Chapter Text
“Hey hey, shh…”
Jason screamed again, writhing in Dick’s arms.
“I know,” Dick mumbled. “I know but it’s not real, it’s not real Jay, just come back to me.”
There were nails digging into Dick’s arm but he ignored the pain, doing everything he could to soothe his little brother as Jason screamed again, his whole body shuddering.
“It’s okay Little Wing, shh…”
Jason’s legs kicked out hard but Dick held him close, running fingers through Jason’s hair in an attempt to ground him in reality but the drugs coursing through his system were stronger than anything Dick could do. Jason was too far gone, but without access to an antidote, they had no choice but to wait it out.
Another scream echoed in Dick’s ear, Jason’s nails digging deeper into Dick’s arm.
Dick just tugged Jason closer to him, pressing his back against the door in order to steady himself as Jason started fussing more.
“Come back Jay, just come back. I’ll keep you safe this time, I promise, but you need to come back, Bud.”
All that answered him was another scream.
Dick closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe in deeply and evenly, giving something for Jason to follow even though Jason was too stuck in whatever horror he was experiencing to be able to notice, let alone follow the breaths.
“I’ve got you,” Dick promised. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
At last Jason’s struggles lessened, finally exhausting himself after fuck knows how long, but even though Dick was relieved to see him calming somewhat, he found that he was almost waiting for Jason to freak out even more, waiting for fists to pound against his chest or a knife to dig into his throat or any other terrible pain to be inflicted by the monster in his-
Dick steadied himself.
That wasn’t fair.
Jason was scared. He was scared and he was vulnerable and his body was experiencing things that it never should have to experience. It wasn’t fair to expect Jason to hurt Dick, but even if Jason did hurt him it would have been understandable.
Jason was not in control right now.
He was not a monster, he was just a scared boy who had been through hell only to be dragged back to life and subjected to even more hell.
He was not a monster, he was a brother.
But Jason’s nails dug deeper into Dick’s arm, drawing blood, and for a single terrible moment Dick hated him. It was terrifying, that revelation, and it should have never been an option in the first place.
Dick had better things to be doing except hold a shaking man on the floor of a bathroom.
He had things to do, people to see, a life to live outside of Fear Toxin and brothers with so much blood on their hands that they could never be washed clean.
Jason whined loudly, curling against Dick and everything in Dick told him to push Jason away.
Told him to shove the damn murderer away from him and leave him to rot in the memories that plagued him.
Dick’s heart rabbited in his chest.
This was Jason. Sure, he’d made mistakes, he’d hurt people, he’d killed people, but this was Jason.
Dick loved Jason. He wanted Jason to be okay, he needed Jason to be okay, except Jason was always a self absorbed asshole who made everything about himself and-
And Dick was shaking his head hard, trying to clear it.
Jason trembled, the pathetic shit that he was. Dick shoved him away, irritated as Jason let off another ridiculous sound.
At once Dick took Jason back into his arms, holding him close, soothing him as he sobbed.
“I’ve got you, shh, it’s okay Jay, I’ve got you…”
Jason sobbed openly into Dick’s chest, curling into him.
He was a grown ass man, he shouldn’t be-
Dick blinked hard.
“It’s not real, Jason,” Dick said.
Dick’s care for Jason had never been real. Jason was little more than a street rat that had stolen one of the only things Dick had left from his parents, he had stolen Robin and he had stolen-
“It’s not real.” Dick said, gritting his teeth.
Jason had not stolen Robin.
Sure, it hadn’t been Dick’s choice to have Robin become a mantle to be passed on instead of an identity that was his and his alone, but Dick didn’t hold that against Jason. Not anymore. Jason had grown into himself, or at least he had been growing into himself and defining himself as something unique to Dick’s tenure as Robin before Joker had killed him.
Robin was more important than Dick had ever realised, and he was beyond proud of how Jason, Steph, Tim and Damian had represented the precious name.
Liars and monsters, the lot of them.
Jason was a pathetic piece of shit who thought that just because he had been brought back from the dead, that he would ever be anything more than a fucking street rat.
Steph was as useless as she was irritating, constantly talking and moving and thinking that people actually liked her instead of simply tolerated her.
Tim was a fucking know it all stalker who never-
Dick bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, focusing on that sensation.
He held Jason ever closer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as Jason trembled.
Jason was brave but he was kind too.
Steph was resolute in everything she did, rising above what her Father had ever thought her capable of.
Tim was brilliant and constantly sacrificing himself for the sake of others even though he had been working so hard to look after himself too not just other people.
Damian was-
Damian was a little brat who was as worthless as the rest of his damn cult. He was nothing but a murderer and-
Damian was a boy who was trying to do better. To be better. A boy who had been raised under incredible abuse but was still resolute in his mission to help people, not wanting anyone else to suffer.
Jason fussed but Dick was quick to soothe him, relieved that he was finally calming.
Jason’s head drooped, close to falling asleep, but Dick shoved him off of him, standing up before the pathetic shit had a chance to cuddle up to Dick again.
Red rimmed eyes blinked up at him, a tear slipping down Jason’s cheek as if that would summon some ounce of underserved pity within Dick. Jason reached out like some touch starved toddler but Dick kicked him hard in the ribs.
Jason jolted forward with a gasp but Dick had already turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him.
Dick made it all of three steps before he was rushing back to the bathroom, stumbling over apologies as he tugged a sobbing Jason back into his arms, rocking him gently and promising that he wasn’t going to leave, he was never going to leave again.
Jason just sobbed harder because he was a pathetic little…
The rising sun was glittering against the buildings that surrounded him, Dick’s hanging off the edge of the rooftop.
It was warm here, sweat dripping down his face no matter how many times Dick tried to wipe it away. Dick’s hands were… Shaking?
He stared down at them, willing them to still but they wouldn’t. The fabric of his suit was the wrong colour. This wasn’t the Robin suit, this was different. The Robin suit did not look like this when it had blood on it.
There was blood on his suit.
The revelation should have scared Dick more than it actually did but honestly speaking he couldn’t really bring himself to care.
There was something important that he should be doing, except none of that actually mattered. It never had. Nothing mattered, not since he had seen that rope snap, not since he saw his Father’s body hit the ground, not since he watched his Mother take her final breath.
Nothing mattered.
Even the name Robin no longer mattered, covered in blood as it was.
Dick’s head was spinning, body tilting forward as new sweat coated his skin.
“Nightwing!” A voice rang out, echoing in Dick’s head. “Get away from the ledge.”
Dick did not bother to turn to the voice, watching as the rays of sunlight slowly shifted. As disgusting as Gotham was, the sun never quite looked right. Everything here was always draped in shadows, the whole damn city was nothing but a writhing mess of corruption and drugs and blood and…
And people who were just doing their best, people who went on with their lives despite the risks, despite everything they have been through because life is worth living.
His head dipped, everything spinning.
“Nightwing.” The voice was closer now.
Young, whoever it was.
“Away. From the ledge. You’ve been dosed with Fear Toxin.”
There was nothing to fear, not when you didn’t care anymore.
Her Little Robin had been corrupted too, by this city, by the man who claimed that he was a guardian even as he let children fight in an unwinnable war.
“Nightwing.”
The voice had changed, becoming tighter.
“Whatever it is that you’re seeing, it isn’t real.”
Nothing had ever been real.
“Nightwing. You need to come away from the ledge. Let’s talk, just you and me.”
Nightwing.
The name was unfamiliar, if it was even a name at all.
Dick wasn’t Nightwing. He wasn’t anything but a blood soaked Robin who had been clutching onto hope of a better world in desperation, hope that seemed ridiculous now.
“Dick. Please.”
He hadn’t realised that he was leaning more forward but now that he was near tipping off the edge, he wondered why he shouldn’t just finish the job.
“I have the antidote. You just need to come away from the ledge and I can give it to you. Everything’s going to feel better, I promise, but you need to come away.”
Dick titled his head back, seeing a boy in a uniform that should have only ever belonged to Dick.
He launched up to his feet, seeing red as he threw his entire weight against the imposter but the false Robin had brought his arms up to his face before Dick’s fist could even connect. The false Robin rolled, forcing Dick to move with him but when they tried to pin Dick’s hands to the ground, he kicked up hard.
To the fool’s credit, they didn’t falter, holding fast.
“Dick.” He said firmly. “It’s me. It’s Tim. You know me. You know that-”
Tim’s breath caught as Dick jabbed a finger hard in between two ribs. He faltered just long enough for Dick to throw him off completely and the boy was rolling but he was up on his feet again just as quickly.
Dick reached for a batarang only to not find one. Instead there were two weapons on his back so he grabbed those, slamming one into Tim’s chest except Tim mitigated the blow, knocking the escrima to the side with a bo staff that Dick didn’t remember him even deploying.
They exchanged hits and the boy was faster than Dick expected him to be, unless it was Dick that was slower, his vision blurring as new sweat poured down his face.
It really was hot out here, but that hardly mattered because Dick was rushing forward, hitting his enemy hard in the leg with one escrima while the other took advantage of the distracted and collided with the side of Tim’s head.
Tim staggered but he corrected quickly then he stumbled again, a shaky hand raising up to his head.
“Dick.” Tim said. “It’s me.”
Dick dropped the escrima and rushed for his brother, desperate to make sure that he was okay except this wasn’t a brother, it was an enemy, and enemy who was on the ground now as Dick’s fists collided again and again and again with his face.
Tim tried to roll again, tried to get Dick off, but he couldn’t.
His struggles slowed, hand tapping uselessly on Dick’s thigh, so Dick started hitting harder.
Instantly Dick was off of him, scrambling back as his heart beat hard against his chest.
“Red Robin! I, I didn’t- Tim I didn’t mean. Fuck, are you okay?”
“Ff… Fine.”
Tim’s hand shifted, going for one of the pockets on his suit, no doubt reaching for the antidote to the-
The enemy was reaching for a weapon.
Dick grabbed the enemies own staff, digging the end of it into his gut.
The enemy roared in pain, hand dropping away from the pocket. Dick slammed the staff down again, letting the scream echo in his ears.
Tim coughed hard, red spraying from his mouth and Dick dropped down onto his knees, taking Tim into his arms and cradling him, hushing him as Tim wheezed, smoothing down his hair as he shuddered.
“You’re safe,” Dick promised him. “You’re okay Tim, everything’s okay, I’ll stop them. I’ll keep you safe.”
Tim tried to speak but whatever it was he said, it was lost as Dick’s hand wrapped around Tim’s throat, fingers digging in and-
And he was sitting on the docks.
He was sitting on the docks and he felt wrong.
He felt empty… Like he was nothing.
Like he was…
Dick’s hands were coated in blood but when he scrubbed it away in the water, the blood stayed with him.
The blood was him.
He was the blood.
And… And the world was spinning.
The world was spinning and he was covered in blood and there were people he had hurt, people he cared about, except there was no one he cared about, no one at all.
Dick tugged his hair but it did little to ease the pounding in his head, nor did it rid him of the blood.
So he threw his head back and screamed.
He screamed and he screamed and he screamed and it did nothing at all. It did not ease the weight in his chest, it did not make the world stop spinning, it did not wash away the blood of his brothers from his soul because it hadn’t just been Tim, or Jason.
Dick had hurt Damian too.
Dick had taken one of Damian’s own blades and wedged it deep into his chest.
He had hurt his brothers.
He had… Had killed his brothers.
They were not brothers, Dick did not have brothers. Danny Zucco had taken away any chance that Dick would ever have a family again except he did have a family, a family that loved him, a family that were no doubt terrified for him.
They should be terrified of him.
Everyone should be terrified of him.
Dick hung his head.
Something was… Wrong.
Something was…
“Nightwing.”
The voice was different from before. Older, but no less cautious.
“I killed him.” Dick said simply.
“Nightwing,”
“It wasn’t even that hard. I just took his knife and plunged it into his chest. It should have been harder. He doesn’t deserve the name Robin. No one deserves the name Robin.”
“Nightwing, you are sick.”
“This whole city is sick.”
His voice sounded wrong even to Dick’s own ear. No emotion, no care, nothing but the simple truth.
“Dick.” His Dad said.
Except Bruce wasn’t his Dad, his Dad was long dead and gone and little more than a skel-
Dick whined, wrapping arms around himself.
The figure behind him shifted, soon enough sitting beside him on the dock but Dick could not let him get that close, could not do anything except make a fist and slam it into-
Batman caught the fist easily.
Dick tried to pull it away but Batman did not let him, holding onto his wrist just enough to restrain him without risking breaking it except it was tight and Batman was going to kill him, he was going to snap the wrist and dig a grappling hook right into Dick’s chest and and and-
And Dick was rocking forward with a sob.
“The toxin will pass.” Batman said.
“Don’t want it to.” Dick croaked.
“Yes, you do.”
“I hurt them. I killed them. I killed them all.”
“The boys are safe.” Batman said, except it wasn’t Batman. It was Bruce. It was Dad. “Spoiler too.”
Dick’s chest rabbited in his chest as a scream echoed in his ear.
Steph had found him first. She had found him and she had asked about Jason and Dick had kicked her leg so hard that he had heard it snap.
“They are safe.” Bruce said.
Dick was shaking his head because they weren’t safe, they weren’t safe and it was Dick’s fault. Except Dick didn’t want them safe, he wanted them dead, they had taken Robin from him and they deserved to suffer for it, they deserved to die for it.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Dick demanded.
“You have been dosed with a potent Fear Toxin, one that your body is having a reaction to.”
“I don’t react to Fear.”
“You’re highly resistant to most strains,” Bruce allowed. “But this is new. Your body is overreacting to it, to an incredible extent.”
“I hurt them.”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice and Dick was in equal parts grateful for the honesty and loathed it. He hated Bruce, for all he was worth, for all the suffering he has put Dick through. Put them all through.
Bruce had at some point let go of Dick’s fist and so Dick reached for his escrima again only to find that they weren’t there. He rocked forward, trying to recall where he might have dropped them and could only remember Tim laying below him, covered in blood.
He could only remember Steph’s shout of pain as her leg snapped and she had crumpled to the ground.
He could only remember Damian’s eyes widen in surprise as Dick wedged the boy’s own blade into his chest.
He could only remember Jason screaming, terrified, as Dick walked away.
Dick had walked away but it was worse than that.
“Make it stop. Please, just… Make it stop.”
“I have the antidote right here, Dick, but you can’t fight me on it. You need to keep your heart rate as steady as you can.”
“It hurts. I want to kill you. I want to hear you scream. I want to make you suffer for everything you have done to me, to them.”
“I know, Son.”
“I hurt them. They were trying to help and I hurt them. I’m going to hurt you too.”
“I can handle myself. Do whatever you need to, Dick, but try to keep your heart rate steady.”
Dick laughed without humour, not really understanding why his eyes were stinging. This monster sitting beside him deserved to die, they all did. They were all enemies, all monsters. They all deserved to suffer.
But Bruce was not a monster. He was hurting, he will always be hurting, but that’s because he took on all the suffering of this City with the hope of a better future on his shoulders.
Dick’s arm shook as he held it out to Bruce.
Then the hand shot out, going straight for Bruce’s neck, but Bruce deflected it without ever risking hurting Dick.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s okay, Dick.” Bruce said.
Bruce let Dick be the one to initiate contact again, waiting patiently for Dick to hold out his arm once more. Neither bothered to peel away the fabric of his suit, knowing full well that all of their antidotes were designed to be able to be administered through their uniforms.
“Breathe, Son.”
“I’m breathing.” Dick muttered.
All the same, Dick took in a deep breath, held it, let it go.
The moment Bruce moved to give him the antidote, Dick pulled back hard, trying to knock Bruce into the murky not quite water beside them but Bruce stayed exactly where he was, unmovable.
“I’ll kill you.” Dick vowed. Then, his voice cracking. “Dad, please, I’m scared.”
“I know, Chum.”
This time Dick was able to hold onto himself long enough for the needle to pierce his suit and his skin and just as quickly it was gone again and Dick was launching himself at the decrepit old man, but Bruce held his own, keeping Dick from rolling the both of them into the deadly water beside them.
“Breathe, Dick, I’ve got you.”
Dick roared, pounding fists against Bruce’s chest and when that didn’t work he slammed his own head into Batman’s but it only made everything spin and all at once his enemy was holding him and Dick was screaming, thrashing against them.
Just as quickly the anger was gone again, replaced instead with only heartbreak as he clutched onto his Dad’s chest and cried into it.
“Breathe, Son, breathe… That’s it… Follow my breathing. In. Hold. Out… In. Hold. Out…”
It was like there were a thousand knives digging into his lungs but Dick forced himself to follow Bruce all the same because he would follow him anywhere.
His enemy had him in a vice grip, his enemy was going to-
Bruce was going to hold Dick as long as Dick needed him to.
Bruce just wanted Dick to be okay, just like how Dick wanted his siblings to be okay.
His siblings.
He had hurt them.
He had killed them.
They deserved it. They all deserved it. They had been the fools to take on a name that should have only ever been his, they had been the fools who thought that they could best him.
They were the fools who he loved so fucking much.
Dick whined but Bruce held him close, hushing him, soothing him through it.
“Dick,” Bruce’s voice had changed. “You need to keep you heart rate steady, Lad.”
Dick could barely register if Bruce meant that his heart was beating too quickly or too slowly.
Everything felt distant. It felt wrong, even though it felt right to be here in Bruce’s arms.
“Keep breathing for me. That’s it. Just like that.”
He was covered in blood.
He had always been covered in blood.
He will always be covered in blood because of the man that was holding him now.
No, he had saved people because of the man that was holding him now. He had done incredible things, met incredible people, all thanks to Bruce.
He had suffered, he had hurt, he had screamed and cried and laughed because of this fucking man that was holding him now and there wasn’t a damn thing that Dick would change about any of it.
Except for the fact that Dick had hurt him.
He had hurt them.
Dick had hurt them.
He had hurt them, the ones he cherished the most, the ones that he promised time and again that he would keep them safe.
“Dick.” Bruce’s voice was tight, but it was growing distant too. “Dick, stay with me.”
Why even bother to stay if all that was left was the pain that Dick had caused.
Why even bother when…
Everything was…
Was…