More Reverse Batfam Trash

You'll Always Be Our Little Brother

-Just some fluff inspired by my incredible and show stopping Older Brother :)-

Ages:

Damian - 28

Tim - 23

Jason - 19

Dick - 16

He hadn't planned on having an anxiety attack on the bridge. he'd gone to a gymnastics team meetup after school, but it turns out Monday meetups were at 7:30, not 4:30 like on Friday. He felt so stupid. He had told everyone he was going there after school, he was so dumb!

Things had really hit him on the walk back across the bridge to where his bike was parked. He had felt like he was dying. His phone was dead. He was far from home.

That was a couple hours ago now, Dick had been locked in his room ever since he'd gotten home, crying on and off. He tried to tell his instructor he couldn't make it tonight. He felt so bad. He hated being flakey. He was so unreliable! 

He did not want to leave his room, using all of his water bottle and bedside water with his emergency snack bars to save him from his hunger and thirst. 

He'd ignored Bruce when he knocked, and asked Alfred to leave him alone when he knocked. 

He'd been watching youtube on his phone, but it was getting harder to comprehend everything. The swearwords were upsetting. Still nuzzled up to Peanuts, he tried to find something better. He found that minecraft music gave everything he needed.

Funny, he didn't feel bored just listening to soft classical music and cuddling Peanuts. He was content to roll around in bed and stick his legs in to hair for comfort.

Oh.

He was regressing.

This happened sometimes when he was upset. It started as him involuntarily regressing due to the trauma of his parents—no— regressing to about three to five to cope, but it began to be something that just happened to protect him from anxiety and panic attacks and the like, not just triggering circumstances.

But see, he hadn't exactly told people about it; Alfred and Bruce knew, but he hadn't needed to explain the whole thing to his brothers yet. They had a rough idea that their youngest brother found comfort in childish things, but not the extent of it.

Dick clumsily dressed himself in the comfiest clothes he could find; a striped pyjama shirt and overalls. He felt a little younger than three, definitely somewhere between baby and young toddler. He was conscious of the fact that he was littler than usual, but he didn't have a teenage brain; he had trouble thinking of words, and the idea using a glass was so hard, he used his sports water bottle. It was more like a sippy cup, which meant less spills on his sheets.

Dick was hungry. Earlier when Alfred asked if he was okay before heading to the store, Dick had requested chicken nuggets ans smily potatoes. I guess that made sense now.

Dick thought hard about who to ask, and finally fumbled through his phone to contacts. Without his grown up brain to stop him, he texted the brother chat:

'I'm hungry'

'Guys I'm small right now. Something bad happened and my brain is gone little again'

'Can you help me make nuggies?'

Soon, he received a thumbs-up from Tim, and an invitation to come downstairs.

Thumb in his mouth (something he didn't even realize he was doing), Dick unlocked the door, and he and peanuts went downstairs. 

Tim was waiting, leaning against the table. "Hey Dickie."