cw: prescription withdrawal and generally having a rough time with symptoms so if you don't want to see someone struggling with their mental health, i suggest ya wait till next week

also if i get anything wrong, please let me know so it can be changed sooner!! i don't experience all the symptoms shown here so i can only go from things I've read and the experience of being friends with those with these symptoms - mental health rep is important so i want it to be as good as i can make it <3 

All things considered, Damian and Dick didn't find this kidnapping that awful. Granted they were stuck in the middle of nowhere in a room about the size of a motel but they had a bathroom and mattresses that weren't full of fibreglass. That was basically the height of kidnapping and he attributed it to their status as Robin and Nightwing. They got food and water too. Really, they were in the ritz kidnapping-wise. So when the first night came and they hadn't been saved yet, there was no real issue. They'd theorised some ways to break out but they had no idea where they were nor who they were up against so they couldn't justify the risk of trying anything when they were going in that blind. Besides, they had okay accommodation to stay in so it's not like they couldn't wait. They'd be picked up in a day or two right?

Then day two came and no one had come for them yet. None of the people who gave them food and water spoke to them so there was no way of getting information both on whether their family had been contacted or what they were doing there. All their gear had been stripped too so they couldn't check in to see if this was some sort of long-term play that was just safer than going in guns blazing. 

That wasn't the main problem though. Damian had noticed that Dick was antsy that day. Too antsy for it to simply be boredom of being in one space or not knowing when they were going to be broken out. It was a different type of antsy. One that was combined with nervous stims such as shaking his hands, excessively twisting and twirling his hair and biting his nails down until it hurt to chew on them any further. He'd been fine the day before but today he was pacing the room with this energy that was both too hyper and too sluggish, swinging madly between the two. He didn't want any of the food they were brought so Damian got to have both of their meals after some arguing on how they'd need their energy for their potential break out. His face was pinched near the end of the day and when asked, he brushed it off as just a little headache.

On the third day, Dick had gotten worse. He usually jumped focus between things anyway so Damian was used to keeping up with a train of thought he didn't always understand but could appreciate. The acrobat struggled to focus on any topic but kept coming back to the issue of being too warm and hating the feeling of sweating despite the room being at a normal temperature. His appetite hadn't returned either and by midday, he'd climbed into bed and not gotten up since. It was worrying, more so than the kidnapping situation. Damian knew he couldn't have been drugged with anything because they'd been sharing the same foods and he'd skipped his previous meals. They never left the room and they were never separated so there was no way something could've been slipped to the hero in secret. 

Day four was more of the same only this time, Dick refused to leave his bed. He didn't sleep though. He simply tossed and turned seemingly never comfortable no matter what position he ended up in. Attempts at conversations went down like lead balloons and Bruce would rival him in showing engagement in a topic. Damian wondered if he was sick but he was showing no other symptoms than restlessness, loss of appetite and anxiety. No running nose, no stomach bug or fever. He just simply wasn't well and it was driving the young teen up the wall. Had Dick been broken that quickly when there was no sign of rescue? The part of him that was angry at the delay that had presumably caused his brother to deteriorate so quickly bled through his voice when he voiced his concerns.

"What's wrong with you? All you've done is lay there." Dick looked impossibly tired, exhaustion you simply didn't get from a lack of sleep painting his features as he stared at him. There was no reply for a moment as the acrobat seemed to be going over his question in his head but his expression didn't change to the slight smile that Damian was familiar with whenever they spoke. His face looked odd without it.

"Robin, I really don't want to talk about this."

"Well, I want to! It's only been a few days and yet you're content to sit there and rot. You're not eating. We don't know how long it will take for the others to collect us so tell me why you seem so content on rotting away here." His outburst stirred something in the older man. Maybe fear of being caught out or a need to comfort his younger brother but it was something Damian relished in it since it was the most he'd gotten in the last two days. That didn't seem so long but it felt like forever.

"Robin-"

"Tell me what's wrong. I need to know why you're acting like this, I deserve to know." Dick's eyes went glassy and he drew a shaky breath. He seemed ashamed about whatever he was going to admit and the younger had to admit that he was more than worried about what was coming. 

"I'm going through withdrawals."

Oh. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. He was expecting some kind of admission that Dick feared they weren't going to be rescued or that he didn't want to be in some way. Damian didn't know what to do with the answer he'd received. He sat down on the end of the acrobat's mattress, letting himself sink into the springs and settling his gaze somewhere else. Anger was the first thing to come to mind. How could he? Nightwing going through withdrawals? He'd been on drugs when they were captured and Damian never suspected a thing. 

"What're you on? What dealer am I to dispose of when we return home?" he asked through gritted teeth. With more energy than he'd seen in the last few days combined, the older shot up and shook his head.

"Prescribed drugs! Jesus, I'm not- I'd never!"

"What're they for?"

"I don't want to talk about my medical history." 

"I have a right to know," Damian insisted.

"Do you? Or do you just feel entitled to know?" he snapped back. A beat passed and he seemed to regret it. "I...I have ADHD and depression, sometimes hallucinations so I got prescribed some stuff to keep me focused and some stuff to make sure I don't focus on or see yknow...bad stuff." His eyes never found the emerald ones inspecting him closely, searching his expression for any type of lie. 

"You've missed at least three days' worth of medication."

"Four. On our first day here I was running on the last of my previous day's dosage."

"Is that why you've been so despondent?"

"Yeah. Withdrawals suck."

Day five is more of the same although now Damian is the one pacing the room. He knows Dick isn't sleeping at night. He closes his eyes and pretends but he's not sleeping. Those dark circles prove it. Plus sometimes Damian woke up to the sound of sniffles but he made an effort not to stir too much and force himself to go back to sleep. He caught Dick pressing his hands against his ears at some points, muttering to someone but the conversation was never loud enough for him to properly make out. When they're given their food, Damian makes sure that his brother eats even if he wasn't hungry. It took a good hour or so but it's progress. It was that day that Dick breaks down. It wasn't even that big of a thing that set him off. He'd dropped the paper cup of water and spilt it on the floor. There was hardly any water in it by that time so it would only leave a puddle for a few hours but the mistake had him in tears. Once he was in tears, he rambled from apologizing about the water to apologizing for his behaviour to saying he was going to be left here as a punishment to then apologizing for saying that because he didn't mean for it to sound like being stuck with Damian was a punishment. The teen sat with him as he cried which only seemed to make things worse because Dick was supposed to be the "big brother" and he shouldn't need to be comforted but the moment he was left alone, he looked so broken and lost. Damian had never been trained in how to help people going through withdrawals but he hid any panic he held.

"It wouldn't be this bad if I was just on one of them," Dick mentioned. Maybe it was an attempt to fill in the dead air or simply a statement to the room because he couldn't sleep again. Either way, Damian made a curious sound to make him continue. "My psychiatrist said that if I ever wanted to come off them, I'd have to do it gradually. Otherwise, it would make me worse."

"How long have you been on the medication?"

"Few years. Been on and off for a while," he replied. His voice was quiet and croaky but it wouldn't be fixed by water. It was the same as the bone-deep exhaustion. There was just no fixing it and Damian felt so utterly helpless. "Do you...do you think of me differently now?"

"No, why would I?"

"I don't know. People get this perception about it. Especially about the anti-psychotics. Blame our villains for that."

"It's only the same as painkillers, is it not? Some people are able to manage their pain holistically and without medication and others require pain medication to handle it." He heard Dick laugh. It was quiet and soft and nothing like his usual cackle but God did it lift a weight off his chest. 

"Sometimes you say such wise shit it's almost impossible to remember you're the guy who bit someone because they chose your character in Mario Kart." A small part of him swelled with pride that he'd been the one to cause the laugh and it was solidified by the mention of the memory. "We should play again. No biting this time though."

"I'll try. Hopefully, he's learned his lesson not to choose Princess Daisy."

"I don't care as long as I get to be Rosalina."

"Because she's blue?"

"Because she lost her mum too and found a family with the Lumas." Oh. "She gets to visit her home every 100 years but her mum is never gonna be there when she visits. I feel the same when I see the circus." He turned to Damian with a ghost of a smile. "And I have like fifty siblings now so you guys are the Lumas."

"I will give you a pass on the Luma comment."

"Thanks."

Day six is the worst. Dick can't get comfortable but he doesn't have the energy to move around anymore despite wanting to move around the room. The only time that he can sleep is when Damian is running his fingers through his hair which is matted from the constant nervous twirling and tugging so the teen takes his time to gently undo the knots. It's weirdly domestic given their circumstances and he gets a sense of nostalgia from Dick doing the same to his hair when he was sick. Whilst Dick slept, Damian was free to glare at the wall silently berating and cursing his family for taking so long. He knew most of the symptoms of withdrawals were being hidden from him and he can't believe that they were not here to stop it from going on. It's not fair. They better have the best excuse for not finding them sooner. He doesn't get long to seethe though because Dick is soon fitful in his rest and crying out for people who can never come to comfort him.

"They will be here soon, I promise," Damian insisted. "We'll make sure you're okay."

"I'm so sorry," the older whispered. "I'm so so sorry. You shouldn't be doing this you're just a kid."

"I help plenty of people older than myself and you have helped me more than I think you know."

"He just keeps sitting there and watching. I can't take it."

"Who?"

"Jason," he whimpered. "I know he's not really there but it's so fucking real. I can't do this again."

"Just close your eyes," Damian ordered not knowing what else to do. "He's not there, I promise. It's just you and I. You're going to be okay."

Previously, Damian thought day six was the worst but day seven really took the cake because there was no crying that day just a long silence that drew on. Dick made no move to eat or drink or move from his curled-up spot on the mattress. His hands periodically squeezed his forearms, sometimes his nails dug in and Damian would slap his hands to get them to stop. At least it gave him something to do. He hadn't told Dick that he was beginning to doubt their rescue. They'd been there so long with the stale air and cramped space that he was beginning to imagine things. Voices and noises. Logically he knew they weren't there because it wasn't possible but it didn't stop his heart from pounding when he was trying to sleep despite the footsteps travelling around the room. He wanted desperately to go home. He wanted his brother to get help because he couldn't stand the way he was so quiet. It was like he was dead. 

On day eight they were finally rescued. They'd woken up that morning to the sound of shouting distantly and the pair had looked at one another with the hope that this was their chance of leaving. Dick did his best to get out of bed and prepare himself but his joints were stiff from being curled up the day before combined with the days he'd remained in bed. He was in no position to fight both mentally and physically. He hadn't been eating, Damian reminded himself. He'd have no energy for a big brawl. It felt like hours before the noises stopped outside and the heavy metal door that had entrapped them finally opened. Batman stood there and immediately they both knew how guilty he felt. There was an air about him that was clear from the way he didn't look at them. Only looking past their shoulders. 

"Are you boys alright?"

"We're-"

"He went through withdrawals. He should see a doctor," Damian interrupted.

"Alfred will see to you," Batman added, facing his oldest but also not looking at him properly. His tone suggested that the withdrawals had come as no surprise to him. It only made the anger Damian held come back up because if this came as no surprise then he'd been completely aware that the longer they were left the worse things would become. "Batgirl is collecting your possessions. We'll meet her out there."

"You knew? And you left us here?" the teen asked, his voice bordering on shouting.

"I didn't leave anyone anywhere. They were blocking the signals from your trackers." Before Damian could argue further, Dick put a hand on his shoulder. It was a small gesture but one that told him this wasn't his fight. He huffed in response but didn't continue the argument. 

"Let's just get outta here. I've got the super fun process of readjusting to medication to look forward to."