TW: TARANTULA SITUATION IS ALLUDED TO BUT NOT DESCRIBED IN DETAIL + DEPICTIONS OF DISASSOCIATION/FLASHBACKS

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/helplines/

https://mentalhealthhotline.org/ptsd-hotline/

https://checkpointorg.com/global/

https://rapecrisis.org.uk/get-help/want-to-talk/

https://www.rainn.org/about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline

https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/sexual-health/help-after-rape-and-sexual-assault/

Gotham was no stranger to rain. In fact, when Bruce was younger, he would wonder how the city wasn't always flooded from how much it rained. He used to imagine a large rain cloud lingering around the city and whenever it dared to get a little warm, the cloud would swoop in to put a stop to it. It was a silly thought but with how many impossible things he witnessed in his career he wouldn't be surprised if there was some ancient rain God that had a particular hatred for Gotham. He remembered how he'd fussed over the Robin suit, insisting that it would need pants but ultimately failing when his ward pulled out those puppy dog eyes. Jason kept them out of spite, he thought, just to prove he could last as long as his predecessor.  Tim was the one to stop the cycle. He'd probably seen each Robin spend half their night shivering and slowly inching to hide under Batman's cape. 

Since Gotham was no stranger to rain, he was surprised by the way it made Nightwing freeze. 

They were on patrol together at the time. Although he hadn't insisted on them the same way Alfred had, he enjoyed them nonetheless. He saw his eldest so little nowadays with everything going on with the Justice League, Batman, and everything else that came with having a small football team of children. Nightwing had always been independent too. He met up with his siblings whenever he could but he lived in a different city with its own problems and own government to reorder from the inside and out. They were both adults with their own lives at the end of the day but these one-off patrols every month or so were nice.

Around two in the morning, they took a break on a rooftop with some coffee neither of them would get if it wasn't free. Batman noticed how his former protege was quiet and a little distant but put it down to busy days in Bludhaven. The city could be just as taxing as Gotham and he wasn't envious of how Nightwing worked alone, remembering how strung out he got in the beginning. He intended to say something, he really did, but he was always awful at these conversations. 

"How's work?" he asked gruffly, knowing that wasn't what he was supposed to ask. He was supposed to ask about Nightwing personally yet it felt too intimate to begin a conversation with. He'd have to hope the opportunity would come up later.

"It's fine. Got a few cases on the go. Nothing I can't handle," Nightwing answered a little awkwardly before letting them lapse back into silence. He was usually a wiz at conversation and Batman had always been silently thankful for that so he felt caught off guard at having to take the lead. 

"That's good. Just don't overwhelm yourself." That was apparently the wrong thing to say because his ward turned away from him slightly and if they weren't wearing masks, he'd see him roll his eyes. Batman licked his lips nervously before biting the bullet. He couldn't deal with his kid drifting away again. "Did I do something?"

"What?"

"You seem upset. Did I do something?" 

"No. Not your fault this time," he replied, his voice a touch softer than it needed to be. "Don't worry about it."

"It's my job to worry."

"Not anymore." He picked at his cup but froze when he noticed a ripple in his coffee, glancing up at the sky and finding it was beginning to rain. Batman decided to challenge himself and put those online parenting courses to use.

"I can still worry about you no matter how old you are," he insisted. No reply. Nightwing's eyes remained focused on the heavy silver clouds drifting over to them and bringing harder rain with it. Still, his mentor continued. "You can still depend on me. I know I haven't been the best of guardians and we've had our fair share of troubles but I do care. If you're in over your head on anything then you can say something." Silence remained and he nervously went on trying to make up for something he didn't know. "I know you worry about your place and I've never been a help to that but I," he paused and really looked at the vigilante beside him. 

Nightwing's chest was moving up and down as he'd just finished a harsh cardio routine or done a full lap of Bludhaven chasing some godforsaken criminal. His once flushed cheeks from the cold had now been drained of colour and he looked sickly. Whilst the white lenses covered his eyes, they didn't cover the fact he wasn't blinking for long periods of time. The coffee in his hand edged the lip of the cup as his body shook. 

Batman had seen and felt plenty of panic attacks in his life to know everyone had different reactions but similar symptoms. What he was looking at right now wasn't quite a panic attack but something just as bad. A flashback. He knew if he took off that mask, he'd see unfocused blue eyes lost in a buried memory. He knew Nightwing qualified for PTSD when he was a child so he definitely did so now. He'd never seen him have a flashback but that was Nightwing for you. He hid the most vulnerable parts of himself, the ugly parts, behind a chatty and personable face. 

It wasn't like Batman had been the most attentive of fathers either. He wouldn't question it if Nightwing suddenly disappeared from a room and came back a little shakier than before. Anyone else, he'd consider following up on it but Nightwing had always been so self-sufficient and a social butterfly. He should've known better than to think this business somehow left him untouched. He should've wondered for longer about where all those bad traits went.

"Nightwing?" Batman called. He didn't reach out to touch him yet, deciding that out of all the things that could cause a flashback, most would involve some kind of unwanted touching. That was the nature of fighting after all. "Nightwing, can you tell me where you are?" 

He didn't get a reply but honestly, he didn't expect one. He knew it would take a few tries from when he'd tried to ground Jason from his episodes. Unfortunately, they were in public as heroes so he couldn't speed the process along by using their real names but he could be patient. 

"We're on a roof, in Gotham. You were just telling me you had a few cases on the go. Do you know what any of them were about?"

Again, he didn't get a response but he noticed that the space between blinks was becoming shorter although that could come from the heavy rain splashing on his face. As soon as Nightwing was okay and back in the moment, he'd get him to the Batmobile and take him somewhere safe. He'd like to think that he could just take his ward to the manor but he understood that there was a flat in Bludhaven that was home too. Maybe even the Titan's Tower. 

"Robin has been doing well," Batman began, trying a different tactic. "He's been drawing. He doesn't show me them, perhaps in time he will, but I see him working on them and they're amazing. You probably know that already." He smiled to himself at how close his kids were. It felt right. "I've noticed that he draws something on every page. I don't know if it's a warm up but it looks like a bunch of squiggles in the vague shape of an elephant." He watched Nightwing carefully and frowned at the lack of improvement. "Take deep breaths, chum. You're with me on a rooftop. No one else is here. It's just us."

Batman spent about five minutes rambling. He switched between encouraging Nightwing to breathe, telling him mundane family facts and reminding him where he was. He wondered if his own lingering anxiety about the situation was somehow fueling the flashback to last longer even though logically it had been a handful of minutes and that wasn't how these things worked. 

Finally, Nightwing stiffly looked down from the sky and stared at his coffee before dragging his eyes over to where Batman sat beside him. His face crumpled with shame and embarrassment and looked away again.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to zone out."

"You didn't zone out, chum, and there's nothing to be sorry for," Batman replied. He hesitantly reached out and lightly put his hand on the other man's shoulder. His near-permanent frown deepened when he saw his usually touch-loving child flinch away from him. "Do you want to...talk about it?"

"I'm fine."

"There's no point in lying to me."

"Is there not?"

"I meant what I said. I'm here for you, no matter your age," he insisted. Nightwing sighed and swirled his now watered-down coffee in the cup as he thought it over. "Let's get to the car. You're still shaking."

"It'll wear off in a minute."

"The city will be fine if we take refuge in the car." Reluctantly, Nightwing nodded.

When they got to the Batmobile and settled in, it seemed Nightwing had made up his mind. 

"You can't tell anyone," he began. "Not a word of this can get out. You're the first person I've ever told." Immediately Batman decided that this was something they probably should talk about at home but he knew if he suggested such a thing, he would never know what it was. The conversation would be dead in the water so he just nodded. "Do you remember Blockbuster?"

"Vividly," he replied. 

"It's the anniversary of his death today." That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "And uhm- fuck I've never really said it out loud before. I don't- you'd think with how many times we stop it from happening I'd be able to say it."

"What is it?"

"I was so shocked that Tarantula had killed him that when she started to," he paused and chewed his bottom lip. He looked over to his mentor desperately hoping that Batman would pick up what he was putting down. Luckily, he'd known the moment he admitted to never saying it out loud. It was earth-shattering yet he kept a neutral expression because freaking out now would do nothing. 

"I understand," he said. Nightwing's eyes welled up and suppressed a sob. He must've been so terrified to say something. Being a vigilante puts a spotlight on you to be perfect and strong as though being strong would save you from that every time. There was always more to it and it broke Batman's heart that his kid knew that. "Have you seen someone?" Immediately he kicked himself because, of course, he hadn't. Like father like son.

"No, just sort of dealt with it," Nightwing responded, his voice shaking. "I didn't have time. Maybe I didn't let myself have time. Easier that way."

"Would you like someone? I could connect you to someone," he offered.

"I'll think about it. I guess I never saw it as an option." 

"Let me take you home. You don't need to work tonight. I think I'd rather you didn't."

"I can't go back to that flat today," the acrobat insisted quickly. "It's like she's still there. She's dead but she's still there. I've not slept in my bedroom this entire week because it's like at any point I'll find her there grinning at me."

"You don't need to explain yourself. My home will always be yours too."

"Could you stay with me though? I know I'm old but-"

"Dick, whatever you need right now, I want to give you it. All you need to do is tell me. You don't need to justify yourself," he said reassuringly. "You're my son."

"Thanks...Dad."