TW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, UNDERAGE DRINKING AND SMOKING

https://rapecrisis.org.uk/get-help/looking-for-information/rape-crisis-services/helplines-emotional-support/

https://www.itv.com/thismorning/rape-helplines

I think the ending of that one needed something a little lighter? I don't know

Again if I have done something that is offensive it was not my intention and please point out what it is so I can make changes quickly

Six months later

Dick was different after that. Nobody expected him to be the same but expecting something and then actually seeing it were two different things. He didn't like hugs anymore. He couldn't stand his Robin suit now but he kept that fact to himself. He was a lot more violent when he was on the streets. His happy-go-lucky attitude was long since dead. In therapy, he was quiet. He waited for his time with Dinah to run out without uttering much more than a hello. One time he decided to put in his earphones and listen to YouTube videos for the entire hour, completely ignoring all her attempts to start a conversation. Cass found him smoking on a few occasions. Damian found him drunk at 1 am, a bottle of Bruce's whiskey in hand and tears staining his face. He trained a lot more. No matter how many times they told him he was going to hurt himself going at the pace he was, he never stopped. He was determined to not let it happen again. Sleep was something he knew nothing of. Dick would nap here and there but he'd spend most of the night awake, a cigarette in hand as he watched the sunrise. Some days he wondered why the empty feeling would linger there. It wasn't like he could go back in time and stop it. Still, it felt like at any moment he'd be back in that room. When he had the moments of reliving it, he always hoped someone would come before it began. He knew they wouldn't but he still hoped. Dick planned on never changing his ways. He planned to keep going till he died either due to the alcohol, his night job, or the excessive chain-smoking. That was until, by chance, he talked to Harley Quinn.

He was Robin at the time. He was on a smoke break on some rooftop. He'd turned off his communicator, not wanting to be bothered by some fake emergency call to an intervention to address his behaviour. It'd happened six times already. He only kept falling for it because there were so many real emergencies between them. Now though? If they were in trouble, they could wait until he finished.

"Sup birdbrain," Harley Quinn greeted.

"Have you come here to kidnap me? If so, do it now so I don't waste my cigs," he replied bluntly. She sat down beside him, her feet dangling over the edge as she made them sway every so often. She looked out onto Gotham's skyline with a soft expression on her face. Robin couldn't quite tell what that expression was. It seemed calm but Harley was never calm. He stared at her suspiciously but shrugged it off. 

"No kidnapping today I'm afraid. Too much work. Plus I still have a crick in my neck since you beat me up the last time," she answered. 

"Oh. Yeah. Caught me on a bad day," he explained briefly. He pulled out his cigarette and lit it, offering one to the sort of villain. She was in a grey space at the moment. Neither friend nor foe. He didn't mind. She put a hand up, declining the offer. 

"Seems like that's all you have nowadays," she muttered. "I thought only one of you smoked. Bad influence?" Robin didn't reply. "Never thought I'd hear your smartass go silent," she stated. He hummed, hardly paying much attention to her. He focused his eyes on the streets below before blinking harshly at imagining the stain that'd be there if he just jumped off. "I know all you Robins wanna be Batman someday but did you really have to start now?"

"Don't like it, don't stay here. It's my break after all. Woulda preferred to spend it alone."

"Would you?" Harley asked. There was something about her tone that made Robin shift uncomfortably. 

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Oh come on, humour me. What made the fireball I know turn into a wet blanket?" He shifted uncomfortably again. He didn't like her asking so many questions. Harley seemed to notice this and turned to him, pulling her legs back in so she could have her body face him. He had her undivided attention. And it sucked.

At first, she was just as quiet as he was. Harley knew he was stubborn and Robin knew she was stubborn too. There was something about her though. Part of him was screaming for him to give in and tell her everything. Then the more rational part would step in. A man died so the secret would be kept. He couldn't go blabbing it to every Tom, Dick, and Harry. Not to mention Harley's intermediate loyalties. 

"Let me spin you a yarn," she stated. "Being with Joker was hell. I'd do everything I could to please him but nothing would work. I was so enamoured with the guy, looking back I have no idea why I liked him so much." She watched his face carefully. He wondered if she was waiting for him to react to something. What that something was, he didn't know. "You won't be surprised when I say he was abusive. Verbally." No reaction. "Physically." No reaction. "Sexually." Bingo. "Oh, Robin."

"What?" he spat. He hated that sympathetic tone. It always made him feel pathetic. Like he was some sort of damsel in distress that needed saving.

"It's why you smoke, isn't it? Why you're more violent too I'm guessin," she answered. He stiffened up. "It feels horrible. Like someone took something from you that you can never get back." He concentrated on the cigarette in his hand. He didn't need her half-hearted excuse for comforting words. Some bullshit philosophy she made up in Arkham on the back end of electroshock therapy. "But what they took, you don't need." Robin turned to her.

"Of course I fucking need it," he snapped. So she was crazy and stupid. 

"Who says? People don't know. It's not visible. What matters about what happened is taking your life back. I'm not saying get over it or that it didn't matter to you. I'm saying get help so you can get back to how you were. Work on who you are." He inhaled the smoke and then blew it back out. Maybe he didn't have to be so dismissive of her. They shared trauma. She was crazy sure but she was trying to make him feel better for no reason other than good faith. In her own weird way, she cared about him. Maybe he shouldn't take that for granted. 

"Is that what you did?" Robin asked.

"After a while. It was hard but I didn't have what you had. Your family cares Robin and I'm sure they want to do everything they can to help including giving you the best therapist they can get," she insisted. She was right. His family would gladly do anything to make all this hurt go away. He didn't doubt they wished they could trade places. "I know it feels like you'll never get beyond it and that you can never go back to how you were before but you will. Trust your Auntie Harls." Robin hummed and put out his cigarette. He watched the end of it die then flicked it off the edge. He glanced up at the woman. 

"Thanks."

Dinah sighed as she waited for Dick to arrive. Another hour of sitting in silence. It was breaking her heart. She prepared her pad of notes, knowing there would be nothing on it by the end of the session. A few moments later, Dick walked in and sat down. This was one of the rare times he didn't smell of cigarettes. That was already an odd occurrence. He pulled his legs up and sat crossed-legged. Odd again. Normally he was quite stiff. Both feet usually stuck to the floor as though they were glued there and his hands stuffed into his pockets. 

"Good afternoon Dick, how are we feeling today?" she asked.

"Shitty." She was immediately taken by surprise. She got an actual answer. Usually, she was met by a low mumble of something unintelligible or silence.

"Why do you feel shitty?"

"I didn't sleep much. Haven't in a while. Trying to quit smoking too and it's not really jamming with me," he answered. Dinah noted that down. Wow, she was actually going to have some notes for this session. She might get somewhere. 

"Is work keeping you up?"

"No. It's uh it's the nightmares," he admitted. He started to fiddle with his jumper. There was a piece of thread on it that he could pull on. Cutting it would probably do but he didn't mind. 

"Do you feel comfortable telling me what you see? You don't have to."

"I'm back in that bed. He's there. It happens but this time Cass never found me afterwards. She finds everyone else but not me. It happens again. And again." His eyes glazed over. "I feel so dirty all the time. No matter how many times I have a shower or how long I spend in there."

"Do you know why that is?"

"I thought he took something from me. I've never even kissed someone before. Suddenly now I'm not a virgin and I've gone all the way with someone I didn't know." He went quiet for a moment, his mind going back to the rooftop with Harley. "But it doesn't have to be that way, does it?"

"Of course not. Victims of these offences tend to count it out if you understand me." Dick nodded, watching her note a few things down.

"I'd like to consider myself still a virgin. I think losing your V-Card needs to be consensual and with someone you care about." She smiled softly. There was a small spark in the other's eyes. It wasn't as bright as it had once been but it was finally there after so long. "Can I tell you something?" Dinah nodded. Wow, he was opening up without being prompted. "I stopped being huggy like I used to be and for the most part I told myself I didn't care but..." He wiped at his eyes so Dinah offered him the tissue box. He took it gratefully. "It's just that Cass found me. I was crying so hard and I didn't have my clothes on or anything. I know that she thinks about it. The way she looks at me and talks to me. And I know everyone feels guilty for what happened but it's the fact she saw me. She needed me to be okay or at least how I used to be when I was sad. She needed me to be clingy I think."

"Does it upset you that you weren't clingy?"

"Yeah. Like a whole lot," he said through a hollow laugh. "I really wanted to hug her. I wanted to be by her side and hug her till she felt okay but I couldn't. I wanted her to hug me and tell me I'm more than that day. My brain made me think that everyone's hands were his hands and if I let them get too close it would happen all over again. I needed something to stop that so I smoked. Tried drinking but it reminded me of those drunks I beat up because they messed up their kids. Hangovers also made school even worse."

"People respond to trauma in different ways and wanting to be clingy after being touch adverse is okay. That's how you deal with your emotions. It's healthier than smoking that's for sure. Don't think that it will invalidate your experience or that changing your mind now is wrong. I'm going to suggest that you let yourself be clingy. When you want physical affection, ask for it."

"They won't be annoyed by it you think?"

"Dick, your family will be happy you're asking for help. I think it'll be good for both you and them. By taking an active role in comforting you, it'll help with their guilt. Allowing yourself to ask for that help means you've got the support when you're struggling. You don't have to do anything for them but you should do everything for yourself." Dick nodded.

"Uhm, Cass?" Dick called. Cass was sitting in the library, reading a book on addiction. He guessed she'd noticed his plan to quit smoking and wanted to help. She looked up from her book attentively. "Are you busy?" She shook her head. He walked in and sat beside her. Honestly, it felt sort of awkward to ask for what he wanted. He'd been feeling low and hugging his pillows wasn't really working. Cass was the only one in at the moment and she probably needed a cuddle session as much as he did. 

"Okay?" she inquired, a worried tone framing her query.

"Would you mind if we hugged for a bit?" She smiled brightly.

"Like before?" she asked. He nodded shyly. She laid down in a comfortable position, her book still in hand, and tapped her chest so he would join. He crawled up to her and got comfortable too, wrapping his limbs around her. At first, he was tense. It felt like Tony. He squeezed his eyes closed and gripped Cass a little tighter. He wanted this so badly. He didn't want this to be ruined. Then he felt fingers run through his hair. It was such a small gesture yet it made a world of difference. He looked up to his sister who was reading the book quietly. 

"Could you read for me?" She gave him another smile and nodded. The book was in another language, something she'd made a habit of it to keep her grasp on the ones she didn't use daily. He didn't mind though. It felt...nice. 

"Crying," she stated, brushing his face. He sniffled a little and wiped the tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm just really tired." More than tired but he didn't want to tell her all that.

"Sleep here. Not busy." He nodded and snuggled up to her. He could finally relax. Maybe he could go back to the usual.