Work Text:
Damian marched into one of the lounge rooms of the manor, finding Jason on the couch eating with a book in his hand while Tim sat at the other end flickering through channels on the expensive tv, bored.
The youngest cleared his throat and held up a bottle of pills that he had hidden behind his back, showing the, off with a scowl. "Grayson is on the pills."
Jason chocked on his food as he laughed, Damian, who was still frowning, turned to Tim in confusion. Tim raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly.
"What? Where'd you hear that?"
"At school."
"Man, we really need to give you the talk." Jason said with amusement, recovering from his gagging and laughing fit earlier, and by 'we' he meant Bruce. Damian tilted his head slightly and huffed, he hated being laughed at like he was stupid, especially, by the previous Robins.
Tim continued, "'On the pills' means to prevent getting pregnant."
"Ohhhh." Damian blushed ever so slightly in embarrassment at the realisation before clearing his throat and redirecting their attention to the pill bottle and corrected himself. "Grayson is taking pills."
"We all do." Jason replied nonchalantly and sighed, taking a bite of some chips from the bag in his lap, chalking it up to Damian making something out of nothing. Like Bruce, the youngest could be paranoid at times. "It's probably just some medication for a headache or something."
Damian's scowl softened slightly, his brows furrowed in concern as he read the long label, not knowing what it meant, he handed it to Tim. Damian knew something was wrong. The middle child (or teenager accurately) sighed and studied the bottle as he recognised the label, shifting on the couch tensely and turned off the tv to concentrate.
"What is it, replacement?" Jason sat upright and closed his book, noticing Tim leaning forward slightly as he studied the bottle. If Tim was concerned, he should be too.
"It's Quetiapine." Tim muttered, handing it back to Damian before turning to Jason. "It's a common anti-psychotic medication."
"Anti-psychotic? Why would Dick need them?" Damian asked innocently, not fully understanding what the word meant. He only heard the word 'psychotic' when referring to their villains with major mental health issues, mainly The Joker.
"Maybe he uses it treat PTSD or anxiety medication?" Jason replied, telling himself and his younger brothers that it was just a simple misunderstanding that they never picked up on. It wasn't surprising to see one of the Bats' take anxiety, antidepressants or OCD medication considering what they've all been through. Nor was it uncommon for some family members to use different medications for different disorders or mental health issues as commons ones didn't work for some people.
"No." Tim stated, his concern (and guilt for not noticing) peeking through his calculating expression. "This medicine is specifically helps people who have Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia."
"He can't..." the youngest muttered in concern, staring at the bottle in disbelief when Tim handed it back to him. Not paying his brothers any mind when Jason discussed with Tim what they should do.
"Obviously, we need to tell Bruce and the others." Jason said, though, Tim shook his head in disagreement.
"But it's not our place to tell them."
"He needs support!" Jason huffed, getting up from the couch. "What if something happens? We can't just leave him be with whatever going on in his head."
"I didn't say we shouldn't support him but we don't know how long he's been dealing with this, he seems okay and if we tell the others, it might start an argument."
"I'm telling Father immediately!" Damian commented before running out of the room to retrieve Bruce before Tim could protest, the pill bottle stuffed into the kid's pocket.
The Bats' sat in the same popularised lounge room uncomfortably in an intense silence, it was mid afternoon and Jason gathered everyone to the lounge room, including Alfred. Dick, thankfully, was in Blüdhaven currently but would arrive at the Manor in the late afternoon or early night to join the others for dinner. Cass, Steph, Duke sat on the couch, Alfred sat on the armchair with Barbara beside him in her wheelchair and Damian at their feet accompanied by Titus. Bruce leaned against the wall and crossed his arms in attempt to hide his fatherly worry, he knew Jason wouldn't gather everyone if it wasn't important. Jason stood in front of the couch, in front of everyone, with Tim shifting behind him, his gaze locked onto the expensive carpet.
"Dick has psychosis. Damian found a bottle of anti-psychotics pills in his room, according to Tim, it treats Bipolar Disorder and Schizophrenia."
Everyone's eyes widened as they took in the revelation, they knew he might have quite bad mental health issues from time to time, though, Dick always puts on a charming, loving smile. Bruce's shoulders stiffened as he internally wondered what caused it. Was it him? How did no one notice before? How long had his son been suffering? The room was eerily quiet and Bruce's gaze flickered over to Tim, knowing how much observant Tim was.
"How long...has he been suffering from this?" His usual tone wavered slightly in concern and guilt as he asked helplessly. Tim's gaze dropped as he rubbed his neck, sighing deeply.
"I'm not sure. I knew he had some mental health problems, we all do. But nothing like...this"
"What...What do we do?" Stephanie spoke up, glancing at her family members, uncharacteristically a little timid by the news. "And why didn't Dick say anything?"
"He's always been positive, he'd probably thought it would burden us." Duke said and Cass nodded, Bruce disagreed with the first statement, thinking back to when Dick was a young boy and had a very short temper. Was that related to his conditions? Duke made a good point on the latter comment, Dick didn't like to burden others with his problems.
"We need to confront Grayson."
Tim shook his head to Damian's input but Jason agreed and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, covering up his internal fear and guilt with a slight annoyed expression. Barbara agreed with both of them, understanding to give Dick space but also support.
"I'm sure you all will come to an agreement but, remember, Master Dick needs support not arguments or too many questions, we don't want to overwhelm him." Alfred said as he stood up and gently placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder.
The Bats' nodded and as the afternoon shifted to early night, Damian and Cassandra helped Alfred with dinner, Dick arrived, happy as always, trying to hug any family member he saw. Unfortunately, Tim was hiding as he didn't want to watch the eventual confrontation. Dick raised an eyebrow in amusement as he noticed his family occasionally glance at him and share a look, when asking about it, Alfred simply and kindly redirected his attention towards the members of the household.
Dick shrugged it off with a small smile and went to find Bruce in his study, not bothering to knock before entering. Coming to stand over Bruce's shoulders as he looked at the screen and paper documents about Wayne Enterprise, he sighed as he found it boring. He sat on the arm of chair, one foot balancing him on the ground so he wouldn't fall off, his eyes flickering over his father figure. He pushed the self-conscious thoughts of his family's looks down, burying within him, into the pile of paranoia, guilt and grief that he never went through.
"Something troubling you, Chum?" Bruce asked, his tone softer than usual, his eyes taking in Dick's unnerving expression. Bruce wasn't surprised by how clingy Dick was being, though, it was rare to see him like this as he was mainly clingy back when he was Robin.
"Chum?" Dick repeated with a light chuckle, a hint of alertness behind his voice. 'Maybe that isn't Bruce?'. He quickly pushed that thought down with the others. "You don't all me that. Not anymore."
Bruce's frown deepened slightly, he knew Dick was right and he couldn't help but feel the guilt that crept up his body. He shook his head slightly and pushed his work papers away before turning his attention to his son. "How've you been? Blüdhaven hasn't been too hard on you?"
Dick huffed silently, one because Bruce ignored his previous comment and, two, because Bruce doesn't usually ask and it was odd to seem him slightly more emotional than usual, even if it was just a tiny bit. Dick looked away and shrugged, grunting softly, a habit he got growing up from Bruce. "Fine. Everything's well."
Bruce nodded, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Stephanie had knocked on the door and let herself in to tell them Alfred finished making dinner. Dick trailed behind Bruce, his head twitched subtly as if to shake off any quiet whispers about his family's odd behaviour since his arrival.
Dinner was like usual, or at least, that's what Dick repeatedly told himself internally. Everyone sat at their respective seats, eating, well, Dick was, everyone else had mainly been just pushing their food around or taking small bites. He kept hugs charming smile and positive demeanour up, but even he didn't miss the way his family members glanced at him, observing him. Silence is all he heard, internally and externally and it frightened him. He always relished in the quiet moments of his mind but he knew it wouldn't last for long, even in the calm, there were always voice and soft whispers.
After dinner, the majority of the Bats' got into their individual costumes, utility belts and gathered their weapons. As the eldest son, in his Nightwing disguise, neared the cave, he overheard his family talking in a hushed tone. Peeking around the corner to get a glimpse, they were huddled in a group, concern, annoyed and tense. Were they briefing something important? Why didn't they tell him? He felt like he was in trouble. Not the type of in trouble that a kid would be in by their parent, it was the type of in trouble where your siblings wouldn't talk to you. Or your parent and siblings observe like they're waiting for you to mess up. Or they look at you in disgust or pity. Had he done something wrong? He couldn't remember what mishap he could have caused but it was always like that, wasn't it? Grayson was known for his dramatics, he heard his siblings say once.
Dick left his spot and exited the manor a different way instead of the cave as they always did, he did not want to see his family or the awkward moment when they would realise he was standing there, though, he figured they didn't want to see him at the moment either. He did his usual routine of Gotham when he did patrols the city, he always found the refreshing nightly air comforting and relaxing at times, and sometimes it stirred nostalgic memories of when he was Robin.
"Hey, Dickie!" Dick heavily huffed as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, he recognised that voice, how could he not? A fit of triumph giggles and cheers followed him as a small bloodied Jason Todd ran in his Robin attire. He tried to outrun the kid. Jason, every now and then, accompanied him on patrols. Though, it was often in Blüdhaven. The young boy managed to keep up his pace and stayed by his side, a slight frown plastered on his bruised and bloodied face as he glanced up at the older man. At times, Little Jason was comforting, or, it was a constant reminder of Dick's failure as an older brother. "Where are we going?"
"Just patrolling around, Little Wing." Dick replied, glancing at the boy for a second before turning his attention back to where he was going, he hated seeing the extensive injuries on Little Jason (as what he calls him now ever since he appeared since his death) and he knew he shouldn't respond but he couldn't bear not speaking to Little Jason, not after everything the kid's been through. "Did you need something?"
"No."
Dick nodded and continued patrolling by himself along with Jason, Little Todd making comments every now and again while the others talked on the comms. Everything was going smoothly, Little Jason helped him spot any sketchy looking people and applauded when Dick took down any crook, he couldn't help but smile proudly. Around one in the morning when Dick moved from rooftop to rooftop once more, Little Jason must have been getting tired as he was less frequently hanging around Dick but he was okay with that, Jason needed his rest.
"Hey, Dickiebird!"
Oh, great, now there was Big Jason joining him. Of course, he didn't mind patrolling with Jason and he enjoyed hanging out with him but it was confusing and internally upsetting at times when Big Jason was around him with Little Jason tagging along. He hates to admit but, sometimes, he couldn't tell which one was real. He knew one of them was a fake but he couldn't tell which one, was his brother actually dead? Or, was the young boy just a visualisation of his overwhelming pelt up grief. Dick even stared at the second Robin from time to time when they were with the others in conversations, gauging if he was real or not, thankfully, others were there and if they spoke to Big Jason, Dick knew he was real. Most of the time. Some whispers made him doubt his reality but that was not new to Dick Grayson.
"You okay?" Jason in his Red Hood disguise asked, running up beside Dick like Little Jason did earlier. Dick managed a very faint smile and nodded, lightly hearing the young boy again, giggling on the other side of him. Dick took in a sharp breath and looked away from the young kid when blood poured out of his mouth through his cracked teeth. "We know."
Dick slowed his pace and turned his head to Big Jason, tilting his head, the comms going quiet signifying the Bats' silence mid-conversation.
"We know about the pills, about the anti-psychotics." Jason admitted gently in surprising vulnerability. The two vigilantes have now stopped running and Dick felt his body shift uncomfortably. "About the Qi- Qu..."
"Quetiapine." Tim corrected over the comms and Jason rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, that."
At first, Dick thought he misheard him or that the version of Jason standing in front of him was lying. Yes, his family members expressed their shame and anger about his mental illness before, though, it was in his head. This time, he knew it was real by Tim's correction over the comms.
"Yeah." He squinted his eyes as he waited for Jason's reaction behind the Red Hood mask.
The younger man shifted slightly, patiently waiting for his older brother to continue but with no explanation given or anymore said, Jason placed his hand on Dick's shoulder. "You...you okay?"
Dick tensed at the touch, especially, since Little Jason was standing behind him hugging onto his leg. So close to him that Dick could feel him, like a living touch just like Big Jason's hand. Dick took a shark breath in and shrugged off the vigilante's hand, continuing on with patrol. His irritation seeping through his casual tone, "I'm fine."
"Yeah fucking right, because-"
"Red Hood." Bruce said over the comms, making Jason stop from saying something he might regret and silently huffed. After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence, Bruce spoke up again with guilt. "How long?"
"I don't know. Years." Dick replied, running from rooftop to rooftop with Big Jason and Little Jason following him, or more accurately, running away from the two versions of Jason. Time was lost when it came to his mental health and hallucinations. He honestly could not tell Bruce how long the 'false' visions had been happening, all his life really, but it worsened when he witnessed the death of his parents. He hadn't even known how bad it was when Harley Quinn of all people comforted him when he was standing on an edge of a rooftop one night in Gotham.
Bruce remained silent, contemplating as always, internally guilty that had not noticed one of his sons mental health issues or that he, possibly, was the cause of it. Jason, behind his Red Hood mask, glanced at his older brother in surprise. Years? He knew Dick had the tendency to downplay major injuries and internal struggles mentally for his family's sake but psychosis? And severe hallucinations that he dealt with for God knows how long alone. That he hadn't even told Bruce or Alfred? That was concerning.
At the awkward silence through the comms, Tim, trying to be supportive and understanding, spoke up nervously. "So, um, D- Nightwing, are you okay?"
"Yes?" He replied, his tone slowly getting more annoyed. One of the reasons he did not want them to find out was to view him differently, which, seems like that was already happening. Big Jason was silent beside him while bruised and bloodied Little Jason trailed behind him, every sight of him more gruesome than the last, he asked innocent questions out loud that began to turn into negative misconceptions. Dick swore, he even heard whispers of his family joining in. "I...I'm not crazy."
"Crazy?"
"Crazy?" Stephanie said, dressed as Spoiler on the other side of Gotham, trying to lighten the strained tension. "I was crazy once, they locked me in a room. A rubber room with rat-"
"Not the time, Spoiler."
"Sorry, Bats'"
"We never said you were." Jason quietly replied to Dick's statement, gently squeezing his shoulder again in silent comfort but Dick shrugged off the hand once more. The older vigilante didn't say much and occasionally turned to look behind him which Jason copied but couldn't see problems. 'Maybe Dick was hanging around Bruce too much and was getting paranoid', he thought in amusement, then realised he could possibly be witnessing Dick hallucinate currently. "Dick?"
"Code names, Red Hood." Bruce gruffly commented but Jason ignored him, the older man had stopped running again and shook his head.
"Please, just leave." Dick muttered eventually, rubbing the bridge of his nose, an action that Bruce did when he was annoyed but Jason could tell it was more than just annoyance."
"No way, I'm not leaving!"
Bruce sighed through the comms, the others not sure what to say but kept an ear out for any sign of distress from Dick as they patrolled, Bruce cleared his throat slightly before talking. "Maybe it's best to go back to the cave Nightwing. Just for tonight."
"We don't need you here."
"No, I'm fine, I don't need to go back." Dick shook his head and Jason stepped forward in concern, Dick looked like he was either between zoning out or really focused on something.
"Yes, you do. You're unstable. Who knows what you'll do..."
"It's not like that!"
"Crazy..."
"What if he hurts us?"
"His own family?"
"I wouldn't!"
"Dick!"
The man looked up from the ground of the rooftop to Jason's face disguised by the Red Hood mask, the voices momentarily quieted a bit and Dick shifted in subtle embarrassment. Jason's frown deepened and he reached his arm over Dick's shoulder and this time, Dick didn't push him away. Jason didn't say much but took him back to the Batcave, Dick didn't know if he could trust this Jason, he couldn't tell if the version of his brother right beside him was even real. If he wasn't Dick didn't protest and headed back to the Manor, getting changed at his return and resting (struggling alone) in his old bedroom.
Eventually, as the night went on, Alfred made him a cup of tea to ease him before heading off to bed. Dick sat on the side of his bed in comfortable clothes, staring at the mug of hot tea. The voices were there but spoke up every now and again, better than before, but Dick could feel their overwhelming presence staring at him. Weighing him down. Encourage him to pour the hot beverage over his skin even though the thought was ridiculous, it kept coming back.
Soon, Damian returned and changed into his pyjamas, being the youngest Bruce had a curfew for him patrolling. The young teenager knocked, but with no response, he let himself enter, secretly worried about his eldest brother. Damian noticed upon entering the room, Dick was in a daze, a scary one.
He sat beside Dick and stifled a yawn, glancing at the mug then at Dick. "Are you feeling any better, Grayson?"
It took a couple seconds before Dick finally drew his eyes away from the hot tea to Damian and mustered a small, tired smile and shrugged. There wasn't much point lying now, not if everyone knew. But at the same time, Damian was his Robin and he didn't want to worry him. "A little."
Damian nodded and definitely did not snuggle into him slightly, his voice softened in tiredness as he rubbed his eyes. "I don't know much about psychosis but...I want to learn. To help."
Honestly, Dick wasn't sure if the boy sitting next to him was real, if he wasn't, he had to admit it was kind of comforting. Kind of. If it wasn't accompanied with the daunting eyes staring at him, urging him to reach the hot tea. Yet, he turned to Damian who had fallen asleep and he carefully tucked him into his bed, the mental exhaustion catching up with him, he pushed away his paranoid thoughts of the, now, quiet voices and shifting silhouettes. He laid beside Damian and quickly fell asleep as one of the voices whispered, a gently living voice in Romanian.
"Sleep well, Robin."