JordynAdams1 requested this one 

my science is shaky here sometimes but you're not reading this for accurate medical descriptions

also this is more like snapshots rather than one like straight forward story but i thought it would read better

They all knew what to expect. It was just far different actually seeing it. 

Dick still didn't believe this was real and for the time being, it worked in their favour because he didn't care enough to not do as they said. It was almost as if he was sleepwalking and just letting himself be directed to where he needed to be. Once they got the all-clear, half helped get him home whilst the other half raided his apartment for anything that might bring him comfort. Alfred greeted him kindly and didn't take offence to the half-hearted look he received in return. He gently coaxed Dick to his bedroom, showing him the warm set of pyjamas on his bed to change into and asked if he wanted anything to eat. 

"Something in a package," Dick said, his voice as distant as his gaze.

"Come again, sir?"

"Something packaged. I need to open it too. I-I don't," he trailed off but the butler got the gist. He didn't trust something he hadn't seen prepared. He needed something that went through a factory, packaged carefully and untampered with. 

"That can be arranged," Alfred responded gently. "Would you like any help changing?"

"No," he answered. His gaze wandered to the door of the bathroom. "All sharps and pills have been taken, haven't they?"

"Indeed they have. If you require a shave, I'm happy to help and I'll retrieve any painkillers."

"Can- Would it be okay to shower on my own? Or would you have to watch?"

"I'd wait outside the door."

"That's...yeah that's fine. I'll have a shower I think."

They weren't sure if Dick slept the first night. He was in bed at least and he certainly looked tired enough to sleep well until mid day. The night after, they weren't so lucky.

Damian wasn't sure what woke him up but his eyes snapped open and a feeling of dread settled at the bottom of his stomach. He got out of bed and waited a moment. The home was silent which was to be expected. Alfred would be asleep as would Dick and everyone else was out on patrol. This was one of the few times he didn't care. He was given the job of looking after his brother. He was the lightest sleeper so it made sense he'd be left behind. However, there was something different about the silence. There was something distant. A sound maybe or a feeling. Whatever it was, it made him think to check on Dick.

He was thankful he did. He knocked on the door a few times but when he heard the sound of someone hyperventilating behind it, he decided to forego politeness and went right in then flicked on the light. Dick, at some point, had moved from the bed he'd been previously glued to and sunk into a corner of his bedroom beside his dresser. He looked small despite being made out of a fair amount of muscle but with the recent weight loss, it came as no surprise that he was slimmer than usual. Even so, when he was scrunched up like this he could be mistaken for a teen. He was muttering to himself about something. It was hard to tell but his eyes flickered around as if following something.

"Grayson, what're you doing?"

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Dick shouted. He grabbed a shoe and raised his arm as though to throw it but stalled. He tried to make it look like it was as a threat rather than him hesitating. Damian frowned and took a step forward. He knew that the older thrived on touch. Unlike many of his family members, hugs were never something he shyed away from. They were something he actively sought so surely if he was upset now then they were the best method. That hypothesis was wrong when the shoe was finally thrown but luckily Damian could dodge it. Not that it was hard to do so anyway. 

"Calm down."

"You're not real," the acrobat whispered harshly. He grabbed onto his hair and started tugging. Damian was no stranger to this behaviour, he noticed that Dick often calmed himself down by twirling his hair or giving it a little tug. Perhaps because the pain or the sensation was harder to hallucinate so it made things feel more real. What he was a stranger to was how hard Dick was pulling. He was ripping hair out of his head in chunks. Now, Dick's hair was thick but if he kept up with this, he wouldn't be able to hide the spots. 

"I am very much real," Damian responded. 

"You're not. You're not. Just gotta- If I say," he stumbled and trailed off too many times for his words to be fully intelligible. The younger quickly felt out of his depth but everyone else was out on patrol. They'd been preemptive in thinking he'd sleep through the night but not optimistic enough to leave him alone whilst his mental health was so shaky. Blue eyes snapped onto him and although they were glassy with tears, there was some rage behind them. Like the sea on a storm. 

"Grayson, breathe. We saved you and brought you back to the Manor."

"You're not fucking real! Go away!"

"How can I convince you that I am real?" Damian asked, his frustration mounting. He did tough love but right now he wasn't sure that his older brother could take that. 

"You can't tell me something I know because I know it," he muttered. "Breathe in and breathe out," he added, just for himself. "Record..." He suddenly shot up off the floor and began scrambling around the room in search of something. 

"What're you looking for?"

"Ignore them and breathe. Ignore them and breath." He wasn't repeating his own words, Damian realised. Some doctor or other must've told him how to deal with hallucinations. "Just breathe." He finally found what he was looking for after looking through three drawers and pulled out his phone. It looked like a disposable prepaid phone so it wasn't his actual cellphone. He fumbled about with it for a minute as he paced on the other side of the room. He closed his eyes and took hitching deep breaths. "Hallucination history: full body, auditory, smell. Not place. Not phones."

"I don't doubt that."

"I don't hallucinate phones," he repeated. "No prior history. I can trust a photo or video." He played with the phone a bit more before blowing out a sigh and taking a video. "Say something."

"Grayson, I am real." 

"Sure, that uh. Hm. Don't usually do what I say," he mumbled. He stopped the recording and watched it back. Seeing as Damian was actually there, he wasn't surprised when Dick saw him on the recording. 

A few moments passed before Dick took a seat on his bed. He leaned over and put his head in one hand whilst the other kept a tight grip on the phone, seemingly not noticing the strands of hair stuck between his fingers. He kept replaying the video. Watching it intently as though it was the only thing that would save him despite the real deal being right there in the room. Damian simply stood rather awkwardly. He didn't know what he was waiting for but he knew he had to see something different before he felt like he could close in. 

"You were so real in there," Dick said suddenly. "You kept going on about you being the best Robin. How it's my fault you died. My fault Jason died. My fault so many have died." He swallowed thickly. "All got one thing in common Grayson. You," he added. 

"I wouldn't say that to you."

"You would have. Before you cared about me. Well, cared about what people thought I guess."

"I care about you," Damian replied defensively. "Have I done something to make you think differently?"

"You're like your dad. And Jason. And Tim. It's funny almost. I stick out like a sore thumb even though not one of you would be here, like this, without me," he snapped. "You always wonder why I don't know you give a shit about me."

"I do."

"You treated me like a gum stuck to the underside of your shoe for half the time you knew me. The second half, well, you care when you want something." Damian's eyes narrowed.

"You're attempting to push me away."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"I do but you're doing it all wrong. Hitting the wrong points. You want me mad not hurt. You're hitting previous behaviour I've since mended, you're talking about your legacy that I know you have issues with but not this issue in particular and you aren't looking me." Dick glanced up at him. 

"Better?"

"No. You haven't mentioned my mother." The acrobat shrunk in on himself. "I know how to anger you and how to make you leave me alone. I know to talk about you being fired. You know to talk about my mother or my grandfather. You have failed to mention either. You want me to go but I don't think you're ready to burn the bridge, metaphorically speaking." He walked closer to the bed and sat by the foot of it, leaving a good enough amount of space between them to avoid setting him off. "Why do you wish for me to go?" Dick shook his head. "Truly, I wish to know. Why do you want me to go? Why do you want to go back to being alone when you have just been let out of isolation?"

"Because," the older began. He went a short while without following it up.

"Because?"

"Because I don't like this," he concluded. "I've dealt with it on my own. I see a psychiatrist, I learn skills, I don't tell anyone even when I know Barbara and Kori have seen the medication in the cabinet and Donna was the one who told me to go in the first place. I do all that because of this bit where you sit with me and we just- we change."

"Change is inevitable," Damian tutted.

"This change is you seeing me as some weak-"

"I'll prevent you from continuing because frankly it's too early in the morning to hear you berate yourself. We can speak of those matters later." 

"You shouldn't be dealing with it anyway," Dick grumbled. He wasn't angry with him though. Angry at something obscure. Like the very idea of it. "You should go back to bed."

"I'd rather not leave you alone."

"I won't do anything."

"I'm aware," he replied. He knew, rather grimly, that if Dick tried he would do so when he was alone and make sure he'd be difficult to find. "But I don't know how long you've been there for. I'd like to be here sooner. You don't look good bald."

"No?"

"No. Unfortunately, that tragic mullet you have is your best look."

"Thanks Lil D," he said through a chuckle. It was a poor imitation of his real laugh but it was something. "I can take the chair."

"No, you'll take the bed. Just don't steal the blanket." 

They settled in for the night and somewhere along the way they migrated to be a mingle of limbs. Damian was just happy to know Dick slept.

"You've got to take it. It'll help," Tim insisted. Dick continued to glare at the tablet sitting on the tray. He picked it up and inspected it carefully. 

"Where's the bottle?" he asked.

"Locked in a cabinet somewhere," the younger responded. He didn't feel too comfortable giving the exact location away even though Dick would never be left unattended for long enough for anything to happen. "Do you want to see it?" He nodded.

"I want you to take one too. Prove it's safe," he stated. "I won't take it otherwise."

"I can't take it. It's prescription."

"Prescribed by who? Who put it in the bottle? How do I know you didn't swap out the bottles? Could be a sedative, could make me sick. I want someone else to take it," he insisted, squinting his eyes in suspicion at his brother's hesitance. "I want to see it come out the bottle, I want to see them take it and I want to wait to see if it does anything first."  

Admittedly, it hurt a little that he didn't trust them completely but he knew logically it wasn't from anything they'd done. He knew Dick would trust them with anything usually but right now he was hurt. His thoughts would be disorganised, he couldn't trust what he saw. Tim supposed that it was progress and that he wanted to see someone take it rather than insist it could never be safe. The issue was it wasn't safe for someone it wasn't made for. It could have a sedative effect, they could be confused and it could cause irregular thoughts which would all read as danger signs not to take it for Dick. 

"Alright, let me go get the bottle and we'll see what we can do," he said. Dick relaxed a little at his acceptance of the deal. 

"Can you do the same with my food? Just have one bite of everything?" Tim agreed and took a crisp, bite of the sandwich and one of the strawberries in the container. He waited for as long as it was for Dick to follow suit. "Thank you."

"It's no problem. I'll be back soon, okay?"

Thankfully, Bruce was easy to find. He'd started to hang around where his son was, not necessarily entering the space but being over-prepared to do so. Maybe he thought his presence was only wanted when it was needed but that wasn't something Tim wanted to concentrate on.

"He won't take his medication," he began. "He'll only take it if he sees someone else have it first and he needs to see it come out the bottle so I can't even begin to think about a placebo and he'll notice all my slight off-hand tricks because you taught them to him too."

"But he's willing to take it if he sees us doing it?" Bruce clarified.

"Yeah, but we can't-"

"I can. He knows what I've taught him but not everything I know," he replied simply. 

"As soon as he catches wind of you faking it, he won't trust us." 

"He won't catch me out."

"Hello Dick," Bruce greeted. He was pleased to see most of the meal had been eaten, all the strawberries gone, the crisps now crumbled and only a bite left of the sandwich. It wouldn't give Dick the fat he needed to make up for the weight he lost from being trapped but it was a good start. 

"Did Tim tell you?" he asked instead of a greeting. 

"He did indeed." 

"Are you here to tell me it's stupid? Because my medication is prescribed?" The billionaire shook his head and took out the pill bottle. He passed it over to Dick, allowing him to inspect it but making it very clear that he wasn't going to keep it. When he was happy with his inspection, he returned it. "You'll take it?"

"I will."

"And I can wait to see if it does anything to you?" 

"You can. We'll wait as long as you need." Dick wrung his hands anxiously. Obviously he hadn't expected for his terms to be taken seriously. Maybe he was half expecting to get drugged against his will because he knew he had to take it. Bruce hated that, at one time, he would've done that. He wouldn't be doing this if Dick had the same condition five years ago. "I'm not mad."

"You usually are."

"Not this time." He opened the bottle and tipped out two pills. He put one on the tray and then kept the other in his hand. "You have a right to be wary, Dick. Part of it is my own doing. I taught you to be cautious."

"Don't placate me like that," his ward snapped before wincing at himself. "I know I'm being paranoid. I know you wouldn't hurt me and I know Leslie would never tamper with my dosages but a week ago I couldn't convince myself this was real. A week before that, I didn't know what was real. How can I be sure that right now, there's not some secret plan to get rid of me or something?" He tutted at himself. "Enough villains poison a water supply and you start switching to bottled." 

"It's understandable. You've made progress all the same so don't let this be the thing that makes you think you haven't made any," Bruce replied. He spoke easily before popping the pill into his mouth and taking some water to swallow it. He could do without the water but it made it easier. Then, he opened his mouth and moved his tongue around so his foster son could see there was nothing in there. "Good?"

"Good," he answered. "Thank you. I never- I didn't have this problem when I started them before. Being paranoid about the pills being something else, I mean. When the doctor suggested them, I was the one who pushed for the prescription because I knew I needed them. I knew it would help. I knew that if I took them I wouldn't-" He stopped himself, tightening his grip to make fists and leaving crescent imprints in his palms. Bruce swiftly separated his hands and kept a loose grip of them just so he wouldn't hurt himself. "I just knew that I should take them but now I can't trust them. The hallucinations were worse too. What if this is a sign I'm gonna get worse instead of better? How can I protect people if I don't even know the people are really there- if I'm really there?"

"You were isolated, detoxing cold turkey, malnourished and dehydrated. All of those can cause-"

"Hallucinations, I know. I just don't like that they were different. I could depend on them being the same every time, the same person haunting me like a ghost, but I'm not used to seeing anyone else," he responded. "I think I can take it now. You haven't died." He picked up the pill and swallowed it, cringing at the taste. 

"Let me see."

"I told you I'd take it."

"I'd like to see for myself." The acrobat huffed but opened his mouth all the same. Satisfied, Bruce gave him a nod and stood up. "For however long it takes, we will do this. You and me."

"Why you?"

"I didn't get to you in time. It's the least I can do." Dick made a face at that but the emotion couldn't be quite placed. He glanced down to the plate and then to the window. "It's a nice day."

"It is. Am I allowed outside?"

"Of course you are."

"With someone or alone?"

"Which would you rather?" The acrobat chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully before taking the tray off of his lap. He hadn't left his room in a while let alone the manor. He doubted he'd been outside for more than five minutes since he went into isolation. He was probably vitamin D deficient about now. He'd like to say that he wanted to be alone but the words got stuck in his throat. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to be a bother to people and that was different. That was what got him trapped in the first place. 

"Whose free?" he asked instead. 

"Myself and Tim." 

"Both of you?"

"We'd like to spend time with you."

"Even if I get paranoid or irritable? I know I was short with Tim earlier. I know I've been lashing out."

"Perhaps," Bruce began slowly as he thought over his words. Although he didn't know which particular emotion had flashed across his ward's face before, he knew it wasn't one he wished to see again when he was trying to come from a place of sincereity. "Perhaps we could talk about it. You always opened up more on rooftops than in here. We don't have to if you don't want to."

"There's nothing to talk about really," he replied but not unkindly. "I just get like that sometimes. It's not been bad since I was a teenager. After Jason died and I saw him all the time, Donna noticed I was reacting to nothing and muttering to no one. She told me to see someone and I don't know why I didn't fight her on it." He smirked to himself. "Maybe because she'd kick my ass to next Tuesday if I didn't. I'm glad she made me. You never would have."

"No, I wouldn't have," Bruce admitted. Oddly enough, that seemed to be the thing that made Dick look him in the eye for a first time in a while. "I didn't do right by you often but I want to do right by you now. In whatever way I can."

"Then get some clothes out of my dresser. I think some air would be nice."

Just for a moment, if you glanced at Dick instead of truly looking at him as he sat on the bench cheering on Bruce and Tim's chess match as though it were high school football, you'd think he was back to normal. He wasn't of course. He wouldn't be for a long time and he'd always have ups and downs. He'd learned that recovery was never a straight line no matter what he was recovering from but he knew that he wasn't on his own at the very least. He also knew he wasn't going to be walking into potential crime scenes without telling someone first anymore.