Just Robin Oneshots Part 2

When you sad so you make sad but also happy

Aromantic_Satan requested a story a while ago and because it'll pander to my angst

This is just all over the place - like my thoughts are right now - so bear with - I needed a vent to get the thoughts out of my head so sorry if things are intense or ooc but hey i didn't think i'd post this weekend and I did so think of it as a gag gift or something

I could do with a nice lil coma right now

TW: there will be scenes of violence, self-harm and underage smoking (is that a trigger? better safe than sorry)

https://www.supportline.org.uk/problems/self-injury-and-self-harm/

https://www.recovery.org.uk/addiction/addiction-helpline/

"Point is, none of us was prepared for living here. You know what we did to settle in better?" Dick shook his head. "We asked for help. We told someone how we felt. It's the only way you can feel better." The younger hummed. He supposed he better start talking.

The room was quiet. Dick wished he could smoke as his nerves began to get the best of him. His leg bounced up and down rapidly as he thought about what to say, what to do, who to be. How was he supposed to ask for help when experience taught him help brought more trouble? Was he just supposed to spill his guts? What if they didn't like what he had to spill? He glanced up to them before darting his eyes back to the floor. The movement was too quick for him to catch their expressions. None of them were accustomed to the rich life either when they first came and he didn't doubt they had their own issues going on before they got here. What if his own wasn't as bad as theirs? They might just tell him to suck it up. Tell him that his problems weren't hard problems. "Why do you feel the need to smoke?" Tim asked, striking up a conversation that would surely reveal some answers. He'd been watching the younger bounce his foot up and down and worried that if he left things any longer he'd get a cramp. "It helps. Gives me a break from things," he answered quietly. "A guy I knew gave me one after my surgery. It's been a habit since then."

"Then we'll need to replace that," Damian stated. "Exercise will be a good start considering how much damage you've might've done to yourself." The teen shrugged at the solution. He took to biting his thumbnail to shake off some of the nerves that the cigarette was supposed to. There wasn't much nail left since he did it a lot in school. It was just another bad habit he had but at least it wasn't as bad as the others. "What did you have surgery for?" Jason asked.

"Told warden who the murderer was. Got stabbed. Could've died. Sorta wish I did." He seemed to jump upon admitting that as though it surprised him that those words fell from his mouth. "Heh, I uh, I don't know where that came from. Pretty silly really. Oh and I'm crying, wow this is just really a fun lil get together," he rambled with a strained smirk. He rubbed at his eyes roughly to hide the tears brewing in his eyes. He mentally berated himself for being so weak in front of them. "Dude that sucks," Jason stated not knowing what else to say. What were you supposed to say to something like that? 

"Yeah. Kinda is. Can I just have one cig? Last one promise. I just really need one. Please?" The brothers looked at one another before nodding. Jason passed him one cigarette and he lit it up, quickly taking a drag. "How long ago was the surgery?" Damian asked. If they had an idea of the time frame for the addiction then it would give them the basics on how to treat it.

"A while ago I think. Days kinda mush together inside." He tapped off the ash outside the window so it wouldn't damage the sill. It looked expensive and he was sure as hell his inheritance wouldn't make up for the repairs.