "Better?" Wally asked softly and Dick nodded. They both knew that the cold feeling was purely psychological but the extra warmth would help none-the-less. 

"Thank you... for being here" He whispered and he felt wally kiss the top of his head softly

"I'll always be here" Wally assured him and Dick believed it. This years anniversary had been leaps and bounds above last years and he was sure he would just continue to get better. 

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Rough Ages

Dick: 23

Jason: 21

Tim: 19

Damian: 13

Time is a strange thing, sometimes it drags and sometimes it flies. Things happen, people change, bonds are made and broken. Three years is somehow both a long ass time and almost no time at all.

Dick was working on some police files, sitting crosslegged on his floor. Tim was working on his computer on the couch behind him, Damian and Jason were across the room sitting at the kitchen counter tinkering with their respective weapons. Damian sharpening his favourite Katana and Jason cleaning his guns. Over the years they had started accumulating in Dicks livingroom even when there was nothing wrong. When there were no bad days or breakdowns. It wasn't intentional but it happened slowly and silently, they would all just end up there existing in each other's silence. It was nearing evening and the whole lot of them were soon going to head on patrol. They didn't patrol together but because Dicks apartment was right on the border of Bludhaven and Gotham it made a good central point for them to meet up before separating on their individual patrols. Tim and Jason in Gotham, Dick in Bludhaven, and Damian switching between the two as he switched between partnering with Batman and Nightwing.

Dick looked up from his files and to the others in the room, it was silent in there except for the sound of keyboard keys and metal on stone. Maybe that was why it startled him when he heard a sudden sharp and loud knock on the door. Everyone was suddenly staring at him as if they expected him to know who was at his door, he hadn't been expecting anyone. He almost ever expected anyone, his brothers all had keys, Wally, Barbra, and Alfred always just let themselves in (even though none of them had keys) so knocking on the door was rare. "I'm not expecting anyone" He spoke softly, it was a silent message for both Damian and Jason to lower their weapons behind the counter so whoever was at the door wouldn't be able to see them. Standing up from his spot on the floor he closed his police files, there was a small voice in the back of his head telling him not to open the door. He ignored it. 

 He wished he had listened because as soon as he opened the door he stumbled several steps back. He put his hand over his mouth stopping himself from making a sound. Standing at his front door was Catalina. She let herself in and Dick felt sick like he was going to throw up or pass out. He wondered if she knew it was less than a month from the third anniversary, he wondered if she planned this. He couldn't force himself to ask any of the questions, as his hand fell the only word his lips could form was her name. 

"Catalina" He whispered, he had imagined running into her on the street. He had always imagined how he would handle it but he had never imagined her showing up at his front door. 

"Hey Dickie baby" she spoke, her voice was sweet and thick and make Dick think of molasses. But also of dangers and he wanted to scream. His blood was rushing in his ears, he could feel the rain on his skin, the roof against his back. He could feel the bile in his throat and this all happened so fast he wondered if this is what it felt like when Wally ran. He saw her put a hand on his chest, he heard two chairs somewhere behind him scoot across the floor, he felt himself shoving her forward without even thinking about it. The next thing he knew he had her pinned up to the wall with his hand around her throat growing. 

"What are you doing here?" He was vaguely aware that he was yelling. He was even more vaguely aware that Damian, Tim, and Jason all stood somewhere behind him. He didn't care, his vision was beginning to blur with tears and he blinked them away. In all the time he imagines seeing her again it was always fear and sadness and sickness. Not once had he ever imagines this visceral white-hot anger that was flooding his veins. He never imagines this adrenaline and hate that pumped through his body. Catalina seemed to not be worried and reached up to touch his chest. Dick didn't flinch away, it felt like insanity had taken control of his entire body and he wasn't sure if he hated it or not.  

"Dickie, I wanted to see you, It been so long."

DIck growled and the hand he had placed on her was suddenly replaced with the sharp edge of his pocket knife. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't going to kill her, he would never kill anyone, but he couldn't deny the idea of blood running down her neck sounded damn appealing. "What's a wrong babe?" 

He growled again and pushed it harder against her neck until it began to bleed slightly. "Don't call me that, don't call me anything you fucking rapist bitch." Normally swearing wasn't Dick's think but right now he was so fucking angry he didn't care. Her face got all pouty 

"Now Dickie what are you talking about, I didn't rape you, you wanted me" Her voice was sickly sweet and it made Dick feel sick. He dug the knife deeper into his neck until she was bleeding more. 

"YOU FUCKING LYING BITCH" He screamed "YOU FUCKING RAPED ME AND LEFT ME FOR DEAD ON A FUCKING ROOFTOP" his hands were shaking so hard that his knife fell out of his hands. He shoved her hard into the wall trembling. He wasn't sure what happened next but next thing he knew Catalina was on the floor unconscious and bleeding and DIck was being held back screaming at her. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was saying. He was cursing her out in Romani and trembling and not thinking straight. He felt like he had gone insane. Like he wasn't in control of himself.   

 "LET ME GO" He screamed "I WANT HER TO BLEED, I WANT HER TO FUCKING DIE!" he fought against whoever it was holding him back. Through his rage, he could recognize that Damian was dragging her off deeper into the house, with his Katana in one hand. Tim was helping Damian drag her considering she was at least twice his side. which meant it was Jason holding him back. "JASON LET ME GO" 

"Dick calms down, Damian will take care of her. Trust me, you think you want it now but you don't. Trust me, I know you, you would never be able to live with yourself if you took her life" With Catalina out of his sight the temporary madness drained out of his veins and Jasons words took its place. He didn't come down off his high gradually like he normally did with panic attacks or flashbacks. With this, his high vanished all at once leaving him sick and weak. His knees collapsed under him and he went down, only being prevented from hitting the ground by Jason's arms holding him up. Jason moved so he was hugging Dick rather than restraining him. Dick leaned into him heavily, no wasn't crying but he was trembling in fear and pain and confusion.

Why had she shown up here? Would he have actually killed her? What madness had overtaken him so much he couldn't even remember how he had ended up being restrained and homicidal? He leaned even heavier against Jason feeling like he might pass out. He couldn't think of a time he had ever felt this unsteady and weak, even after panic attacks and nightmares he didn't feel this weak and vulnerable. He wanted to cry but he had no tears. He had nothing. Nothing other than his trembling muscles and confusion. There was a feeling blooming in his chest and he couldn't quite place what it was, it didn't feel like weakness. It wasn't the same sadness that he felt when Bruce had invalidated him, it wasn't the panic or depression he had grown accustomed to, it wasn't even fear. It almost felt like resolve. 

Dick heard the door open behind him, the bathroom door not the front one. "Todd, she is ready to be taken care of once it is darker."

It was Damian's voice, DIck just pretended that he didn't know what 'be taken care of' implied. He wasn't sure how he felt because he knew Damian and Jason would kill her. Jason had already killed Mirage and despite his attempts to hide it, Dick knew that Jason had been showering the streets trying to find her hiding spot. SHe should have just stayed in her stupid hiding spot. He felt another hand on his shoulder and another one on his back. Two different sized hands, two different people. Tim and Damian. He let out a dry sob. 

Damian should have been faster. Of course, he didn't know what Catalina looked like but as soon as Grayson had said her name Damian should have been at his side. Instead, he froze. He froze and before he even knew what was happening Grayson had he slammed against the wall. Screaming at her in a slur of different languages. It made him feel better only slightly that it seemed all of them had frozen. Nobody had moved from where they were, all watching the interaction occur. Damian had a million thoughts running through his head of what he should be doing but for some reason, his body wasn't responding to any of them. 

It wasn't till Grayson had pulled a knife on her and put it to her throat that the first of them moved. The first of them was Jason and seeing him move seemed to be enough to pull Damian out of whatever frozen stoop he had been in. It took them three seconds to get across the living room and to Grayson, it took Grayson two seconds to get her on the ground. Damian didn't have any sympathy for her but when Grayson threw her onto the floor Damian could hear how hard her head had hit. Hard enough that she was thoroughly unconscious and with how still she was looking she just as well could have been dead. Damian was sure that Dick would have pounced on her if Jason hadn't grabbed and restrained him.

Damian had seen Grayson fight and struggle many many times, but this was different. The restraint that Todd had him in was weak, something Grayson should have easily been able to get out of if he had been thinking straight. But instead, he was struggling wildly and like mad. Screaming swear words and obscenities in at least two different languages and the look he was wearing was something Damian had seen before. It was a look that was worn by somebody who had become so dead set focused on one thing they lost all reality of anything else. It was the look that both father and grandfather often wore. 

For some reason seeing that look on Grayson's face was terrifying. It made him look like he had gone insane. Even restrained her was fighting like crazy and spitting curses at her. Damian cautiously came up in front of Grayson and put two fingers to her throat, checking her pulse. It was there but it was weaker than it should have been, Grayson hadn't killed her. He looked up at Jason for an order, he couldn't figure out what the hell he was supposed to do here. He had never been trained for this. Jason nodded him toward the bathroom and Damian understood. Jason wanted him to drag her to the bathroom, he could tie her up in there till night fell and Red Hood could take care of her. 

 "LET ME GO" Dick continued his screaming as Damian began to drag the unconscious woman, Tim joining to help. "I WANT HER TO BLEED, I WANT HER TO FUCKING DIE!" Those words shot through him and he tried to comfort himself by saying that Grayson wasn't in his right mind. Grayson couldn't kill her could he, would he? Damian didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to question his brother's sanity or morals. Both were strong he was just in a really bad spot. He wouldn't kill anyone. As they walked away he could hear Jason speaking to Dick quietly, he couldn't understand what was being said. 

Tim helped Damian pick Catalina up and throw her in the bathtub. "Go check on them, I will take care of this" He barked, the look in Tim's eyes said he wanted to argue. But they both knew, Tim also was not a killer. They had discussed this, how it would go if they ever found her. Tim would help locate her Damian and Jason took care of the dirty business. Of course, they had never imagined her stupid enough to show up at his front door. With Tim gone Damian grabbed handcuffs out of the utility belt and cuffed her wrists and ankles leaving her unconscious in the tub. He carefully examined the injury she had sustained, it was bad. It Grayson had thrown her down with any more force if she had hit her head any harder than she did there as a chance. A good chance, he could have split her skull or caused a brain haemorrhage. Grayson wasn't a killer, not yet, but today he had come close. 

IT was almost amazing, this woman was far from intimidating. The fact that she had been the cause of so many panic attacks and nightmares over the last almost three years was astonishing. Though, he supposed, it wouldn't have mattered how strong or intimidating she was. Grayson had been in shock, in his state it wouldn't have taken much more than a large child to subdue him. At first, Damian hated to admit he even blamed Grayson a little. How had to be put himself in a position where that was even a possibility, but it took two days. Two days after that initial night for Damian to realize it wasn't Grayson's fault. He hadn't even been the one to put him in that position, it was Father who had forced that partnership onto Grayson. And it didn't matter if it had even been Grayson's fault because Damian was the only person who was allowed to hurt his brother. 

Damian stepped out of the bathroom where Tim was waiting for him. They both walked to the Livingroom, Graysons seemed to snap out of his maddened state and was trembling in Jason's arms. "Todd, she is ready to be taken care of once it is darker." He informed and put a hand on Grayson's shoulder. He had;t killed in almost a year, Jason hadn't killed in over six months. It didn't matter this woman was going to die tonight. 

Jason recognized that look immediately, he knew that look well, he had work that looks many times. That was the look of grief driven insanity. That was the look that was burned into Jason's brain as he stood here in this old abandoned Wearhouse with the woman tied up to a chair. Robin was sitting not too far from them, neither were wearing their masks not that it would matter she would never get the chance to tell anyone their identities. She would never get the chance to do anything ever again.

After Dick finally calmed down from his rage he wanted to be anywhere other than his apartment, so they took him back to the manor. Where there would be people to watch after he incases anything happened. Jason and Damian had been there with them for a while but after the sun had gone down they went back to his apartment and retrieved the tied up woman from the tub. She had woken up and Damian had knocked her out again. Now here they were, in an old Wearhouse where nobody would hear a thing, waiting for her to wake up again. 

She slowly blinked into consciousness and even before Jason could get to her Damian cam from across the room and dug his sword into her arm. He purposefully missed the artery. They would keep her alive until they decided it was time for her to die. They tortured her, Damian mostly watching, until Jason decided he had enough. Jason had tortured people before but it never really brought his sick pleasure, this brought him pleasure. It brought him happiness and joy to know that she was getting exactly what she deserved. Even if it wasn't what the law might think she deserved.

He had to admit, to himself of course, that he wasn't just getting revenge for what she did to Dick. He was getting revenge for himself against his rapists through her. He was getting revenge for every time he saw Damian sitting up in the middle of the night after having nightmares where Dick died. He was getting revenge for every time Tim had to switch up a self-inflicted (intentional or panic-attack induced) wound on Dick's arms. He was getting revenge for every sleepless night and nightmare that Dick had had and every sleepless night Jason had to stay up holding him. He was getting revenge for every lie and secret and fight and all the tears resulting from what she did. 

When they were done with her they just left her there, it didn't matter that they had broken their no killing streaks. Nothing mattered other than the fact she was dead and the only good rapist is a dead rapist. 

When they got back to the manor Dick and Tim where drinking coffee and cocoa. Dick was fine now, now that she was gone. Jason could tell, he could feel, that this wasn't going to be another major set back. No, this was going to be maybe another couple of rough days before they move on once again. Really what else is there to do after everything that had happened other than recover and move on.

 Alfred quietly let himself in the room without knocking. It was rounding three in the morning and all the boys had eventually fallen asleep in Dicks bedroom curled close together on the queen-sized bed. Dick was asleep on his side in the very middle and the bed and Damian was turned into his chest and curled up tightly in his arms. Tim was sleeping against Dicks back facing the opposite direction and Jason was asleep on the other side of Damian. Alfred smiled and started picking up cups of coffee and half-finished hot cocoa, the boys had fallen asleep several hours ago but Alfred had been cautiously awake just in case there were nightmares. He couldn't help but smile looking at the boys.

It was hard to believe that almost three years ago Alfred had been called by Jason in the middle fo the night. Jason who had been harbouring his traumatized and unstable brother trying to keep him from falling apart. It was amazing how much all of the boys had changed in those last few years. Dick had changed the most, that night he had been broken and hardly even recognizable. Now he was back to his almost normal self, he was joking and happy again. Damian had learned to even partially show concern for others. Even if it wasn't in the most conventional ways. Tim, in helping Dick through depressive episodes had learned how to take care of his depressive episodes in a more healthy manner. Even Jason who, while helping DIck, seemed to accidentally learn how to confront his past and put it to bed rather than just repressing it. 

Alfred would never say that this had been a good thing. He would never wish it on his grandsons, any of them, but it did happen and it had turned out for the better rather than the worse.

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Hey, thanks for reading this. If you like it please check out the 'recovery' series where I post spin-off stories and chapters that didn't quite make it into the main story.

If you want to see a chapter or event that didn't make it into the book drop it into the comment and I'll probably make a one-shot of it in the series.<br />
Please leave love and comments, this is the first thing I've ever done this long and with this much support.

I also have a similar story/series called secrets that you kighy like.