So I've made a few posts on my profile about my health recently, and how I'm now on the journey of figuring out if I have arthritis or EDS since I've been experiencing pain for the majority of my life. Despite that, I kinda struggle with knowing that's not great? If a friend came to me and said they experienced everything I did, I'd be supportive of everything they needed but I don't keep this mentality for myself because I can never convince myself I'm "sick" enough.

Recently it's gotten to the point where getting out of bed is a struggle. I have to plant my feet on the ground then push myself to lean onto the wall and kinda lean/hold walls to walk around for the first few minutes of my day which I have learned is not as common as I thought it was.

All this to say, it's been suggested that I get a cane to help with that and because I have the "not sick enough" mentality I'm avoiding it. What do I do when I'm having complicated emotions? I make Dick suffer :) 

To be fair though, he probably would need one, especially after his knee injury so this isn't complete fanon. I've got some base for it. Even if this is purely for me to work through emotions so this might not be much good-

Dick took after Bruce in a few ways. Some he hated after having sworn when he was younger that he'd never inherit them. Others brought a strange sense of comfort when he saw himself reflecting his mentor's mannerisms. He often wondered if he ever unknowingly took on his parents' traits but he could never know for sure. 

It was just as complicated as for his brothers to witness but they too had times when they liked that he'd taken up some of the sillier habits of their mentor. Namely, it was his small collection of strange trophies from the villains he fought that they were particularly fond of. They weren't as big as Bruce's mostly due to the minimal space in his apartment but he kept a few innocuous things that didn't look like trophies to the unknowing eye. Random pieces of machinery or computers from bombs he deactivated, small pieces of rubble from places damaged by epic battles and newspaper clippings from random court cases he helped provide evidence for.

Still, even with their involvement in the vigilante life, they had no idea what the cane beside his bed was a memory of. It wasn't green and didn't have any question marks so that disproved their primary theory of it being Riddler's. They couldn't come up with any villain or mobster that had a cane like it either. It wasn't some eccentric accessory. Sure there were some coloured beads on it but nothing fancy. The cane just looked like an ordinary cane you could get at a store. 

They also didn't understand why he took it anywhere he'd be sleeping over. Damian had noticed it a couple of times when they were both staying in the Titans and everyone had seen it propped up against his double bed at the manor. There had to be sentimental value to it but they'd also seen Haley biting at the rubber stopper on the end a few times and Dick would at most just move her away from it with a tut so it couldn't be irreplaceable.

Jason had a theory that it was from Barbara. She didn't just get out of the wheelchair one day and then magically walked about like normal. She used a cane for a time, usually after harsh training or a day where she'd be standing a lot, so it would make sense that Dick would keep it around if she ever needed it. The beads weren't Batgirl's colours but not everything in their lives had to be their hero colours. He kept it by the bed because their relationship was unpredictable. If they ever had a fling followed by one of her bad days then it would be much easier if a cane was to hand and Dick was the type of person to do that. He didn't care that Haley chewed on it because it wasn't well used. However, that didn't explain why he brought it to other places. Jason refused to believe that his brother would do anything with Barbara under Bruce's roof.

Tim and Damian believed it was from an old injury. When his leg was basically shattered and the damage was particularly focused around the knee, it would make sense that he'd used a cane for a time. They guessed he used the cane whilst getting back to his usual self then never got rid of it. He was the cheapest child of a billionaire they knew and if he could keep something and pay for it once rather than twice, he would. Why he kept it by the bed so often, they didn't have an answer for. He didn't get hurt bad enough to necessitate it being there every time they went over somewhere. Maybe it was just in case something happened. 

It was a little prank to misplace the cane. Mostly to confirm what they could about the cane. Of course, they could just ask him why he brought the cane everywhere he was staying but where was the fun in that? There was no mystery, no room for speculation and it was far too easy. Besides, it was as close as they'd get to bonding over something. 

Damian was chosen to steal it during the night. He knew when Dick was actually sleeping rather than in that state where you pretend to sleep. He snuck into the acrobat's room where the cane stood resting against a poster of the bed. He snatched it away and hid it in a laundry cupboard underneath a set of towels. 

They didn't mean anything cruel by hiding it. They just wanted to see the reaction it would cause. If Dick panicked about where it was, they would know this was something sentimental and continue searching for an answer. If he didn't seem too bothered about it then they knew the cane was practical and maybe he just picked up on the planning for everything nature he grew up under. They'd pretend to find his cane, blaming Ace for mistaking it as a really weird-looking stick and fetching it for Damian who would return it to Dick. The brothers knew they could be thoughtless sometimes when it came to Dick's feelings, they still cared and didn't want to cause any unnecessary distress in search for their answer. Unfortunately, they never expected why he would keep it so close.

It was unusual for Dick not to turn up to morning training. The only times he missed it was because he was sick, not staying with them or was injured. The night before he seemed a little stiff but they couldn't recall anything that would make him miss training. They guessed he was looking for the cane so they decided to casually ask why he wasn't at training. Admittedly, it would've looked less suspicious if they hadn't all gone but none of them could decide on who would go. 

Tim knocked on Dick's door, waited a moment before hearing the call to enter. When he opened the door, he didn't really know what to make of what he saw and a quick glance to his brothers told him the same thing. Dick was still in bed with a slightly apprehensive look on his face. His sheet were crumpled so he had thrown them back at one point but he must've given up on that plan. 

"What's up?" Dick asked, a slight easy smile on his face.

"We missed you at training," he replied.

"B will have your head if you don't show up," Jason added. The acrobat nodded to himself as though preparing for bad news. "Having a lazy day or something?"

"I'm just tired," he answered. "I'm sure he won't mind if I skip."

"Father always minds," Damian argued. He was right. Bruce didn't take kindly to people skipping his not-required but totally required training sessions. Perhaps because he didn't know how else to spend quality time with the kids he raised or because he saw it was his best bet at protecting them when he wasn't looming over their every move when they went on patrols and missions. 

"Yeah, I guess so. Better get out of bed huh?" the older muttered awkwardly. He shuffled up until his back was against the headboard before holding onto the corner of his bedside table. He gripped it tightly as he swung his legs from the bed and planted his feet on the floor. The whole thing looked apprehensive. Like he didn't want to make the final move to stand. They couldn't think why. 

After a minute, he let out a long breath and pushed himself up to stand on his feet. It looked painful.

"Did you get hurt last night?" Tim couldn't help but ask. Dick shook his head with some sort of sorrowful expression as he moved to grip other objects as he walked. His feet didn't completely touch the ground so he was walking on their sides. The brothers couldn't understand why he was choosing to walk like that. Dick was many things but they wouldn't describe him as stilted. His body was fluid like a Pixar animated character. He moved in such a unique way that seeing him hobble around didn't look right. 

"Are you sure you weren't hurt last night?" Jason asked sceptically. It wouldn't be the first time his brother pretended everything was fine. Dick sort of shrivelled up at the question, a closed-off look behind his eyes that told them they'd touched an uncomfortable subject. He looked somewhere else when he answered them.

"It's kinda hard to move in the mornings."

"Why?" Damian inquired. "You move just fine when you work."

"Doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt," he mumbled. "I'm always hurting but who isn't, right?" They looked between themselves. "What?"

"I think that's a you thing. Sure I'm sore after a workout sometimes and I feel dead on my feet after a long night but I'm not always hurting," Tim told him, getting a few nods along the way.

"Right," Dick said. "Sorry, forget not everyone is like me."

"Like me? What's that supposed to mean?" Jason prodded.

"For now, it means I'm always in pain and have physio all the time. It also means I need my cane sometimes when I transition from standing to sitting. Sometimes all the time. Depends how bad of a day I'm having."

"But you don't need a cane. I see you do backflips for fun, why would you need a cane?"

"Because some days I can do flips and some days I can't get out of bed. Happy with that or should I grab my medical history?" he snapped before immediately regretting it. "Sorry. I'm just having a rough start to the day. First, my cane goes missing and I can't get out of bed because it hurts to put pressure on my feet and then I have to walk in front of you which is embarrassing for obvious reasons."

There was a special kind of uncomfortableness that came from Dick's embarrassment. He was struggling and he viewed it as embarrassing. Like this was something shameful to only keep between yourself and the walls of your home. They wondered if he got up early to walk with his cane until he felt he could face the day without it. They also wondered just how many last-minute missions were him booking it out the door when he knew he'd have a bad day. Ultimately, a pang of sickly guilt settled in the bottom of their stomachs. If he had his cane, he wouldn't be in pain but then again, if he had his cane then they wouldn't know. 

"How about you stay here and then we'll find your cane. Ace probably thought it was a new toy or something," Tim suggested. 

"You don't have to do that. If you give me a few minutes I can get my bearings. I think not moving for so long makes the pain worse so I've gotta tough it out."

"Do you want to do that?" Damian countered. He thought about it for a moment, his hand white-knuckling the poster of his bed. His feet still didn't completely touch the floor and when he tried to briefly, his face scrunched up in pain. 

"Not really."

"Then you'll wait here whilst we find your cane. Sit down before you injure yourself."

"That's not how it- alright," he said with a sigh. "You know what it looks like, right?" They nodded and in return, he looked relieved. 

After retrieving the cane and waiting a few minutes to pretend they were looking for it, they returned to his room and handed him the cane. 

"Thanks," Dick said and when he stood up with the help of the cane, he looked much better than when he was using everything within an arm's reach to walk. He wasn't pain-free but it was certainly easier to manage.

"You know there's nothing wrong with us seeing you like this," Jason began. "You saw me when I was beheading drug dealers. This is nothing compared to that." The acrobat laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.

"I don't like broadcasting that it hurts to get out of bed. I don't need someone tipping off B about it," he replied almost spiteful. "I can handle it."

"It's not about whether you can handle it, it's about us knowing about it. We can give you some help," Tim offered. 

"Unless you have some secret master's degree in joint transplanting, there's not much you can do. There's no real way to fix this," he explained. 

"Drake means that we can provide accommodations. You'd be wise to listen to him. A clock is only right twice a day and I fear he's already used up one of his correct points." Dick chuckled at the youngest. 

"I suppose you're right."

"I am. What can we do that will help?"

"This might be a big ask but if Ace could get used to Haley, that'd be a big help. She's not exactly a service dog but I've taught her a few things that help out like getting my shoes and grabbing my cane when I leave it in the wrong room."

"Ace is a well-trained dog, he will learn to deal with it," Damian assured him. 

"Do you want us to grab your shoes now?" Tim asked. 

"If you could."