Traumatised

Mania

When Dick left the bathroom an hour later, he was still confused. A little over a month ago, Bruce had been begging him to come home. Now he finally wanted to, Bruce was telling him to stay put. What could be happening in Gotham that would make Bruce not want him in the way?

He slumped in his seat, his hair still a little damp from his shower, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

'Everything alright Dick?' asked Slade, who was sat on the other side of the table looking at his computer.

'Yeh...I guess.'

'Did you talk with your father?' Slade can see the boy's mood has depleted since he saw him a couple of hours previously.

'Yeh.' Dick wasn't sure he wanted to share with Slade details about the conversation. As much as he wanted to go home, he didn't want the other man to think he wasn't grateful for everything he has done.

As if to save him from explaining, Joey walked back in, phone in hand and a frown on his face.

'What?' asks Slade, sensing his son's foul mood.

The drug-dealing Mexican tosser is out. – Joey signs. I expect he will be wanting to get in touch soon.

Slade groaned. 'Great,' he said. 'Bane is always more trouble than he's worth.'

He'll either be wanting papers to disappear for a while or weapons to fight back. Either way, he's going to be pissed when he can't get hold of you.

Slade turned away from his son's hands to glance at Dick. But he didn't expect what he saw. Dick had gone white. His eyes were wide, unfocused. He was barely breathing.

'Dick?' Slade got up and slowly approached the boy. 'Dick?' The boy was staring straight ahead, Slade could tell that wherever his mind was...it wasn't in the room with them. Slade reached out and gently touched Dick's shoulder. The second his hand made contact with his skin, Dick screamed and pushed himself backwards, falling off the chair and scrambling away.

His breathing was coming in pants now, his body shaking violently. His hands were gripped tightly into fists and Slade could see blood pooling through his fingers.

'Dick stop, you're hurting yourself.' Slade came forward but when he was too close Dick started to lash out. In an instant, Slade managed to manoeuvre himself behind the boy, wrapped his arms around him and gripped him tightly. But Dick started to thrash.

What the hell? -Joey signed in front of them both.

'He's having an episode of mania. Something's set off his PTSD. I think he's having a flashback.' Slade grunted as Dick fought against him. The boy was strong, and he was scared. Dick was literally thrashing in his arms as though his life depended on escaping. 'We just have to wait for him to tire himself out.'

But then Slade felt something that made him freeze. Beneath his hand that was holding onto Dick's wrist, he felt the bone begin to crack.

'Shit.' If Dick kept fighting, he was going to break his arm. 'Joey, back of the third cupboard, there is a small blue box. Bring it.'

Joey ran to the cupboard and brought the box back to where his father was holding the screaming teen. He opened the box and found a syringe and a vile of clear liquid. He looked up at his father, his eyes asking him whether he was sure.

'We need to calm him down. His heart his beating way to fast and he's a danger to himself and potentially us. Do it, Joseph.'

Joey filled the syringe and waited for Slade to shift Dick in his arms so that he could hold the boy's arm as still as possible. When he lifted the sleeve of Dick's shirt, the boy screamed for him to stop and tears started to fall from his wide blue eyes. When the limb was as still as it was going to get, Joey reluctantly inserted the needle into his friend's flesh and pushed the plunger. Almost instantly, the boy's fight began to fade.