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Batman had barely been quick enough to grip onto Robin’s cape, pulling him back hard.
The boy fell hard but he was up again in an instant, already barrelling towards the edge of the building again but this time Batman outright tackled him, careful never to put his full weight on the young vigilante.
Robin screamed but Batman kept him down, knowing the moment he let Robin go, Robin would try to jump again.
“Enough!” Batman roared.
Finally Robin stilled but Batman waited another moment, then a moment more, giving the young vigilante time to regulate and regain his senses before Batman at last pulled away slowly, letting him go.
Robin made no further attempt to throw himself off the building. Robin did not even attempt to stand at all, lying there shaking on the rooftop.
The silence did not last, the scream that ripped from the boy lancing straight through Batman’s chest.
Robin screamed again, tears pouring down his face.
“Robin,”
“I could have saved him!” Robin roared.
“He was already dead.” Batman said evenly. “And you used both of your grappling hooks. If you had gone after him, you would have-”
“I could have saved them!”
Batman crouched low but Robin flinched hard away from him, coughing harshly as more tears ran down his cheeks, unable to take in a full breath.
“Robin,” Batman murmured.
“I could have! I needed to save them! I needed to!”
“Robin,” Batman tried again.
But the poor boy was too upset, his entire body shuddering from the sobs.
“Dick.” Batman said. “I need you to breathe, Son.”
“You stopped me! You stopped me when I could have saved them, I could have saved them both!”
“Dick. It’s okay.”
The boy balled a fist but while Batman braced for an attack, the fist instead slammed hard into the rooftop. When he tried to do it again, Batman stopped him and another scream rang in Batman’s ear, a scream of pure anguish of a lost boy.
“Dick. Breathe, Lad.”
“I could have saved them!”
Batman came closer still and all at once Dick’s whole weight was slamming against him and Batman’s arms wrapped around him without hesitation.
“I’ve got you, Son, I’ve got you…”
Batman held him close as Dick screamed and sobbed and pounded fists against his chestplate. Even when Dick’s whole body jolted hard with a gag, Batman held him, talking to him softly, promising him that he had done everything he could, promising him that things were going to be okay.
Promising him that these feelings would pass, these feelings would pass but for now he was allowed to experience all of them.
Eventually Robin’s movements slowed, his hits weakening as his sobs petered out. He didn’t calm so much as he grew too exhausted to continue. It was only when Batman was sure that Robin was at no further risk of throwing up in his anguish that he lifted the boy fully into his arms.
Robin whimpered, head burrowing against Batman’s chest.
Batman did not fire off his grappling hook, knowing full well that the person Robin had nearly killed himself trying to save might be visible from the rooftops. He took the stairwell instead, moving slowly, murmuring to Robin to make sure the boy never felt alone at any point.
When Robin had stopped sniffling, Batman expected for his weight to change within his arms as he fell asleep but when Batman reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw that Robin wasn’t asleep.
His eyes were still open but even through the mask Batman could tell they were glazed over, the poor kid utterly exhausted. Batman fell quiet, though he still warned Robin just as they were about to reach the outside that things were going to feel different on street level.
Robin did not answer him, Robin did nothing but stare with unfocused eyes.
Batman ensured that they were at no risk of seeing the man on the street, having summoned the Batmobile to the other side of the building while Agent A had discretely contacts the police department about the victim.
When Batman tried to set Robin into the car, he expected the fight in the boy to return but Robin simply let himself be placed into the passenger side without issue, though he made no move to put his seatbelt on.
“Robin,” Batman said softly.
The young vigilante stayed exactly where he was, blinking slowly.
Batman did his seatbelt for him, making sure to move slowly just in case it renewed Robin’s panic.
Once Batman had him fully situated, he got into the drivers seat.
Robin still hadn’t moved from his place, his blinking slow even when Batman reached over towards him. Batman let his hand drop, never touching Robin just in case the boy simply needed time to process everything that had just happened.
They drove in silence and Batman found himself unable to stop from glancing over to the boy every now and then as if Robin might disappear completely if he looked away for too long. To Batman’s surprise, Robin still didn’t fall asleep even though he had been so upset there on that rooftop.
Batman still fully expected to need to carry Dick up the stairs to the bedrooms, like he sometimes did when Patrol accidentally ran too late.
Agent A had hopefully already grabbed Zitka for him, with Batman having debriefed as much as he could already just to streamline things.
As they were coming up to the Cave, Robin’s breathing was still the same breathing he had been doing since he somewhat settled. It was shallow, almost robotic, and when Batman glanced over towards him again, he found that Dick’s hands were loose beside him, still staring straight ahead.
“Robin,” Batman said.
Robin blinked slowly.
Batman refocused on parking.
The ever loyal Alfred was right there to greet him, indeed having brought Zitka down for a little while, but Dick made no move to grab the small toy from him.
There was a strict rule that Zitka was only allowed down here when Dick was in the infirmary recovering from injuries or illnesses after the last time he had a meltdown thinking that he had lost the elephant when she had accidentally fallen beneath the Batcomputer but Batman didn’t think that it was a bad idea to have her down here right now.
“Robin,” Batman said. “Get changed, Lad.”
Robin blinked slowly.
“Robin. Dick. Dick, can you stand up for me Son?”
When Dick made no attempt to get out of the Batmobile, Batman carefully picked him up. Knowing that he was simply tired and upset instead of injured, Batman took him over to the chair by the Batcomputer.
For the first time in history, Dick made no attempt to start spinning in the Batchair.
Tugging off his cowl, Bruce knelt down in front of his ward.
“Dick.” He said. “I understand that you wanted to save him, but what you tried to do was incredibly dangerous. You cannot go throwing yourself off of buildings, even if it is to go after someone, okay?”
Another slow blink, Dick’s chest barely moving in breaths.
“Dick. I need you to acknowledge that you could have gotten very hurt today.”
“Master Bruce,” Alfred said. “I believe that lectures can wait.”
“This isn’t a lecture.” Bruce snapped. “This is advice that must be followed if Dick would like to get back on patrols.”
Dick did not bolt upright at the thought of being benched, nor did he argue. He simply blinked slowly, breathing even more slowly.
“Dick.” Bruce said.
Bruce reached out but he never let his hand touch Dick’s cheek.
Dick hadn’t reacted at all to the movement.
Bruce leant back, then waved his hand in front of Dick’s eyes. While Dick blinked slowly, it was not in response to Bruce’s hand whatsoever.
“Dick, Lad. Dick?”
Taking Dick’s hands into his own, he asked the boy to squeeze them as tightly as he could.
For a moment, Dick did nothing at all. Then he blinked quickly and squeezed Bruce’s hands. His grip failed a moment later, his focus waning once more.
He wasn’t sick, but he wasn’t hurt either. While Dick had every reason to be upset, utterly helpless to save a man from falling to his death right in front of him after having seen his parents fall to their deaths just over a year ago, he had never been like this before.
Dick was being despondent.
No, it was more than that. Deeper than that.
Bruce’s heart rabbited in his chest, realising that the boy could very well be having an absence seizure.
“Dick.” Bruce said firmly. “Dick, I need you to stay with me.”
Clicking his fingers in front of Dick made little difference to the boy’s awareness and the longer it went on the more Bruce’s mind screamed at him about all the risks of absence seizures even though Dick had never once had a seizure in Bruce’s care and there was little they could do for him right now except maybe he needed medications, or a Doctor, or a Doctor and medications or or or-
“Master Bruce.”
Bruce waved Alfred off, his own breath catching in his chest as Dick continued staring straight through him.
“None of that, Master Bruce. This is not a seizure. I believe that it may very well be something entirely different.”
While Bruce had not said aloud his theory about an absence seizure, he found himself grateful for Alfred’s company all the same, the old Butler like a safe port in the centre of a hurricane.
If not an absence seizure…
Dissociation?
But Dick couldn’t be dissociating, he was only a boy and while seeing his parents die had absolutely been traumatic, he had never once gone into a state like this. At least, not that Bruce had ever noticed.
Bruce’s chest ached at the very idea that Dick was hurting and Bruce had been unable to prevent it.
Shuffling forward a little more, Bruce cupped Dick’s cheek and found that it was cold. He gently pulled the Robin mask away from Dick’s face, setting it to the side.
As Bruce expected, Dick’s usually exuberant blue eyes were dulled.
“Dick,” Bruce said. “Come back to me.”
Dick’s blink was slow, the old tear stains making him look ever more tired.
“Alfred,” Bruce said, voice straining. “What do I do?”
For once in what felt like eternity, Alfred seemed at a loss for words. The old man cleared his throat, brushing down his suit.
“I shall do my research, Master Bruce. In the meantime, I believe that the Young Master will benefit from gentle care from both yourself and Mistress Zitka.”
Alfred stepped forward, giving Bruce the elephant toy.
When Bruce pressed it into Dick’s hand, the toy nearly fell completely. At the last possible moment Dick’s hand shot out, catching her and all at once she was cradled close to his chest.
“Lad?”
Dick blinked slowly.
Bruce worked carefully to get Dick changed into some comfortable pyjamas, giving Dick every chance to pull away at any moment but the boy never did. It was only when Bruce tried to take Zitka again, if only for a moment, that Dick started fussing a little, new tears beading at the corner of his eyes.
They somehow managed a compromise, Dick letting Bruce take a sleeve off with Zitka held close with his other arm before swapping which arm was holding the toy.
Once Dick was fully ready to come up to the Manor proper, Bruce carried him carefully, not trusting him to fully walk right now. Then again, Bruce wasn’t really sure if Dick could walk at all. He was so out of it, his gaze distant, his arm loosely curling around Bruce’s neck.
“I’ve got you, Son,” Bruce said to him but was met with no reply.
Bringing Dick up to his bedroom, he expected the boy to fall asleep as soon as he was situated in his bed.
Instead, Dick just curled his knees up close to his chest, holding Zitka close as he continued to stare at absolutely nothing.
“Dick,” Bruce tried.
Realising that he had never cleaned the old tears from Dick’s face, Bruce made a start towards the door so that he could go to the bathroom. He stopped himself, realising that leaving Dick might make him panic more, but Dick did not so much as blink.
“Dick,” Bruce said. “I will be right back, okay?”
The blink was slow, the breathing slower.
As soon as Bruce was away from the bedroom, he moved quickly to get a damp cloth, not wanting to force Dick to be alone for any longer than he needed to be.
When Bruce finally returned to the boy’s side, he found that he had not moved whatsoever from where Bruce had left him.
As soon as Dick’s face was fully cleaned, he pulled away.
Dick blinked slowly.
“Get some rest,” Bruce said.
Dick made no attempt to fully lie down.
“Dick,” Bruce said. “Lie down, Chum.”
Bruce gave him a long moment for Dick to process the request but he made no action of it.
Instead, Bruce gently nudged Dick’s shoulder until he was lying down, knees still close to his chest, Zitka carefully protected in his arms. Dick’s blink was slow, those stunning eyes of his still clouded.
“Close your eyes.”
Dick didn’t.
“Dick.” Bruce said. “You need sleep.”
Dick’s blink was slow.
His breathing was far too shallow but as Bruce watched, a new tear rolled down.
“Rest, Dick,” Bruce said. “Everything will feel better in the morning, I promise.”
Dick did not sleep at all the entire night which meant Bruce didn’t sleep either. While Bruce had gone far longer without rest before, for some reason he felt even more drained just by virtue of watching over Dick waiting for him to start outright panicking or screaming again at any moment.
Instead Dick spent the whole night curled up just like that, his breathing shallow.
Bruce doubted that Alfred slept either, the Butler coming in frequently to check in on the both of them. Once Alfred realised that Dick wasn’t settling, Alfred tried to offer the boy some hot chocolate with all the marshmallows he could ever want but Dick had not so much as reached out towards it let alone get into a state where it would be safe to try to get him to drink it.
When Alfred instead tried to get Bruce to eat something, Bruce ignored the old man too, his focus solely on Dick.
Alfred, being Alfred, did not take no for an answer so Bruce ate a whole half toast before he pushed the plate far away from himself, his stomach rolling at the thought of something being genuinely wrong with Dick.
From the research Alfred did, there were a few ways to assist grounding those in dissociative episodes to the real world but they still couldn’t be completely sure that that was what was happening.
Bruce had even considered a head injury from when he had pinned Robin to the ground on the rooftop but he had been careful not to let his head hit anything at all.
It could also be an absence seizure after all but it had already gone on far longer than Bruce might have expected from an absence seizure.
“Watch him?”
“Certainly, Sir,” Alfred said.
It felt wrong leaving Dick’s room but Bruce did it all the same. He grabbed his phone, scrolling until he found Leslie’s contact. While it was nearly eight in the morning already, Bruce found himself hesitating.
This was his fault. He had allowed Dick to be re-exposed to his trauma and while Bruce would possibly have been able to save the man last night if he had been alone, he couldn’t have risked Robin falling from that height without anything to catch him.
Like so many other things, this had been entirely Bruce’s fault.
“Yes?”
Bruce had barely realised he had even pressed call until Leslie’s voice suddenly came out of the phone.
Stepping further away from Dick’s bedroom just in case the boy was still listening to stimuli around him, Bruce’s soul ached to be by his side instead.
“Leslie.”
“Bruce. You better not be bleeding out right now, I’m about to-”
“It’s Dick.” Bruce ground out.
“Dick’s bleeding out? I’m on my way.”
“No no, he’s fine,”
The line went quiet.
“He isn’t fine,” Leslie said. “What’s going on, Bruce?”
“I…” Bruce swallowed roughly. “Something is wrong. He got… Spooked last night, something like what had happened last year…”
Bruce didn’t want to say more than that but Leslie seemed to understand all the same.
“Panic attack?” She offered.
“No.” Bruce said. “It’s different. He was angry at the time. Furious. Terrified. Then he just… Stopped.”
“Stopped?”
“Something is wrong.” Bruce said. “We think that Dick might be… Dissociating?”
“Bruce,” Leslie’s voice had changed. “Is Dick in immediate danger right now?”
“No.”
“Then I’m on my way.”
“But your clinic-”
“I’m on my way.” Leslie said without room for argument. “Keep him warm and don’t leave him alone for any length of time until I get there.”
Before Bruce could even acknowledge the instructions, the line had already gone dead.
It took Leslie nearly an hour to get there because of the morning traffic but as soon as she arrived, Alfred went to greet her at the door while Bruce stayed right by Dick’s side.
“Dick,” Bruce said while they waited. “Leslie’s just going to check in on you, alright Lad?”
Dick did not answer him nor did he show any acknowledgement at all of Bruce’s presence.
Leslie talked to Dick during her entire assessment, warning him of every little thing she was going to do before she did them even though Dick showed no sign of actually hearing her. Grabbing a roll of bandages from the small kit that she had brought with her, she tossed it towards Dick.
Dick’s hand snapped out, catching it midair.
“Great job, Dick,” Leslie said.
Dick blinked slowly, not so much as grinning like he usually would at the praise.
When she finally pulled away, she glanced at Bruce then tilted her head towards the door.
He got there before she did, though he was hesitant to let Dick out of his sight fully.
“I’m not a psychologist,” Leslie said. “But I do think that Dick’s dissociating right now.”
Bruce barely registered her words, remembering again and again how this had been all his fault. Dick looked to him for protection and in the process of trying to protect him tonight, Bruce had pinned the poor boy to the ground and made him so scared that he had retreated into his own mind.
“As far as we know,” Leslie said. “This may be his first episode but given all that he has been through, it’s possible that there have been other times where he was dissociating and no one noticed that he wasn’t fully there.”
New guilt tore Bruce apart.
“None of that.” She said firmly.
“None of what?” Bruce echoed.
“You’re spiralling.”
“He is in my care to be safe.”
“He is safe.” Leslie said. “His body just doesn’t realise that right now. Give Dick time, and a reason to come back. It might be instantaneous, it might take a while. It’s very hard to predict this sort of episode.”
“And there isn’t medication to snap him out of it?”
“I don’t think we’re at that point just yet, especially given Dick’s age we should be careful. For now making sure he feels comfortable will be our best plan of action. If the state persists, we can look into larger interventions.”
Bruce looked fully towards Dick once more.
He was just a boy, a young orphan that had watched a man fall to his death last night and had nearly thrown himself off that very same building in order to try to save him.
Just a boy who last year watched as his beloved parents fell to their deaths right in front of him.
When they were back in the bedroom, Bruce went at once to Dick’s side but Dick showed no acknowledgment of his presence or indeed that he had even been gone at all.
“Alfred,” Leslie said. “Can you please get an ice pack? The cold might help him to come back. Do you have any weighted blankets at all?”
“No.” Bruce said. Then he reconsidered. “My cape…”
“That will do.” Leslie said. “It will good to have the familiar warmth too. I’m glad to see Zitka’s looking out for you, Dick, she’s a very good friend, isn’t she?”
“Friend.” Dick echoed.
Hope surged in Bruce’s chest but when he looked for any sign of awareness in Dick’s eyes, he found nothing.
Bruce hesitated to leave Dick yet again but as soon as Alfred returned with an ice pack, Leslie instructing him to set at least one of Dick’s hands against it with the protection of a tea towel, Bruce knew that he would need to go back down to the cave to get Batman’s cape.
“I will be back, Son,” Bruce promised Dick.
Dick’s blink was slow, so close to Bruce and yet so far away.
Bruce moved as quickly as he could, mind replaying not only last night but that terrible night back at Haly’s Circus too. Dick had been younger than but he had still looked just as broken as he did now, watching the blood pool beneath his Mother and Father.
More memories threatened to take over, memories of alleyways and blood stained pearls, but Bruce did not let them fester. This was about Dick, not Bruce.
As soon as Bruce got the cape from downstairs, he was rushing back up again so that he was away from Dick for the least amount of time possible. Once again Dick didn’t seem to have even noticed that he was missing in the first place, having remained unmoving from how Leslie had assessed him with the exception of the ice pack now beneath his hands.
Bruce let Leslie be the one to nudge Dick gently until he was fully lying down again, keeping him on his side just to make him more comfortable, the ice pack still one of his hands for now with Zitka held close to his chest with the other arm.
Dick’s blink was slow, his breathing slower.
Carefully, so carefully, Bruce set his cape over Dick.
Dick’s eyes widened for a moment, and Bruce went to rip it back off again, but then he was burrowing into the warmth. At long last, Dick’s eyes slipped closed, his breathing fully evening out and becoming deeper as he fell asleep.
“It’s progress.” Leslie said before Bruce could point out that he hadn’t yet fully come back into himself. “Let him rest. We’ll remove the ice in another fifteen, but it obviously didn’t work nearly as well as the cape did.”
“Something is still wrong.” Bruce insisted.
“Bruce,” Leslie said. “Dick has been through a lot in his short life, he’s allowed to have off days.”
“But if he was dissociating then he could still be in that same state and-”
Dick hummed in his sleep, curling fully into himself and hugging Zitka with both arms.
Bruce’s soul ached to be closer to him just to make sure that he was fully okay but given that this whole situation had been Bruce’s fault, he restrained himself.
“Once he’s rested,” Leslie said. “Then we will reassess. We can work out if this sort of event has happened before, we can confirm with him that he feels safe with your cape.”
“Reassess.” Bruce echoed. “This could… This could happen again.”
“Yes.” She said simply. “But we will reassess. See what helps. See what doesn’t. See what might assist in reducing the frequency and severity of any dissociation. I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Bruce, while dissociation is very common with people with severe trauma, it is still a serious event. There won’t be a simple fix to this. Dick is going to need you, the both of you. He’s going to need a support system.”
“The Young Master shall have all the support he may need.” Alfred said. “And then some.”
“I need to get back to my clinic,” Leslie said. “But I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t hesitate to call if there’s any changes. When he comes out of it, if he hasn’t already, he will most likely be exhausted and confused. He may even lash out, or he may go on as if nothing had happened at all.”
As if Dick knew that he was being spoken about, he hummed once more, nestling further into the cape.
“I’ll order a weighted blanket right now.” Bruce said.
“Just stay with him for now.” Leslie reminded.
Bruce’s jaw tightened.
“Of course.” He managed. “Thank you, Leslie.”
“Anytime. Especially for Dick.”
It was a solid six hours before Dick woke up and just like he would usually wake up in the morning, he had bounded up and was out of bed even before Bruce realised that he was stirring, his bright eyes bright as ever.
The brief confusion over why Bruce was right by his bedside was shook away and replaced with a wide grin.
“Hiya B!” Dick said.
“Dick,” Bruce said.
“Yeah, B?”
“Are you… Okay?”
Dick’s grin faltered.
“Oh.” Dick mumbled. “I…”
Dick’s eye lids dipped a little bit but before he could fall too far back into his own mind, Bruce cupped his cheek. Dick blinked quickly, sitting up fully straight.
“I’m fine.” The boy claimed. “Let’s go on patrol.”
“It’s the middle of the day.” Bruce said.
“But I… Oh.” He was blinking strangely again.
Dick shook his head head and the last of the darkness from his eyes disappeared once more.
“I’m fine.” He said. “Can we patrol anyway? I wanna go help people.”
“Dick,” Bruce said. “I don’t think you should patrol for a little while.”
“Because I couldn’t save him?” Dick snapped.
“What happened last night was not your fault,” Bruce said firmly. “But you do need to keep your emotions in check more.”
Dick’s head ducked low and Bruce cursed himself.
“I only mean that-” But Bruce stopped himself and took in a steadying breath. “Do you know about something called dissociation?”
Curiosity won out over Dick’s anger and he tilted his head.
“Like companies breaking up or whatever?”
“No.” Bruce said. “Like when the brain tries to protect itself by going away for a little while.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Dick said. “The brain can’t go anywhere. If your brain went on a holiday, you’ll probably die. Unless you’re Lex Luthor. I don’t think he has a brain. Well, he is actually smart in a very dumb- I’m focusing, promise.”
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Maybe not brain,” Bruce said. “Mind then. The mind goes away for a little while to protect itself.”
“Like… Zoning out?”
“That’s a very good way to describe it.”
Dick shifted on the bed. As if only just realising that Zitka was now teetering on the edge, he brought her back to his chest. When he realised that the cape was on the bed too, he glanced at it but while his hand had initially reached for it, he stopped himself for some reason.
“I’ve been doing some research.” Bruce said. “And there are actually a few different types of dissociation and-”
“Bruce.” Dick said softly. “Why are you talking about this?”
Bruce opened his mouth. He closed it again, unable to find the words.
“What do you remember about last night?”
“I failed.” Dick said, glancing away. “I got upset. I woke up here.”
“When you got upset,” Bruce said. “Do you remember getting back home?”
“Of course.” Dick said all too quickly. “I know I’m a kid, B, but I’m not that dumb.”
“It isn’t about being dumb.” Bruce said. “It’s much more than that.”
“I don’t like this.” Dick said. “You’re being weird.”
“Dick. Please just… Just listen to me, Lad. Last night you got very upset. You got so upset that your mind went away for a little while. To protect itself.”
Dick shook his head. He curled tighter, keeping Zitka close.
“I’m fine, B.” He said.
“You are fine.” Bruce said. “But last night, you gave Alfred and I quite a fright. Of course you have every right to be upset about what happened during patrol, but your reaction to it was very serious. It could have been very dangerous if I was not right by your side.”
“I’m not stopping patrols.” Dick snapped.
“Dick,”
“No.” Dick said firmly. “You said I can be Robin. You can’t bench me now, not with the excuse that I ‘got too upset’.”
“Dick, you were dissociating. You weren’t aware of anything that was happening. That kind of episode can be very dangerous.”
“Fuck you.”
“Language, Dick.”
“No.” Dick snapped. “Fuck you. You’re saying I didn’t know what was happening, you’re lying.”
“What did Leslie put against your hand then?”
Dick’s mouth opened. He closed it again. Shifting uncomfortably, he glanced towards the cape as if wanting to wrap it around himself again. When he didn’t, Bruce reached over to it and grabbed it, wrapping it tightly around Dick’s shoulders.
Relief crashed into the boy, most of him disappearing into the fabric.
After several moments of quiet, Dick finally broke it again.
“Leslie was here?” He croaked.
“Yes.” Bruce said.
“But I’m not hurt.”
“Not physically.” Bruce said. “But like I am trying to tell you, your mind tried to protect you by going away. You went into a dissociative state.”
“Dissociative.” Dick fumbled on the the word a little. “But I’m fine. I got a little upset, that’s it. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
“Dick. This is serious.”
“I’m fine.” He claimed yet again. “I… Need to be fine.”
“No patrol.” Bruce said. “Just for now. Just until we can make sure that this doesn’t happen again. Do you remember how when you first came to me, you were seeing Dinah?”
“I don’t need a shrink.” Dick said, voice scathing.
“It might help.” Bruce said.
“You’re saying that I’m crazy.”
“I’m saying that you got very scared last night, scared enough that your mind switched off. Please, Dick, please try to understand why that could be very dangerous.”
“I can handle myself.” Dick snapped.
They weren’t making any progress at all, Bruce realised. He leant back with a sigh.
Dick ducked his head then, curling tighter into himself.
“Leslie was really here?” He asked quietly. “And I… I was zoning out? Bad?”
“Yes.”
“Everything’s still a little… Fuzzy.” Dick said. “Is that because of it?”
“Most likely.” Bruce said.
“Oh.”
“Do you like the weight?”
Dick blinked, then again, not understanding.
“Of the cape.” Bruce said.
Dick shrugged.
“Less the weight.” Dick said. “More the fact that it’s-”
But then Dick’s eyes widened and he stopped himself.
Just as Bruce started to fear that he might be slipping into another dissociative episode, Dick bit his lip hard, mumbling something.
“What was that?” Bruce asked.
Dick repeated himself, no more clearly than before.
Finally realising that Bruce still didn’t know what it was that he was saying, he spoke loudly and clearly and with far more anger than Bruce thought was necessary.
“It’s yours, okay, I like it because it’s yours.”
Bruce floundered for a long moment, then spent even longer trying to formulate a response only to find that he couldn’t. Instead, Bruce stood from the chair that Alfred had brought in hours ago.
Dick’s gaze was locked on some arbitrary spot on the ground but he stiffened as if expecting Bruce to walk fully away because of what he had said.
Instead, Bruce sat on the edge of Dick’s bed. He tugged Dick gently, the boy barely taking even a moment before he was crashing up against Bruce’s side, burrowing against his warmth.
“I am sorry for what you saw last night,” Bruce said. “But it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have saved him.”
“You could have.” Dick whispered. “If it weren’t for me.”
“Maybe.” Bruce allowed. “But we will never know. The one thing I do know, is that I am glad that you are feeling a little better today.”
“Dinah… She was really nice.”
“She is really nice.” Bruce said. “She helped you with your nightmares, and she might be able to help you with this too.”
“I don’t like feeling fuzzy.” Dick said.
Bruce forced himself not to react outwardly to the words.
“Have you felt fuzzy like this before?”
Dick shrugged non-commitidly but then burrowed closer against Bruce’s side.
“We will take it slow.” Bruce said. “But for now, how about we go get some lunch? I’m sure Alfred would be happy to see you back with us.”
Dick’s nod was slow and he was even slower to pull away from Bruce fully.
“There’s a good Lad.” Bruce said.
The boy’s grin was strained, dropping far too quickly. He was still tired, especially knowing that he wasn’t going to have a chance to shove this fully away and pretend that nothing had happened.
A part of Bruce wanted to act as though nothing had happened too but he knew that it wouldn’t do Dick any good. He has been through so much already, Bruce did not want to bring more attention to this new development more than necessary.
But when Bruce took Dick in it was to help him, to channel his energy and grief, to make sure that he never felt alone. Dick would not be alone, not in his grief and not in this either.