Chapter Text
It's not like he didn't want to just stand up and walk. He would give everything to just be like everyone else. To be able to wake up everyday without twisting in pain. To be able to run, and play fight with Tim. But no. Apparently God had other plans for him. Dick Grayson wasn't supposed to be able to fly. Maybe it was like Tati always told him: If he wasn't stuck in that chair, he would have been too great for humankind to handle? Or maybe not. Because Dick Grayson didn't feel accomplished or great . Dick Grayson felt completely and utterly useless.
Of course he hadn't always suffered from chronic pain. It hadn't really started before his seventh birthday. It was something off about that whole year, something that had bothered him for a long time. Why would a completely healthy and overly active child just wake up one day, unable to stand due to the pain it caused him? And why wasn’t there a single medical term that would actually explain his pain? They had just gotten the same diagnosis over and over again for the first two months: growing pains. But Mami and Tati knew. They had seen their son fall off the beams and just get back up without a single tear. They had seen their son break limbs but still put on a brave face so as to not worry them. Growing pains would not keep their son up crying all night. Growing pains would not stop their little bird from flying or at least standing. So they kept going to the doctors, refusing to accept the lazy diagnosis. The fifth doctor they had gone to had suggested the idea of a bigger underlying cause to Dick’s pain. She had taken them seriously in their worries, and given them a slither of hope in their uncertainties. After extensive tests she had ended up at the same stop as the rest. It was only so many tests they were willing to run without a great enough cause. But unlike the rest she didn't tell them that this was “just growing pains”. She had sat them down and explained her limitations as a pediatrician but made it very clear that she did not believe that this was growing pain. She had referred them to a colleague who specialized in chronic illness, also known as “the invisible illnesses”. After many many weeks of hospital visits and tests they had finally made a conclusion. Chronic pain, they called it. They claimed that he had sustained damage to the central and peripheral nervous system. Which was causing his immense pain and discomfort. Although an answer was nice, this wasn't what anyone had wanted to hear. It wasn't a formal diagnosis which made finding a treatment a lot harder. It could progress into becoming Chronic Pain Syndrome, or it could simply go away with age and physical therapy.
Dick had been admitted into a rehabilitation facility at the age of eight. There they had found medication that had helped with the pain- not taken it away, but made it manageable. He got taught how to use a wheelchair as well as getting fitted to one. They had wanted him to walk out of there, at least on crutches. But that didn't end up happening. Dick did manage to stand with the help of another person and strong painkillers, but leaning on crutches made the pain spread from his lower back and legs to his entire upper body. He had trained and trained, tried everything to get to a point where he could do more than take five steps with the crutches, but he didn't get there during that stay. However it had made him even more determined to one day get back to walking independently even if it made him want to scream in pain.
Eight years later and he was still stuck in that sinking boat, not being able to go a day without severe pain. His parents were dead, his dreams of becoming an acrobat long forgotten. Dick was living with Bruce Wayne the multi-billionaire, two older brothers (one of which was no longer living at home), a younger brother and a butler who was so much more. Damian Thomas Wayne, his oldest brother, was secretly his favorite the first year at the manor. Then Jason Todd came into the picture and ended up becoming Dick’s second half, with barely a year between the two. The three of them had ran the manor for years, being well known as the infamous Wayne-boys. Although neither Dick nor Jason got the Wayne name officially before Bruce had announced that Janet Drake, his then girlfriend, was pregnant. Little Tim Drake-Wayne had resulted in both Jason and Dick’s official adoptions and the added Wayne name.
Janet had bailed when Bruce proposed and no one had seen or heard from her since. Tim had just turned two at the time and used to stay up wailing for his mom. Bruce and Dick stayed up with him- Bruce because the toddler needed at least one of his parents there, and Dick because he was having a flare-up and wasn't able to get into a position that would relieve his pain enough to sleep. Jason had joined them on the third night, he had never said exactly why, but Dick thought it might had something to do with Jason feeling the pain of missing his mom, too.
The present day was looking a little brighter than what the last years had looked like for the Wayne-clan. Although Dick didn’t really feel that way. Damian was attending his third year at his dream college in Boston, majoring in economics with a minor in leadership. Jason was a senior at Gotham academy, haven gotten held back a year. Not that he minded anymore, he appreciated the opportunity to go to college at the same time as his younger brother. Jason was actually quite good at school, just struggling a lot with keeping his attendance and math grades up. Dick was excelling in his courses, but struggling to keep his addendece up due to both chronic pain and burnout. It had been a problem all year and it was starting to affect Dick in more ways than his school record. He was now constantly exhausted having used all his energy at recovering from frequent flare-ups, also it had made him start to lose his motivation for walking with mobility aids. It felt like every time he made some sort of progress, he lost it all due to a bad pain period or a flare-up.
Tim was on his way to turning four and was a happy toddler. The memory of his mom was most likely forgotten and he was thriving in his family. Bruce, now a single father of four, was devastated to watch Dick struggle. He had tried everything that money could buy in the beginning. Taking Dick to numerous facilities and doctors, trying to get better and more conclusive answers. They ended up exactly where they started and Bruce had lost all belief in the word “chronic”. Dick however had taken it like a champ, pretty much okay with his condition- like it was anything he could do about it anyway.
“Wait, wait, so all of them are equally large?” Jason asked, confused. The two halves (as Damian liked to call them) were seated at the dining room table, doing homework.
“No, their shapes are equal, not the size” Dick answered, not looking up from his own math-sheet.
“Well duh, Einstein. I see that that one is smaller, but why can I use the larger one to find the thing of the smaller one if they aren't the same?” Jason said, gesturing frustrated at the two triangles in his book. Dick looked up from his own book to meet his brother’s eyes. He was having a bad day today. Actually he was having a bad week. Everything ached constantly and he was so profoundly exhausted.
“The thing?” He said, smirking. He tried his hardest to act like everything was fine , that he wasn’t still recovering from the flare-up he had last month. He especially put on the act in front of his family, not wanting them to hover.
“You know the thing that has a very stupid name” Jason told him even more frusturated when Dick started smiling. “You know what, fuck you” Jason shut his book before he flipped Dick off as an added effect.
“Hey! stop that, I will help, okay? I’ll take it seriously, promise” Dick said, extending his pinky in a peace offering. Pain radiated through his shoulder when he lifted his arm, but he made sure to not let it be seen.
“Hell nah. I’m done, Nerd. Have fun with your math” Jason shoved his book forcefully across the table, putting as much distance between himself and the mathematical equations as possible. Dick rolled his eyes, giving one last look to Jason before returning to his own homework. It was a lot easier to focus when he could help Jason instead of doing his own homework. That usually offered a welcoming distraction from the immense pain he felt in his hips after sitting an entire day. Dick adjusted his weight on the old wooden chair, trying to find a more relieving position. He continued to focus on his homework, at least he tried to continue, but the growing presence of the pain in his hips made it hard to keep the numbers apart. Jason was scrolling bored on his phone, stopping every once in a while to like or read something. Dick tried to get back into his work-rhythm, and he managed for a little while to at least look concentrated. But in actuality he was way more focused on the throbbing sensation in his hips. He tried to stretch his back out slightly to see if it would help, which shocker- it didn't. Dick tried his hardest to draw his attention back to the textbook, but found it hard to get absorbed into the numbers. He shifted his weight again and again, desperate to remain concentrated enough to finish the last three equations.
“‘You good?” Jason asked. He was now looking at Dick instead of his phone, with one brow raised. Dick thought he had adjusted his position subtly but apparently not.
“Yeah, just…” Dick sat up straighter, finding little comfort in the change of position. “-unconcentrated” He said, not giving Jason much more details. Not because he had anything to hide, but rather because Jason already knew if he was asking, so he could safely save his breath.
“Well let's do something else then, so you can get more concentrated. ”Jason said, gathering up Dick’s thing. He put emphasis on the word ‘concentrated’, haven seen right through Dick’s act.
“Hey!” Dick yelped when Jason closed his textbook, successfully losing the page Dick had been stuck on for the last hour.
“Apapap! No touching. You should thank me, I'm cleaning up your mess for you. Besides we’ve been working for ages- I think Ms. Matthea will survive with you not doing extra credit this one time” Jason said before he continued to pack together their things.
“I didn't even reach the extra credit, yet” Dick mumbled when he pushed away from the table.
“Wait, seriously? I thought this shit came easy to you” That earned Jason a show and an eye roll. Although Jason was messing around, Dick saw the slither of worry that his brother’s eyes carried. ‘ Worry about him’ .
“It does. But I told you: I couldn't concentrate due to your obnoxious breathing” It wasn't the truth. Dick couldn't concentrate because it felt like he was banging his hips on cement every third second. Jason smirked before he flipped his younger brother off, yet again.
“I’m fucking starving” He said when Dick didn’t make any move to get up from the table. “You need to feed me before I die of starvation” Jason grabbed his stomach and made a big show of dying on top of the table. Dick appreciated the subtle attempt at a distraction that he offered.
“Meh, you’re the oldest. Bruce wouldn't blame me, neither would the cops” Dick told him, adding on a little wink. Jason grabbed his chest mock-offended.
“I’m betrayed! Never in the history of earth has there been such a great betrayal between brothers, between blood!” He put on an accent making a big scene out of his Shakespeareian looking act. Dick completely unamused, only lifted a brow in response to the shenanigans.
“‘You done?” He asked, when Jason continued to pose and “stab” his heart.
“Almost” Jason answered, breaking character for a second. He “died” one more time before standing up and saying: “Okay I’m done” Dick nodded only slightly amused. However it was short lived when he once again felt the strong throbs in his hips. Jason seemed to have noticed the little wince Dick must have given because he cautiously started to assess Dick with his gaze. “New plan. Let’s have it your way, your majesty. I’ll make food, you’ll lay down” Jason decided. When Dick still didn’t make a move to stand, Jason pushed the wheelchair closer with his leg.
“First of all-” Dick started to say while he moved his wheelchair into a better position. Jason offered his arm silently, which Dick gladly took while he stood up. “-How’s that ‘my way’?” Dick carefully straightened his back while Jason held almost all of his weight. Dick leaned even more on him when he felt his hips protesting. This was something they mastered many years ago- and it had only gotten easier as Jason now finally had gotten a few inches on Dick, and a lot more muscles from football. Dick winced when one of the vertebrae gave a satisfying but painful “pop”. Jason helped him sit down slowly before he let go. “Secondly, I don't need to lay down.” Dick said, now in slightly less pain due to the small relief of standing up but also sitting down again.
“Whatever you say, Goldie ” Jason walked past him, on his way to find something edible. Dick followed, having an internal laugh at how much food Jason ate now compared to when he was a scrawny little kid.
The kitchen wasn't necessarily what one would call wheelchair-friendly. But there was a cabinet Dick could reach, where they stored plates and glasses that he could use. Also all of the drawers were in a reachable height so he could manage if he really needed to. On his good days he could very well manage to help out by leaning on the counter and having a barstool to sit on.
Alfred entered the kitchen at the same time as them and eyed them knowingly.
“Are you in need of a ‘study snack’, or is this simply a way to postpone your homework, gents?” He asked, putting down the plates he most likely had collected from their rooms.
“Oh no, Jason has died of hunger at least four times during the last ten minutes” Dick said, referring to Jason’s overdramatized performance just a few minutes earlier.
“Very well then, but I want to see you both working while I make sandwiches” Alfred told them while he started to bring out different items needed to make their food.
“About that, we need a break. My brain can't physically process more numbers” Jason said while he got up on the counter. Alfred gave him a disapproving look, to which Jason responded by jumping off the counter again.
“Need I remind you that you also have geography homework, that doesn't involve numbers?” The all-knowing butler stated. Jason shrugged it off, taking a seat by the kitchen island instead. Dick considered moving over to a chair too, but decided to stay when he felt how reluctant his hips were to stand up at the moment. “The deadlines for your college essays are coming up. How are they going?” Alfred asked the two teens awaiting their food. Dick avoided Alfred’s eyes, opting for staring into the floor while he mumbled out a quiet “fine”. He could feel his stomach turning at the thought of college.
“How about you, Master Jason. I’m expecting your essay to not be late again this year” Alfred stated in that convincing voice of his.
“I’ve started… You know last year” Jason said while he gave the butler a small smirk. Alfred made a disapproving sound but didn't poke it further. “What are you writing about?” Jason asked Dick quietly when Alfred went into the cupboard to find more cheese. Dick pretended to not hear him, but Jason was persistent when he wanted answers. “Dick?” He said, dragging out the letters of his name.
“Okay fine, I haven’t started” Jason’s eyes grew large at this. His neutral expression turned into a huge grin. ‘ If he only knew’.
“Hang on a fucking minute! The Golden child hasn't started? I thought you would’ve had one prepared since like second grade” Jason stated, successfully making Dick regret his life choices. Jason continued to grin like a moron until he realized that Dick really, really didn’t find it funny. “There isn’t anything to worry about. You still have plenty of time” Dick knew that he tried to comfort him, but in reality it just made him even more stressed. Dick could feel his stomach protest the anxiety in his body, and his pain got suddenly very noticeable again.
“You know, I think I might go and lay down after all.” Dick said, sounding a little out of it. Jason jumped down from the island and approached Dick before he managed to ‘escape’.
“Are you okay? Do you feel sick? Do I need to get Alfred?” Jason asked with furrowed brows. He crouched down in front of Dick’s chair assessing his face.
“‘m fine” Dick answered before he released the brakes on his chair. His whole body was screaming at him to get the hell away.
“Hang on- talk to me. I’m right here. Is it pain?” Dick saw the way Jason’s eyes worried. He hated making people worry about him. He felt the pain from the whole week catching up with him, and that wasn’t just the physical one. Yes his hips and back were throbbing, but also the pain from stressing about his schoolwork, the pain of worrying about his college application and the pain that came from disappointing those he loved. But he couldn’t tell Jason all of that- he couldn’t make Jason worry even more than he already did. Jason spent enough of his time taking care of him, he didn’t want to add even more.
“Y-yeah” He croaked out. It was the truth. He was always in pain anyways, and it seemed to be getting a lot worse now too. The pain in his body only got worse when he was stressed, due to his muscles getting tense and tightening. Jason gave him a knowingly sigh.
“I’ll bring your food up along with a heating pad” Jason told him, standing up. “Call if you need help” Dick only nodded, too busy with getting away from the situation and his thoughts. His room was on the second floor but Bruce had gotten a ramp installed through a back entry when Dick first came to the manor. The only other time he had explored more than just the first floors with wheelchair access was when Damian had carried him on his back so he could see the whole manor.
Dick wheeled himself to his room, feeling the all too familiar feeling of uselessness. He couldn’t even find something significant to write about himself for a college essay. He hadn’t accomplished anything great . He hadn’t overcome shit. He was stuck in the exact same place he had been in for the last ten years.
He entered his room and closed the door tightly behind him. His back was aching and all he wanted to do was to lay down and cry. Maybe he should have listened to Jason earlier when he had suggested a break? Dick wanted so badly to relax, to let himself be consumed by the comforting darkness that sleep was. But it had been an eternity since he had been able to do that. There were two problems with that fantasy: He was almost never able to sleep through the night without waking up in pain (except from when he was doped down on sleeping pills) and if the pain didn’t keep him up, his thoughts did. He could be kept up by his spiraling mind for ages. He would go through every possible scenario of everything and he would end up feeling worried about everything. Especially college. College was this impossible nightmare that he sort of never believed would actually happen. And now, now he needed to put in the effort to make it happen. The thought itself scared him half to death. He hated being away from his family, feeling like everything was going to go wry when he was miles away. Having lost one family made him think the worst things about what might happen to his “new” one. Even being away from Damian for so long made him extra stressed. So how would he ever be able to handle college in a different state or city? Then it was the added stressor of his medical issues. He only seemed to be getting worse with the years, which made him worried about what might happen when he would get flare-ups at college, far away from everyone who knew how to help. How would he be able to get around in a completely new environment in a wheelchair? Would his college even be accessible? These were the thoughts that kept him up lately. They spiraled from the “simple” questions to the extremely big ones. An added bonus to all of his worries was that he had the very mundane issue of not having decided which major he wanted, or what colleges he even wanted to apply to. It was safe to say that Dick Grayson-Wayne was in deep shit, and no one knew.
He moved his legs off of the footrest, wincing at the uncomfortable pull it gave on his hips. He then braced his arms on the bed, ready to transfer. The transfer itself was simple enough, it wasn’t like his legs didn’t work or anything. But the increase of pain the transfer caused him was not that simple. He bit down hard, locking his jaw to keep himself from wailing in pain. Had he forgotten to take his painkillers this morning? Or was this simply the start of yet another one of his frequent flare-ups? Whatever this was, it wasn’t pleasant. Dick contemplated just staying in the half sitting, half laying position he was in, not really wanting to challenge faith when his pain was this bad. His back spasmed, making Dick gasp in pain. His eyes unwillingly let tears fall, and he again felt the uselessness feeling catch up with him. He was basically stuck. He couldn’t move without pain but he couldn’t stay in this position without pain either. It all felt so hopeless in this position. He at last opted for letting the arm supporting his weight go, making him fall ungraciously down on his bed. The move had successfully made his entire body explode in pain. Dick’s face twisted uncomfortably, his hands gripping the sheet in desperate search for relief.
A knock sounded from the door, but Dick was too engulfed in his pain to even notice.
“Shit” Jason said quietly. He put down the tray he was carrying and rushed forward to Dick. His hand ghosted over Dick’s arm, unsure if touch would make it worse. “Breathe, you’re okay” He soothed, trying to give his brother some comfort. Dick continued to lay still, only letting his face twist in pain. His cheeks were damp with fresh tears and his knuckles were white from gripping the sheet. Jason carefully put his hand down on the small of Dick’s back. Dick couldn’t decide whether or not it made it worse or better. He just knew that he needed everything to stop. The warmth from his brother's hand and the laying position ultimately made the pain die down to his regular throbbing. Dick opened his eyes in a gasp, meeting his brother’s blue, worried ones. “Hey there Cinderella. You didn’t tell me that it was this fucking bad” Jason said calmly. The frown remained on his face.
“‘Didn’t… know” Dick croaked out, hoping that Jason got the memo.
“Yeah yeah. Just focus on your breathing to begin with” Jason told him, disappearing for a short moment. Dick’s vision was blurry from the pain-attack so he didn’t manage to see what Jason was doing. “I’m gonna place a pillow under your knees… This is probably gonna hurt as fuck” Dick was about to protest when Jason carefully lifted his legs up from the floor and onto the pillow on the bed. The movement made another rush of pain shoot through Dick’s body, but the straightened, fully laid down position on his back helped a lot. “Is this okay?” Jason asked, worried that the movement made it a lot worse.
“Yeah. Thanks” Dick said carefully. Jason stood up again but this time he was headed for the door. “Please stay” Dick said. It scared him to be in this much pain. It felt like he was dying at the same time as he wished he were. It would also be extremely embarrassing to plead for his older brother’s comfort in any other situation, but that problem was for another day.
“Whatever you want, Dick. I’m just gonna call Alfred real quick” And so he did. It didn’t take long before the butler too had entered the younger’s room.
“Oh, my dear boy” Alfred stepped closer to Dick’s side. “It seems like you might have pushed yourself a little too far.” Alfred spoke softly, brushing some of Dick’s hair out of his face.
“I-I’m okay… I just need some sleep” Dick managed to croak out. It felt like a whole workout to just get his mouth to form the right words. His whole body was still throbbing without showing any sign of quitting. Alfred hummed in agreement while he pulled a blanket over Dick’s lanky form.
“Do you want to try some water?” Alfred asked after he had turned down the lights in the room.
“No thanks” Dick answered weakly. His stomach was already upset at the extreme pain radiating through his body, so he didn’t want to challenge faith even more than he already had.
“Okay then. Try to get some sleep and I will check on you shortly” Alfred told him in his kind, warm voice. He always spoke with such full words. It sounded like he put his heart into every sentence he uttered. Dick had always liked that about the man.
Alfred and Jason had a quiet conversation by the door to his room. Dick had been too out of it to really know what it was about, but he guessed it had something to do with him- considering the situation. The pain was starting to catch up with him again and he unwillingly winced in pain. The room was dark due to the dimmed lights, so he hoped that whoever that still was left in his room, hadn’t noticed.
“You know: sleeping is easiest to do when you actually close your eyes” Jason was the one who spoke, and the only other figure Dick still could spot. Dick didn’t answer. Instead he chose to listen to his brother’s stupid words and try to close his eyes. It wasn’t long until the darkness finally consumed him. It felt like heaven on earth after so many days without proper sleep.
However, heaven rarely lasted long for Dick. Before he had even managed to notice the wonderfully painless world that sleep was, he was awake again. He felt the deep pain in his bones and muscles slowly blossom underneath his skin. The more awake he got, the more awake the pain got. He must have groaned out loud, because suddenly there was some rummaging and soft whispers in the background. Dick wasn’t all too pleased with being awake, but his hopes of going back to sleep were lost when the pain in his body had made itself very much known. He blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark room. He turned his head towards the corner where the previous noise had come from. The form seated in his armchair was too big to be Jason or Alfred, and he knew that Damian was out of state, which only left one logical conclusion.
“Bruce?” He asked unsure towards the figure. His voice was raspy from sleep and the lack of fluids.
“Hey, chum” Bruce responded, carefully standing up and moving towards the bed. “You can go back to sleep if you want” Oh, how much Dick wanted to go back into the darkness, but he couldn’t. It was too late for that now.
“Can’t. Hurts” He had wanted to form fuller sentences but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. Bruce nodded knowingly before he stroked a hand over Dick’s forehead.
“You got it bad today, huh?” He said while he continued to brush his hand through Dick’s thick curls. Dick attempted to shrug but the pain it caused him made him regret that decision quite fast. “It isn’t just today, is it? I’ve noticed that you’ve been stressed for a while now. Want to tell me what it is about?” Bruce asked. Of course Bruce would have noticed that something was up. ‘Hell, all of them always did.’
“Not really” Dick didn’t meet his father’s gaze, rather opting for staring out into the empty, dark room.
“I might be able to help. At least help with carrying a little of your problems with you. You don’t have to struggle alone, Dick” Bruce sounded so sincere that it almost made Dick want to tell him everything. Tell him all about his deepest darkest thoughts about himself and his uselessness. Tell him about all of the horrible things he thought about when the pain got too bad. But most of all, tell him about his struggles with college. Dick would love to tell his father everything, to maybe even get help. But if he told Bruce, he would make him worry. He truly hated when people worried about him.
“I-I don’t want you to know” It might be the pain or the sleep-fog covering his rational thinking, but that was not what he had meant to say.
“And I’m going to respect that. But would you please tell me what it is about at least? I… I worry about you” Bruce said, momentarily pausing the hand that was still making its way through Dick’s thick locks.
Bruce worried about him… The one thing Dick had been trying to avoid. He couldn’t even manage to do that right.
“College” Dick let out in a quiet breath. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of him just by saying that one simple word.
“College? Oh, Dick” Bruce continued to brush his hand through Dick’s hair, loosening up all the little curls. “Is that what has been bothering you so much?” Bruce asked again. He spoke kindly in a way only a parent could, no hint of a condescending meaning present.
“It’s everything. It all hurts all the time . And everyone is talking about college, and I’ve never even wanted to go” Dick felt tears streaming down his cheeks again. Whether it was from relief or pain, wasn’t known. “I don’t even know why. It’s all just so much at once” Dick started to let out little sobs, not being able to bottle it all up anymore.
“shhhhh. It’s okay, you’re okay. We’ll figure it out, I promise.” Bruce had gathered up the teenager in his arms, holding him tightly while he cried.
There they sat for a long while. Dick finally a little freer from his mind and pain, and Bruce now less worried because he finally knew what was troubling his son. Even if nothing was fixed yet, they both felt okay at that precious moment.