Nightwing Oneshots

Robin XXX

⚠️PTSD/PTSD Attacks | Anxiety | Flashbacks | Mention of Death | Mental Health Struggles ⚠️

This is set around the Wayne Family Adventures webtoon

I was walking through the hallways of the mansion, unaware that anyone was even home with me. I hadn't been back there since I moved out, which was a few years ago. The last time I was there was to celebrate Barbara's birthday...

As I passed a set of double doors on my right, I heard a faint muttering from inside. Frowning, I paused next to the door, assuming it was Alfred cleaning or talking to someone on the phone.

"Go away, go away, go away..." I faintly heard from inside, and my eyebrows furrowed. That was not Alfred's voice. Who was here?

I softly opened one of the doors and peered inside, stepping in and letting my eyes fall to a teen sitting in the fetal position on the floor. His hair was dark besides the white streak in the front, and his gloved hands clawed uselessly at his arms that were folded tightly around his legs.

Jason.

It had completely slipped my mind that he could have been visiting the mansion, along with the others who visited from time to time or the ones who still lived with Bruce and Alfred. I closed the door and said, "Jason?"

He didn't look up or even acknowledge that I was there; he just kept rocking back and forth and scratching at his arms while saying, "Go away, go away, go away..."

I suddenly realized what was happening: he was having a PTSD attack. Is this what I looked like when I had mine? His eyes were wide and panicky and his breathing was quick and shallow.

"Jason," I said again, louder and firmer as I crouched next to him. I knew better than to touch him. "Hey, can you hear me?"

His frightened gaze slowly turned to mine, but I could tell he wasn't really here. 

"Hey, it's Dick," I said, trying my best to keep my voice steady but firm. "Can you tell me where you are right now?"

He froze for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut. "I-I..." His breathing was still rapid. "The bomb-"

"You're not in Switzerland," I said, assuming he was talking about the moments before his death. "You're in Gotham. You're in Bruce's mansion. You're safe. Can you feel the floor and your clothes for me?"

He slowly pressed a shaky hand to the floor, cautiously raking his fingers through the carpet. His other hand pinched the fabric of his T-shirt and rubbed them together, opening his eyes as he looked at the ground.

"You're at Bruce's mansion," I repeated. "You're safe. It's daytime. Nothing is going to hurt you."

The panicked look was slowly leaving his eyes. His breathing was still shallow and his hands were still shaking, but the flashbacks looked like they were receding. I stood up, went over to the bed, grabbed a heavy blanket from it, and brought it back before sitting back down in front of him. "It's Dick," I said again, not sure if he had heard the first time. 

He slowly nodded a few times, still rubbing his hand through the carpet. "...Yeah. Dick."

"Do you want this blanket?" I asked in a more gentle voice now. "The weight might help a bit."

He nodded once again, and I carefully put it around his shoulders, making sure it covered most of his body. "Can you tell me where you are?" I questioned softly.

His eyebrows furrowed as he carefully pulled the blanket over himself more. "I... I'm at the manor-"

"Yeah, that's right," I said. "You're safe here. Nothing can hurt you."