Dick Grayson One-Shots { requests open }

someone call cps because the way the yj team is treated can't be legal

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𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 (𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘆): n/a

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 738

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: After the Failsafe simulation, Dick struggles to come to term with his decisions as team leader.

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: ptsd

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Flash: dead.

Superman: dead.

Superboy: dead.

Aqualad: dead.

Artemis: dead.

Kid-Flash... Wally...: dead.

Batman... Bruce Wayne... the only family Dick had left...: dead.

Dick was alone— completely and totally alone. He'd sent Connor to his death... he'd sent Wally— his best friend— to his death...
All of it— it was his fault. His family was dead— everyone he loved... gone forever...

Dick himself was mere moments from death... he could feel it. However, he wasn't afraid— he was thankful. He didn't want to live in a world without Wally, without Artemis, without Bruce...
He couldn't wait for the blinding explosion to reach him... he couldn't wait to die...

Just before the fire took the young leader, though, he heard someone call his name. It was distant, but, still, clear as day.

Dick began to panic— someone else was about to die and it would his fault as well. Someone else was in that goddamn building and about to lose their life— all because of the choices he made...

'Dick!'

Dick's eyes flew open, a rough gasp escaping his chapped lips. Immediately, he saw a dark figure next to him. Hyperventilating and disoriented, he went into fight-or-flight mode. He thrashed around, doing his best to defend himself against his unknown assailant.

However, said assailant just wrapped his arms around the thirteen-year-old, whispering that it would be alright and that it was only a dream.

It was then that Dick realized he wasn't in the Failsafe simulation. He was in his bedroom at Wayne Manor and the man doing his best to comfort the boy was Bruce Wayne. Immediately, a wave of relief washed over the young teenager.

Soft sobs wracked his body as he buried his face against his surrogate father's silk robe. It'd felt so real... just as it had the day of the simulation...
Dick just couldn't get all the death out of his mind. What if it hadn't been a simulation? What if it had been real and he'd been responsible for his friends' deaths? What would he do? He just- he couldn't handle the thought of that...

Little did he know, however, that Bruce Wayne— Batman himself— was feeling just as much (if not more) guilt as his sidekick was...

If he'd just said no when J'onn proposed the idea for that stupid simulation, the team— all mere children— wouldn't walk around looking like they were trapped in their own personal hell's; they wouldn't be putting lives in danger on missions due to mental distractions; and, most of all, Dick wouldn't wake up every night in tears.

It was Bruce's fault that Dick— a thirteen-year-old— was suffering from severe PTSD— that the whole YJ team was. Six teenagers, scarred— all because of a decision Bruce made.

And that's exactly what Bruce laid awake thinking about when, for the seventh night in a row, he heard Dick's soft cries float from down the hall. Guilt coursing through his veins, the older vigilante climbed out of bed and hurried down the hall to check on his surrogate son.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and entered the teenager's large room, the cries becoming substantially louder.
After walking over to the boy's bed, he sat down on the unoccupied side and tried not to sound like the world was weighing on his shoulders as he woke his sidekick. "Dick..." he sighed sadly as he brushed the thirteen-year-old's bangs from his eyes. "Dick."

The kid woke with a gasp, chest rising up and down at top-speed as he started to hyperventilate. He began to kick with all his might, nearly knocking Bruce off the bed. But, the older man was prepared as this had happened every night since the Failsafe simulation.

He wrapped his arms around the boy and murmured comforting words just loud enough for him to hear. For a moment, Dick seemed to tense up. But then his short, panicked breaths began to slow and were replaced with soft sobs. He held onto Bruce as if the older man would disappear if he didn't.

Bruce cradled the back of the small boy's head in his hand as one thought burned into his mind.

This is my fault...