hurt/no comfort time with this one bby

When someone comes up to you and tells you that they've been hit with a truth serum, the usual reaction is to check that they're not just joking with you. Why not, right? If they're lying, you'd probably guess by the answer or their body language as they gave it, and if they weren't, you'd finally know how they feel for real. So when Dick went into the cave with a huff because he'd been hit with a truth serum and couldn't be trusted to be on his own for fear of leaking sensitive information, Jason (who'd been at the Batcave to pick up a newly fixed helmet) asked him the first thing that popped into his head. Okay, maybe it hadn't been the first thing but he'd been thinking on it for a while because Dick was a master at covering his true feelings. He had to be to reign in that classic "I wasn't taught how to manage my emotions in a healthy way" anger that he'd only let slip a few times over the years. Mainly with killing Joker but nobody brought that up. In front of Jason now was a blank slate and he decided to finally have a question answered that he knew Dick would lie about had he not been doused with truth serum.

"What do you think about Bruce? Good guy? Bad guy?" Bruce glared at him for taking advantage as did his brother but that didn't stop the words from falling out of his mouth.

"It's complicated, he's not necessarily a bad guy but I wouldn't say he's a great guy either," Dick replied before slapping his hand across his mouth. His mentor looked at him as though confused but he really shouldn't be. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't the world's best person even for all the good he did as Batman but not many heroes had no skeletons hiding in their closets. "I mean you annoy me so much. Sometimes I think about killing you. I think about how I'd do it because I know I could kill you since you taught me to for those stupid plans of yours." The acrobat tried again to shut his mouth forcefully but his other hand stopped those efforts. Whoever made this truth serum knew how to make it strong that was for sure and he was going to beat their asses again when they got out of the hospital. "Sometimes it's all I can think about because I get so mad with how you treat people, your family. Then I remember I can't kill you but not because I couldn't but because I shouldn't. It probably makes me a horrible person but you make me so mad I stare at you and think about killing you a thousand times over." He winced at the words, whilst Jason was enthralled with it all and silently wished he'd gotten popcorn ready for the roasting of a century. It felt almost validating to have someone think the same way even if they didn't preach about it as much as himself. "I want to tell you all the time so you won't see Jason in such a bad light because I think everyone you've been around has had that thought maybe not as much or even more but they've all thought it. You have more enemies than you may consider and the only thing keeping them from becoming that is their own-" he slammed his mouth shut, biting through his tongue but even that wasn't enough. He just successfully filled his mouth with the coppery taste of blood. "-personal beliefs and what you do not who you are." 

Dick went rigid as though anticipating a punch, but Bruce could only stare at him with what could be perceived as a shock if you studied his expression for long enough. He understood why he was speechless. It wasn't great that your kid was telling you that they wanted you dead sometimes and you knew it was the truth because they were forced to say so. The attempts to stop himself from going to the lengths it had were sobering enough. Dick quickly tried to shift focus onto his brother in hopes they could concentrate on him taking advantage and not what he'd said. Maybe then he could avoid the fallout and they could pretend it never happened like most things in their past.

"Jason!" the former Robin scolded.

"In my defence, that was more intense of an answer than I thought."

"In my defence, I literally cannot sugarcoat my words."

"You really want me dead sometimes?" Bruce asked. Did people really not understand that he was forced to tell the truth when asked a question? Did they not just hear that he couldn't put his words in a nicer way that didn't make him seem like an asshole? Did they not see he couldn't physically shut up?

"Yeah but that's not all the time," he argued. He thought he could leave it there but apparently not. "You have to admit that you've hurt me a lot in the past. I still like you it's just that I find myself loving the idea of who you were rather than who you are and that's when I think about the what-ifs. Especially with how you act around my siblings sometimes."

"Your siblings but not my children?"

"Yes, my siblings and not your kids! That's what happens when you don't raise them properly and leave me to pick up the pieces. That's what happens when they would rather come to me than to you so they break into my apartment every five minutes. Your actions have consequences and this is one of the many consequences," he snapped. 

"Damn, Dickie's on a war path," Jason muttered. 

"Would you stop it, Jason? This isn't fun! Surprisingly, having a bad dad and ripping him to shreds isn't fun. It's actually making me feel worse about things because this is what I've got left for a father figure."

"Don't act like you've never wanted to chew this guy out. I know you filter yourself now at least when you were yelling at each other you were getting the point across," he replied. Sure his intention had been to start drama and get a real answer to his question but it wasn't a totally evil motive. 

"I didn't consent to have this conversation! Everyone assumes "well he must want it" that I'm somehow secretly consenting even when I'm pushing her away-" he stopped himself. He hadn't been asked a question thankfully so he could keep his mouth shut tight. "I'm going to my room and I swear to God if anyone even asks how my day was I'm going to lose it." He stormed past them and ran up the stairs. Jason and Bruce shared a look before the former coughed awkwardly.

"So uh, need any help on fixing it?"

Dick decidedly hated truth serums. It was all fun and games in the shows he watched as a kid. They'd get a few good laughs from messing with the victim and then there'd be a moment of tension as they nearly revealed everything only for everything to be okay in the end. He couldn't recall any instances where the character tore their guardian a metaphorical new one whilst their brother egged them on. That would be too memorable to forget. God, Jason was so going to get it when he was fixed. He was going to paint all his helmets pink, maybe take his bike apart so it made a constant unspecified rattling noise or perhaps he could shove dirt into his guns and watch him pick it all out. What his brother didn't understand was that when he used to blow up at Bruce, nothing got better. All it did was push them further apart. That's not to say he wasn't angry anymore, that was clear from what he'd said, but he'd learned to direct it towards something else. Bruce only kept him around when he was easy and useful. Yelling about everything he did wrong wasn't easy nor was it useful. Sure some days he felt more like a friend than he did a son and it stung but what else did he have? There was no backup family to go to and Bruce showed just enough promise to keep him hanging on even when there was no real change made. Dick sighed to himself, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes until he was met with fireworks of pinks and greens on a background of black. He was tired but he couldn't sleep when he was practically seething at his brother. Well, he wasn't the only one he was royally pissed off at. 

Bruce had been so shocked when he admitted how he felt but was it really that shocking when he still depended on him to help with Damian and Tim's constant arguing? He'd sooner throw Dick to the dogs than step in and tell the pair they were just as bad as one another. Don't even get him started on Spyral or he might start throwing punches. Jason should've asked about that so it could finally be out in the open without consequence. He knew being the eldest came with responsibilities and he'd shouldered them without complaint previously but there'd been a reason, namely Bruce not physically being there. Yet here he was so why was he still slacking off? It wasn't like he didn't like his kids. Dick was angry at his guardian, yes but he always knew that he held love for his misshapen family. That's all that kept him going some days. It just didn't make any sense why he was so distant nowadays when he was more experienced than he ever had been with kids. Was it Dick? Did Dick break him?

The acrobat let out a sigh. That's where anger got him. Blaming himself for everything because he put so much weight on his own shoulders. Wally once told him if they made a sport for it, he'd win by a landslide and become a legend of the game. Of course, his friend had also followed up the comment by saying therapy would fix it and he took that to mean using google self-help advice instead of seeing a professional. He remembered the therapist Bruce had made him see before he was Robin and had nothing of value to hide. Their office always smelled too much of lavender and their glasses constantly slipped down their face in a way that annoyed him. They'd ask him leading questions, prod and poke at his psyche whilst completely obsessing over his parent's death and why he wasn't happier now that he had a stable home. Dick had lashed out because he was eight with anger issues and another therapist wasn't on the table. He couldn't say the therapist didn't deserve it. Maybe there were better ones nowadays but then again there were quite a few villains with PHDs. Harley had been a criminal psychologist/therapist at one point and now that she was reformed, maybe she'd take on patients again. 

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed a knock on the door nor his mentor poking his head into the room. 

"Hey," Bruce greeted awkwardly, catching his attention as he moved to sit at the end of the bed. 

"You should be working on fixing me," Dick replied coldly. He wasn't in the mood and just wanted to be left alone. Why was it when he wanted to be left alone, it could never happen but as soon as his mind begged for someone he was alone? There was humour in there somewhere beneath how pathetic it sounded. 

"It's synthesising. Needs about an hour until it's pure enough for me to be comfortable with." A moment of silence was shared between them, causing something heavy to settle over the room. "So, you want me dead. We should talk about that."

"I would rather not."

"Why's that?" Dick scowled at the question as Bruce cringed upon registering what he'd just done. The worst part of this truth serum that not enough kids' shows portrayed was that he couldn't even run away if he wanted to. He'd tried to will his legs to move in the cave but he'd only been able to escape when the questions were over. 

"I'm scared I'll fuck this up and you'll push me away like when I was younger. You're not a good father but you're all I've got for one," he answered.

"You're allowed to be mad at me. I've done a lot to hurt you and I'll likely do more in the future."

"Are we just gonna pretend you didn't react how you did when Jason died? After I was rightfully mad I wasn't told of his death and you told me to go away then the next thing I know, you've taken in Tim? Yeah, I was really allowed to be mad at you then. Fuck, want a more recent example? One word. Spyral."

"Look-"

"No, you look. I asked to be left alone and you're pushing your luck. This is just like what you did when I was a kid. You'd push my buttons until I got mad enough to bite back then act like it was unprovoked! I'm not allowed to be mad at you, I've dealt with it, so don't come in here with that bullshit." He glared at his mentor, hoping he got that pit in your stomach you get when you mess something up so bad it couldn't be fixed. Whatever familial ties they once had were now stretched thin and as much as deep down he ached for them to be strengthened, he wouldn't put himself through it. "You know I mean what I say right now so take my words as seriously as I mean them. The day you first laid a hand on me in anger is the day I was sure I was not your son. You confirm it every time you hurt me. I've accepted I'm more of your friend than I am your child so don't come in here because now you're starting to feel guilty over it."

"I've always felt guilty about it!"

"Guilty enough to tell them what really happened?" Bruce made no attempt to reply. "That's what I thought because for as much of a front you put up, you know you agree with what I'm saying. I love you, Bruce, as much as I can with how shit of a person you can be, but don't fucking push me or I'm going to do something you'll regret provoking." Another heavy silence hung over them.

"It'll be ready in an hour."

"Thanks. I'll leave once I've taken it."

"Probably for the best."

"Always is with you."