Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dick woke up to knocking on his door before it cracked open, letting in the light from the hall. He cracked an eye open and looked at Alfred in the doorway. “Master Dick, Master Jason is in the kitchen.” Alfred said slowly. Dick frowned, rubbing his eyes and lifted his head up off his pillow. 

“Okay…?” Dick said slowly. So Jason was in the kitchen? His little brother had been sleeping at the manor more and more, it wasn’t exactly a weird sight to see. 

“He’s baking cookies. It’s four in the morning.” Alfred sighed. That got Dick up. He sat up in bed before swinging his legs out and standing up to follow Alfred down the hall. 

“How long has he been down there?” Dick asked, following Alfred down the main staircase. 

“I am unsure. Long enough he’s already made a few batches. My counters are full of serving platters covered in various amounts of baked goods.” Once they rounded the corner and stood at the doorway to the kitchen, Dick sighed. Jason had his back towards them, bowl on the counter and spoon in hand as he mixed mini peanut butter cups into some dough. “Where’s B?” Dick asked quietly, frowning at Alfred. 

“Master Bruce is still wrapping up his patrol for the night. I believe he’s talking things over with Commissioner Gordon. Do you want me to call him?” Alfred frowned, eyes still locked on the boy in the kitchen. Dick shook his head, running a hand down his face. 

“No…No, I’ll handle it.” Dick said simply before walking into the kitchen. Jason turned around at the footsteps and smiled at his brother. Dick really wished it was normal. But it wasn’t. He wished so bad that Jason smiling like that at him was nothing more than just his brother being happy to see him. But Jason’s baseline was moody at best, a Jason smile that reminded Dick of his happy little brother was never a good sign. Not anymore. 

“Hi Dickie.” Jason hummed, turning his attention back to the bowl in front of him. “Are you hungry? I made some muffins. And I think there’s a plate of croissants somewhere on the kitchen table.” He said, vaguely waving towards the table, filled with cookies, muffins, cupcakes and a plate of croissants. 

“No, I’m okay.” Dick said, forcing a smile on his face as he walked up to Jason’s side. The gleam in his eye could fool most people, but the bags under his eyes were always so telling, and at this point, Dick knew what to look for anyways. 

“How are you feeling, Little Wing?” Dick asked carefully. Jason just smiled again and shrugged. 

“I feel great! I’ve already gotten so much done!” Jason smiled before starting to roll more cookie dough into balls and dropping them on the baking sheet on the counter. “I finished writing reports for all my cases and cleaned the showers in the cave and made Damian and Tim lunch for tomorrow. I’m gonna reorganize the library when I’m done with this.” He said, nodding mostly to himself like he was just reading off a checklist to himself. Dick frowned, reaching a hand out to rub a few small circles into Jason’s back. 

“Jay? Have you taken your meds?” Dick asked slowly. His brother froze, his left eye giving a little twitch. 

“I… ran out.” Jason said softly, brows furrowed for only a second before he went back to his task of cookie making. “It’s okay though. You know, I don’t even think I need them anymore. I think I outgrew them.” He said, waving his hand in the air to brush the thought away. 

“You ran out?” Dick frowned, eyes glued to his brother’s twitching eye as he kept rubbing little circles in his back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Me or Alfred or Bruce? You know we keep extras just in case. We could have gotten you a refill.” 

“I was working on a case and it just wasn’t important. Plus, I don’t need them anymore.” Jason said simply, shrugging Dick’s hand off his back before putting the cookie sheet in the oven. “Bruce is just over dramatic about the whole thing anyways. He always has been.” 

“Jay…When was the last time you slept..?” Dick asked slowly, watching Jason bounce around the kitchen. 

“I don’t know.” Jason said quickly before turning to glare at his older brother. “Why does it matter anyways? I’m fucking fine!” He snapped. “God, you’re just like Bruce! You two have some major control issues. What? Just because I’m making some food for my family I need to be on meds?” He snapped defensively. “You know, anytime I do anything nice for you people, everyone just assumes I’m insane! God fucking forbid I’m nice to you guys!” Jason yelled, throwing his hands in the air. Dick frowned, standing his ground as Jason started to pace through the kitchen. 

“I never said I thought you were insane, Jay. I’m just worried is all.” Dick sighed. Ten years. This has been a ten year battle with Jason and it never ever got any easier. Not really. He was doing so well too. He was taking his meds every day, staying on top of them and getting his refills when he should. He hasn’t had a slip up in almost seven months. But he was apparently a few days into an episode already. He was getting agitated and mean. Usually, the five day mark is when things turn sideways. He’ll be so happy and wired on mania for a few days before some type of crash happens and the cycle repeats. Either the mania crashes and he spirals into a depressive episode for a while, or the mania just twists into anger. Neither are good and Dick can never really hope it goes one way or the other. If he just crashes, he won’t get out of bed. He won’t eat. He won’t speak half the time. He’ll just lay in his bed and rot there until they can force some meds down his throat with minimal fighting. If it turns into rage, it’s always a lot harder to control. To keep Jason home and not running around the streets at night, possibly putting other people at risk.  

“Yeah but you think so! You think I’m fucking crazy don’t you? I bet you love it huh? You fucking love when I have issues don’t you golden boy?” Jason snapped, gaze hard. “Well, news flash, I don’t have any issues! Okay?! You’re the one with fucking issues!” He yelled before someone cleared their throat from the other side of the room. Bruce stood in the doorway, looking at all the plates and baked goods scattered around the kitchen, still in his Batman gear, minus the cowl. 

“You’ve been busy, Jaylad.” Bruce hummed. Jason glared, stalking right up to his father, shoving a finger in his chest. 

“You think I’m fucking crazy too? Don’t you Old Man?” Jason snapped, hands shaking at his side, eye still twitching away. Bruce frowned and shook his head. 

“Of course not, Jay. Actually, I think Tim and Damian are gonna love all the stuff you made. Can I take some to work with me? I was thinking of giving it to the girls who work the front desk.” Bruce said simply and Jason viably deflated, letting all the anger just pour out of him as he gave Bruce a little nod. 

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, take some of the muffins for them.” Jason mumbled, rubbing at his twitching eye. “And some of the cookies. Casey at the front likes the peanut butter ones.”He nodded. Bruce just nodded with a little hum, looking down at his son, trying so hard to hide the sad expression that threatened to bleed through. 

“Thank you, Jay.” Bruce smiled. “I’m sure the girls will love it. I’m gonna go change, do you think you can box some up for me? And after we can clean some of this up for Alfred okay?”  He said, casually waving for Dick to follow him out. Jason just gave another little nod before walking off to the pantry to find some to go boxes for everything. Dick frowned but followed Bruce back out to the hallway. “How long has he been like this?” 

“I don’t know. Alfred just woke me up and told me he was down here. I haven’t seen him in a few days.” Dick sighed, running a hand down his face.

“A few days?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. “How long is a few days?”

“Maybe a week? He was fine the last time I saw him. He said he ran out of his meds but that it’s okay because he doesn’t need them anymore.” Dick frowned. Bruce sighed, running a hand down his face. 

“I’m going to go change and help him clean the kitchen and I’ll talk to him. The boys will be up soon for school and work just…try and keep them out of the kitchen until I can get him to calm down a little bit.” Bruce said, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick just nodded slightly, looking up at his father before his gaze flickered back to the kitchen door. 

“He’s been doing so good.” Dick mumbled softly, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. 

“I know.” Bruce sighed. “He’ll be okay. I’ll call and get his refill and get him back on his meds.” Dick just nodded again before walking off. They both knew the routine by now. After ten years, they got really good at the same routine every time Jason had some sort of relapse. A mental checklist of things to get done to get him back on his meds and leveled out. 

 A few minutes later, Bruce walked back in the kitchen in some sweat pants and a t-shirt, looking at Jason sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest as he looked at the mess all over the kitchen. Bruce walked over, crouching down next to his son and putting a hand on his shoulder. Jason frowned, still rubbing at his twitching eye  as he looked up at Bruce. He looked a lot more tired than he did a few minutes ago. 

“Dad, I don’t feel good.” Jason said softly, squeezing his eyes shut before resting his forehead on his knees. Bruce nodded, rubbing a hand up and down Jason’s back. 

“Okay. Let’s get you upstairs.” Bruce said simply. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Jason shook his head but let Bruce help him off the floor. The former Robin looked back at the mess all over the kitchen and frowned, letting Bruce wrap an arm around his shoulders before being led out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

Dick watched from outside Tim’s room as Bruce walked Jason into his master room down the hall. It’s how it usually went since Jason was a kid. He’d crash out and just sleep in Bruce’s room, curled up in the big bed with blankets pulled up over his head. Tim poked his head out and frowned, rubbing his eyes. “He’s off his meds again, isn’t he?” He asked quietly. Dick sighed and nodded, forcing a smile on his face. 

“Don’t worry about that right now. Jay made breakfast and he packed a lunch for you to bring to work.” Dick said through the forced smile. Tim just frowned, still looking down the hallway towards Bruce’s room as Damian’s door swung open, raising an eyebrow at his older brothers. 

“Jay’s off his meds again.” Tim said simply. Damian let a small frown tug at his lips as he looked in the same direction down the hallway. 

“He’s fine. You guys don’t need to worry about anything. Go get some breakfast. You both have lunch in the fridge and I’m sure Alfred is down there waiting for you. Now Go.” Dick said, ushering them both down the hallway towards the stairs. Neither boy put up much of a fight. Tim trudged down the stairs without protest, but Damian stopped and spun on his heels to look up at his oldest brother. 

“Is Todd going to be alright?” Damian asked slowly. “Is Father with him now? I also wish to go see him.” 

“Yeah, B is with him right now.” Dick sighed, reaching down to gently pet down some of Damian’s bed head. “I think Jason just needs some sleep right now. Go get some breakfast and get ready for school. I’m sure he’ll like some company later on.” Dick said before Damian hesitantly went downstairs. It was a lie. Kind of. Jason never really liked company when he crashed like this. He didn’t hate it exactly, but he didn’t pay much attention either. But after the last crash he had, they all made the decision not to let Jason be alone if he was awake. Not after last time and all the blood- 

So much blood-

Dick snapped himself out of his thoughts and quietly walked back down the hall and cracked Bruce’s door open to peek in. Jason was in the process of curling up under some of the blankets Bruce was pulling over him, leaning down and whispering something to the former Robin. Jason just nodded, face squished against a pillow as his eyes slipped shut. Bruce reached a hand down, running his hand through Jason’s unruly hair before planting a kiss on his forehead and walking out to meet Dick in the hallway, quietly pulling the door shut behind them. 

“I’ll call his psychiatrist in a few hours to get him another refill. He apparently hasn’t slept a wink in three days.” Bruce sighed, running a hand down his face. “I think he needs a stronger dose on his meds. He’ll probably sleep for most of the day but  I have some meetings at work I need to be at. Can you just stick around? Wait for him to wake back up?” Bruce asked and Dick looked at the bags under his fathers eyes. 

“Of course I can. But you should get some sleep too, B. You didn’t get any sleep last night with patrol. Just take a day off and try to get some sleep, I can watch Jason.” Dick tried. 

“I can take your meetings.” Tim piped up and Dick’s head spun around with a frown. 

“I thought you went to get breakfast downstairs.” Dick sighed. Tim only shrugged as a yawn bubbled out of his mouth. 

“Well I chugged a glass of water and ate a muffin on the way back upstairs and I was going to sneak in and check on Jason but obviously that won’t work now. I’m going into the office anyway to work on some stuff. I can take your meetings and take notes or whatever for you.” Tim shrugged. “You look like shit, B.” He said flatly. “Go sleep. I’ll cover the meetings and take notes on whatever.”

Bruce frowned, hesitating for a moment. God, he was so fucking tired. “Are you sure…?” He asked slowly. Tim only rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh. 

“Yes. I’m positive. Go sleep.” Tim replied before slipping back into his room without another word to get ready for the day. 

“He’s right. You do kinda look like shit.” Dick hummed. “Go sleep in the guest room down the hall. I’ll make sure Dami goes off to school and I’ll sit with Jay until he wakes back up. Robin’s honor.” He said with a small smile. Bruce visibly deflated but nodded his head anyway as he started his trek down the hallway. 

“You’ll come get me if he wakes up, right?” 

“Yes.” Dick sighed. “I have everything under control.” He said before making his way back towards the stairs to go check on Damian. “Sleep. You’re not as young as you used to be!” Dick called out as he jogged down the stairs. 

“I wish to go see Todd now.” Damian declared the second Dick walked into the kitchen. The younger boy stood up from his place at the table with furrowed brows, looking right up at his big brother. 

“He’s sleeping right now, Dames.” Dick said with a sad smile, walking to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. A large cup of coffee. Waking up that early wasn’t good for anyone. Maybe it was because he was a night owl but, people who willingly wake up at the ass crack of dawn were not sane people in Dick Grayson’s book. 

“You are sure he’s alright?” Damian asked with a small frown. “Because last time-”

“I know what happened last time.” Dick said quickly. He could never forget the last time actually. Those images were burned into his eyelids and haunted the corners of his dreams. He could never forget the last time even though he desperately tried to. “Go get dressed for school. Alfie’s gonna drive you today.” Damian only scowled before marching his little legs back upstairs to get changed. Alfred was probably outside to pull the car around outfront. Dick took the moment of silence to take a deep breath. His eyes slowly scanned across the kitchen. Almost every surface was still covered in baked goods. The counters by the oven still had a healthy coating of flour and the take out boxes still laid forgotten on the floor. Dick took a few more seconds to ground himself before picking up the tasks Jason left off from. 

It was always how it goes. He’d start a project and halfway through then start another one. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were puzzles or an innocent hobby like knitting. But Jason would start major tasks. He doesn’t even want to think about the reports he claimed to finish. Most of it would be gibberish anyway. He knew the showers Jason claimed to clean were also probably a wreck, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he’s focused on cleaning the kitchen. Because that’s what big brothers do. It’s what Dick always did. Ten years of cleaning up Jason’s mess. 

Dick took one deep breath in before he got to work. He tried to organize the layers of serving platters first before giving up and wiping the counters down. He put away all the ingredients Jason had pulled out from the pantry. He filled a few take out containers for Tim to take to work to try and condense some of the chaos. By the time his two younger brothers were making their way back downstairs, everything was almost cleaned. Besides the banquet amount of food. 

“Your lunches are on the counter. Tim, take four of those boxes to the office for the girls. Dami, why don’t you take two of them and give them to your teachers?” Dick said, forcing a smile on his face as his brothers slowly took the food into their arms. Both brothers carefully took the boxes they were handed. They shared a worried look before saying their goodbyes and leaving for the day. Then, Dick was alone again. He leaned his hands against the counter and hung his head, taking a few more deep breaths. 

He loved Jason. He loved him with all his heart but, sometimes it was so exhausting to have him as a brother. That was a thought that eats Dick alive almost every single day of his life. 

—

Jason doesn’t know how long he slept for. Probably not nearly long enough considering he still felt like every last bit of life had been ripped out of his body. He curled deeper into Bruce’s bed, tightly pulling the blanket around his head as he stared at the wall. 

He couldn’t get his mind to shut up. Not for a single second. His thoughts were racing a million miles a minute, but not in a good way. Before his thoughts could start to spiral anymore, the door cracked open. Jason didn’t move. He didn’t check to see who it was. He simply just kept his eyes glued to the same spot on the wall and pulled the blankets up higher. 

Dick made his way over, sitting down on the edge of the bed and started to rub small circles in his brother’s back. “You need to get more sleep, Jay.” Dick said softly. Jason didn’t respond. Not even a hum of acknowledgement, but he could feel the tears starting to burn in the corners of his eyes. Dick frowned, looking up at the ceiling to stop his own tears from falling. “Alright, it’s okay.” He said quietly before climbing into the bed and laying down on the other pillow. “Just try and get some sleep.”

The first time it happened, Jason was twelve. It didn’t start off so bad. Dick walked in on him doing all of his homework for the next few weeks. Jason just shrugged and smiled, claiming he was just trying to get ahead. That same night, after patrol, he didn’t sleep. He just said he was too amped up on adrenaline to sleep. A few days later, Alfred called Bruce home from the office and called to have Dick let out of school to come home. Bruce swung by the school on his way home and when they walked in the door, Alfred’s face was white. 

“He’s in the cave..” Alfred said softly. “He refuses to leave. I have tried but I’m not sure what else to do. He doesn’t seem well.” 

Dick took off in a sprint with Bruce hot on his heels. He ran down the stairs to the cave but froze in place at the sight. Jason was hunched over the floor, marker in hand and writing on the floor. Jason didn’t go to school that day. He just told Bruce he didn’t feel good. Bruce believed him. Jason loved school. He didn’t like to skip. So, Bruce let him stay home. By the looks of it, Jason had been down in the cave all day. Every foot of the cave was covered in words and scribbles. In some areas, Jason had started to creep his way up the walls. 

“Little Wing..?” Dick called out slowly. Jason didn’t look up. He didn’t even acknowledge his father and brother were even in the room. He just kept writing, quietly mumbling to himself.  He didn’t look…well. His hair was a mess and the bags under his eyes made Dick’s stomach drop. Maybe Jason had been lying when he said he was sleeping the past couple of days. This wasn’t right. Something was very very wrong. Bruce made the first move. He carefully stepped forward a few feet before Jason’s head was snapping up with a frown. 

“Y-You can’t step on it. If it smudges I-I have to start over.” Jason frowned. Bruce paused for a second before carefully stepping around each word, making sure his shoes didn’t touch a single letter. 

“Jaylad..” Bruce said softly. “What are you doing..?” He asked. Jason shook his head, letting his eyes scan all over the room to try and get a better look at his own work. 

“I-I needed to write it down so I wouldn’t forget.” Jason mumbled, looking up at his father. His eye was twitching. 

“Forget what?” Bruce frowned, crouching down to Jason’s level. He couldn’t even make out half of the scribbles even if he tried. “What did you need to write down?” 

Jason looked at him like he was stupid. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he wildly motioned to the cave as he got increasingly more frustrated. “She was talking to me! She told me to write it down!” He snapped. “So I did! I did what she told me to do!” Bruce frowned, casting a quick glance behind him to see Dick’s face. He and Alfred didn’t move, watching on with wide eyes as Jason pushed himself off the ground to start pacing back and forth on the three feet of space he hadn’t written on yet. “She kept yelling at me! Over and over and she told me to write it all down! So I did! I did exactly what she asked me to do!”

“Jaylad-” Bruce tried before Jason squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. 

“No! No! You’re not listening to me!” Jason yelled. A few tears rolled down his cheeks and his breathing was getting increasingly more panicked. 

“I am listening to you, sweetheart.” Bruce said slowly with a frown, taking one very slow step forward. “Who was talking to you..?”

“Mama.” Jason frowned. “S-She was telling me all this stuff so- so I wrote it all down! See?” He said. 

Dick watched on from the bottom of the stairs. He was holding his breath. He felt like he was going to be fucking sick. He watched as Bruce very carefully tried to talk Jason back down. Trying so desperately to get close enough to grab him in a hug. His little brother wasn’t having it. For a such a little kid, Jason put up a good fight. Once Bruce grabbed him, Dick rushed forward to try and help. But Jason was thrashing in Bruce’s arms, screaming bloody murder. 

“NO! NO! Let me go!” Jason screamed, trying to wiggle his way free. Bruce had a pained expression etched onto his face as he held on tight.  Jason didn’t stop fighting until Dick stabbed a needle into his arm and pushed a sedative. Seconds later, Jason went limp and passed out as all the fight left his body. Bruce carefully got a better hold on him and held him close as he looked around. The cave was a wreck. Almost every single surface was covered in nonsense. The chairs by the computer were turned over. Bruce’s reports from the night before were scattered all over the floor. 

“W-What..-” Dick tried but he couldn’t find the words. What happened? What’s wrong with him? Nothing seemed to be the words he was looking for. 

“H-He’s been acting weird the past few days.” Bruce mumbled, gently carding a hand though Jason’s hair. “I’ll call Leslie.” He said simply before carrying Jason back upstairs without another word. Alfred followed after him, talking about making a small batch of cookies to help Jason feel better. Dick was left alone in the cave. He sucked in a breath, willing his tears to go away before he got to work. 

Dick stayed in the cave all night. A bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush in his hand. He spent hours down there trying to scrub away the words Jason wrote. It was the first time Dick cleaned up after his brother, but it wasn’t the last. Not by a long shot. After a day and some very extensive testing and evaluating from Leslie they got their answers.

“Bipolar. Specifically bipolar I.” Leslie explained slowly. “It’s…rare for it to pop up in kids Jason’s age, but it does happen.” 

“He thought his dead mother was talking to him.” Bruce frowned. He was sitting in one of the chairs in her office. After all these years, Dick doesn’t think he’s ever seen Bruce look so defeated. So tired. 

“In…extreme cases, it can cause psychosis.” She nodded. “Delusions. Hallucinations.” Leslie frowned, holding her clipboard of Jason’s notes close. “He’ll need to start medication. Mood stabilizers and an antipsychotic. Mood stabilizers to keep everything level and an antipsychotic to hopefully treat any psychosis that might pop up.” 

“A-Antipsychotics?” Dick frowned, shaking his head. “H-He’s only twelve! You want to put my little brother on antipsychotics?” 

“To help him live an easier life.” Leslie clarified with a sad smile. “I know all of this seems scary. But, with proper treatment and medication Jason can life a fairly normal life. But he needs to stay consistent with his meds and until he gets a little older, you’ll need to keep a close eye on him. Medication isn’t always cut and dry. If you think he’s starting to slip again, bring him back and I can change his dose.”

Dick wasn’t listening at that point. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. Jason would need to be on medication for the rest of his life just so he didn’t go insane. He’s sure Leslie mentioned something about the depression episodes he might get, but Dick wasn’t listening anymore. He still wished he listened to her.  

Dick laid in Bruce’s bed, carefully pulling Jason into his chest. Jason was still awake. He could tell by the slight hitch in his breath every once and a while from his brother trying not to cry. Dick just laid there, arms holding onto his brother tightly and rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “It’s alright. You’re okay.” Dick whispered softly. “Bruce is gonna call and get your meds and you’ll feel better. Okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Jason whispered through the silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Dick could feel his heart clench. He just hugged Jason tighter and shook his head.

“I know. Everything is gonna be okay. Just try and get some more sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Dick promised. Jason did eventually fall back asleep. Dick doesn’t know how long he laid there before Bruce was poking his head in to check on him. Dick was so tired. He was fucking exhausted, but he refused to fall asleep too. He needed to be awake. Just in case something happened. He won’t make the same mistake he made last time. He’d stay awake for days if he had to. 

“I called Leslie.” Bruce whispered softly as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Alfred is going to pick up his prescriptions right now.” He sighed, running a gentle hand down the side of Jason’s face. “I’ll watch him. Go get some sleep before the boys get back.” 

“I’m okay.” Dick mumbled, fighting back a yawn. 

“Dick.” Bruce warned. “Go sleep. I’ll sit with him.”

“I told him I would be here when he woke up.” Dick frowned. Bruce sighed and pulled up a chair next to the bed before grabbing his laptop. 

“Then sleep here. I have some emails I need to sort through. Just go to sleep. Nothing bad will happen. I promise. I’ll be right here in case he wakes up.” Dick sighed but put his head back down on the pillow anyway. He gave Jason one last glance before letting his eyes slip shut and drifting off. God, he was so fucking tired. A deep kind of tired. The type that settles into your bones. Into the very essence of your being. Dick is 10 years worth of tired. 

He should have known better. He really should have. Deep down, he knew what would happen if he fell asleep like this. Stressed out over his brother once again and trying to hold himself together. It happens a lot. The same dream. Over and over again. Haunting him. But it wasn’t a dream. Not really. It was always the same memory that was slowly choking him to death. 

“Has anyone seen Jason?” Tim asked with a loud sigh. “His bike is outside but I have zero idea where he is.” Dick looked up from the table with a frown. Jason was here? He usually texts someone or at least says hi when he would come over. 

“I’m not sure..” Dick said slowly. “I didn’t even know he was home.” He sighed, pushing himself up from his chair. Jason had been good. Really good. He hadn’t had a slip up in over a year. He was taking his meds as he should. He seemed better. Happier. “I’ll go look for him. He probably wanted to grab a book from the library or something.” He said with a smile, walking past his little brother and ruffling his hair as he went. Dick didn’t even make it to the library. As he was walking down the hall, he noticed Jason’s bedroom door was cracked open. Jason had moved out of the manor a few months prior. It was…a big fight actually. Bruce didn’t think it was a good idea. Jason started screaming and yelling about how he wasn’t a child. That he was an adult who had his own hero work and didn’t need everyone to baby him all the time. But, this was always going to be Jason’s room. Most of his things were still in there and at least twice a month, he’d just sleep there after a long patrol. 

Dick carefully pushed the door open, peeking his head inside. The lights were off and Jason wasn’t asleep in his bed. Dick frowned, turning to walk out and continue his search for his brother before he saw the sliver of light peeking out from under Jason’s bathroom door. “Jay?” Dick called out, taking a few steps forward before knocking on the door. “Little Wing?” No answer. But, Dick could faintly hear water running. So, Jason was inside but ignoring him. Dick sighed, pressing his ear to the door to try and hear any movement inside. But instead of hearing his brother shuffling around, he heard a muffled sob. Like Jason was trying so hard to keep quiet, but failing. “Jason, open the door.” Dick rushed out, giving the handle a quick wiggle. Locked. Of course he fucking locked the door. Dick started to knock harder as the panic started to rise. “Jason! Open the door!” 

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong and Dick could feel it in every fiber of his being. He took two steps back before landing a hard kick right next to the door’s handle. The door flew open. Light poured into the dark room. Dick’s world came crashing down around him. 

Jason was sat on the tile, trying to catch his breath as he choked on another sob. The pool of blood was making Dick’s head spin. Dick moved forward before he could even think. Two even gashes. Blood soaking through his clothes. Dick fell to the floor, grabbing a hand towel off the counter and holding it to one arm. “J-Jay, look at me.” Dick stuttered out. Jason sobbed. Trying to pull himself away and out of Dick’s reach. It didn’t work. 

“G-Go away!” He cried. “Get out!”

“No.” Dick said firmly, reaching for another hand towel and holding it to the other arm. “BRUCE!” He screamed towards the door. “BRUCE!!”

“Let me g-go!” Jason yelled, trying to push him away as another broken sob slipped past his lips. “Let me go!” 

There was so much blood. Dick could feel it soaking through his own clothes. Making the fabric stick to his skin and settle into the cracks of his palms. 

So much blood. 

Jason’s blood. 

Dick could faintly hear someone running in. He didn’t look up. He had to stop the bleeding. 

“Oh my god…” 

Dick whipped his head around. Tim and Damian stood in the doorway with wide eyes, frozen in place. “Go get Bruce.” He demanded, although his voice wavered and cracked. Damian was the one who got his feet to move first. He turned around and bolted back towards the door, sprinting full speed to go find their father. Tim didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the scene in front of him. Jason was still sobbing. Still trying to get out of Dick’s grasp. But, every time he pulled away, more blood was flowing out. “T-Tim, I need you to help me keep pressure.”

Tim didn’t move. He couldn’t get his feet to move. Before Dick could even start to tell him again, Bruce was pushing his way through and getting on the floor. He wasn’t panicking. Of course he wasn’t. He just grabbed Jason’s other arm and held the towel on tight. 

The rest passed in a blur. One second, Jason was sobbing on the floor in a pool of his down blood, the next he was being taken away in an ambulance. Bruce got in the back with him. Tim and Damian stood on the front steps with Alfred, watching the ambulance pull out of the driveway with the lights on. Dick was still sat on the bathroom floor, trying to get his hands to stop shaking. 

He’d seen a lot. He had seen death countless times. He had witnessed some of the most tragic things that can happen to a person. But, nothing has ever shaken him to his core like this.

His baby brother. 

His Little Wing. 

Bleeding out by his own doing. Dying in front of his eyes. 

Begging not to be saved. 

Dick looked around the bathroom. The blood smeared on the walls. The blood pool on the floor. It looked like a murder scene. The sink was still running, but the sound was so far away. Dick slowly pushed himself off the floor, trying not to slip on the gore under his feet. He was covered in it. So much blood-

Dick grabbed one of the buckets under the sink. He silently filled it with hot water and got to work. When Tim came back upstairs, he found Dick on his hands and knees. Scrubbing up the cooling blood as he cried. 

It took days to feel like his hands were clean again. Scrubbing them under scalding water to try and get every last bit of dried blood out of the cracks of his skin. He scrubbed them raw. Silent tears streaming down his face each time. 

Jason spent two days in the hospital. Another week in the psych ward until his meds were leveled out. When Dick greeted him at the door with a smile and arms open wide for a hug, his big brother’s hands were grabbed in gauze.

Dick woke up gasping. His eyes flew open in a panic as he sat up. He felt like he couldn’t breathe for a second until he remembered where he was. Bruce’s room. In bed. Dick snapped his head to the side before some of the panic was draining out of his body. Jason was still asleep right next to him. Bruce looked up with a worried look, shutting his laptop and rushing over to the bed. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Dick shook his head, taking a few seconds just to breathe. “Bad dream.” He mumbled. Bad memory. He sighed, running a hand down his face. Bruce frowned at him for a moment before settling a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. 

“What’s really wrong?” Bruce asked softly. Dick took a moment. He tried to find the will power to even look his father in the face as tears started to brim in his eyes. 

“I-” Dick started before letting his head hang forward. “I’m so tired, B.” He sighed. “I’m so tired and then I feel guilty about it. “I just- I just wish he was okay. But he’s not. He’s never going to be okay. I love him so much but when he’s like this,” He frowned, letting a few tears fall onto his lap before pulling his knees to his chest. “When he’s like this, it sucks the life out of me.” 

“I know.” Bruce whispered. Because he did. He knew exactly how Dick felt. Ten years is a long time. A long time dealing with this. “I know.” He repeated softly. 

“I feel like such a bad person.” Dick frowned. “B-But when I close my eyes, sometimes all I can see is him back on the bathroom floor. Or him on the roof thinking he could fly. Or trying to force meds down his throat. Why can’t he just-” He sighed. “Why can’t he just take his meds? Why can’t he just take care of himself?” Dick knew the answer. He really did. Leslie explained it to him when he was seventeen and it was burned into his memory forever. Medication could never make Jason ‘normal’. They could never make him not sick. They could only help so much. 

When he was diagnosed, Leslie explained it to them. 

These states will wax and wane.

Which always gave Dick hope because that meant in the bad times, there would be good times. It also gave him anxiety because that also meant that in the good times, there would be bad times. 

Bruce frowned, taking a deep breath before pulling Dick into his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Dick just buried his face into his father’s shoulder. In reality, Jason has gone months and months with no problems. He’s gone over a year with no problems before. But that never changed the fact that when it got bad- it got really bad. Overwhelming kind of bad. Almost losing his brother forever bad. 

Jason stayed asleep. Face buried into a pillow with the blankets pulled up over his head. 

Jason knew that what he put his family through sometimes wasn’t fair. It was one of the thoughts that ate at him the most when things got bad. Just how much stress his mental well being puts on his family. 

When he moved out, the fight with Bruce was…brutal. He still thinks about it. He still feels bad about it. Since he was diagnosed, his entire family treated him like a child. Even as he grew up, they didn’t change the way they treated him. He knew they meant well. Of course he did. But, he grew up and Dick still acted like he was the same little boy who believed in the tooth fairy. 

Jason truly doesn’t remember much from the day he tried to kill himself. He remembers locking himself in the bathroom. He remembers screaming at Dick. He remembers being at the hospital. Everything in between was a little fuzzy. He thinks it was less from the manic depression and more from how traumatizing it was. For everyone involved. It was just something his brain blocked out to try and save him from the pain. 

Two memories stand out so vividly in his memory though. Both from when he was a kid. One with Bruce and Dick. One with his mother. 

After he was diagnosed, they left Leslie’s. The three of them drove home in silence. Jason didn’t talk much during the appointment. He honestly didn’t really understand all the words that were being used. But he saw Dick’s face. He saw Bruce’s face. He saw their reactions to what was wrong with him. Judging by their reactions, it must have been bad. He felt ashamed and he didn’t fully know why. He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he knew it wasn’t good. His brother and his father were looking at Leslie and they both looked so…broken. So that had to mean Jason was broken too. He was broken and he couldn’t be fixed. 

So, he stayed quiet. He stayed quiet at the office. He stayed quiet on the ride home. He just kept his head down, fiddling with the sleeve of Dick’s hoodie he stole from his closet. He didn’t say anything until they were back home and the two of them sat Jason down on the library couch. Dick sat beside him, holding one of his hands. Bruce knelt in front of him, gently placing his hands over Jason’s knees. He sheepishly looked up at his father, letting his legs dangle off the couch. His feet still couldn’t touch the floor.

“Jay,” Bruce started, glancing up at Dick. “Do you understand what Leslie said today?” He asked slowly. Jason hesitated for a second before shaking his head. Bruce frowned at him, cupping his face with one hand as his lips pressed into a line. “She…She said you have Bipolar Disorder.” He explained slowly. “Do you know what that means..?”

Jason once again only shook his head. He was afraid to speak. His hand was shaking in Dick’s. He felt like he wanted to cry. He couldn’t. He couldn’t cry. Because he was already broken. If he started to cry, it would just give Dick and Bruce another reason to not want him anymore. 

“No.” Jason replied. His voice cracked. His lip was wobbling. He could feel the tears starting to build up in his eyes. He only just got adopted. He’s only been at the manor for a year and he was so scared Bruce would send him back. He didn’t want to go back.

 He didn’t want to be broken. 

“Hey, It’s alright.” Brushed cooed. 

“A-Am I in trouble…?” Jason asked quietly. His voice wobbled. He didn’t want to be in trouble. He’s tried so hard to be good. He’s tried so so hard. He trained every day. He did all his homework and did what he was told to do. Even after a year, he’s never actually been in trouble with Bruce. But he remembers what it was like when his biological dad got angry with him. 

“No.” Dick replied fast. “You’re not in trouble, Jay.” He frowned, using his free hand to try and rub a few circles in his little brother’s back. 

“You are not in trouble.” Bruce nodded. “It just…It means that sometimes your brain does funny stuff.” He explained. “But it’s not your fault. Leslie is just going to give you some medicine to make you better.”

Jason had big fat tears rolling down his cheeks at his point. His breathing was ragged as he tried to suck in a single breath. He couldn’t. 

“A-Are you gonna send me back?” He managed to get out before the flood gates opened. The sob that came out of his mouth twisted itself in Bruce’s stomach. 

“No! No, of course not, sweetheart.” Bruce frowned before quickly pulling his boy into his arms. Jason clung to him tightly and sobbed. Twisting his little fists into Bruce’s shirt. 

He didn’t want to go away. He loved his family. He loved being Robin. His mother was dead and his father was in jail. Either he was going to some orphanage in the city or he would just go back to being on the street because there was something wrong with him. 

“You’re not going anywhere. Ever. Okay?” Bruce mumbled into his hair. “Jason, look at me.” He sighed, pulling back just enough to get a good look at his sons’ face. Jason’s lip was still wobbling. He sniffled, trying to messily wipe his own tears away and catch his breath. Twelve years old and trying so hard to pull himself together. “You’re not going anywhere. I love you. Dick loves you. Alfred loves you. You’re my son and you’re staying right here with us. Okay? I promise.” 

“Leslie said that sometimes, your brain is going to tell you lots of stuff. When you start to feel like you did the other day, what your brain is telling you isn’t real.” Bruce explained slowly. “Sometimes you might see or hear things that aren’t really there or it tells you to do crazy stuff. But that’s okay. Because this medicine is going to make you feel better and me and Dick are going to make sure nothing bad happens to you.” He said softly, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears off Jason’s cheeks. 

“That’s right.” Dick said with a sad smile. “It’s my job as your big brother to protect you. So, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. If you start to feel like you did the other day, just tell me or Bruce and we’ll take care of it. Okay?” 

Jason still had a frown tugging on his lips, but he nodded anyway. He still didn’t fully understand what was going on, but he trusted them. He was broken but they still wanted him anyway. 

The second memory was never as nice to think about. Jason knows he’s done some crazy things before but sometimes he doesn’t fully remember them. His brain just blacks out sometimes when he’s manic or when he’s too depressed. 

He wished it was the case for his memories of his mother. Jason has no doubt in his mind that his mother loved him. He knew she did. But she was sick. Even before he knew what was going on, he knew his mother was sick. Besides the drugs, his mother wasn’t well. She never was. His entire childhood, his mother was only just hanging on by a thread. Looking back down, as an adult, he knows why he is the way he is. Because his mother was the same way. Sometimes it was really nice. Sometimes, she didn’t even need the drugs to be good. She would wake up in the morning. All smiles and scooping Jason into her arms with promises and plans of the great days they were going to have. The two of them would run around for hours and hours. She never seemed to get tired. They painted his room a new color and moved his bed around. 

Sometimes, it wasn’t as nice. Sometimes, she wouldn’t get out of bed. No matter how hard Jason tried. 

“Mama. Up.” Jason huffed, trying to pull the blankets down. He was only three. “Mammmaaa.” He whined. “Mama, up!” She didn’t move. She kept an iron grip on the blankets. His dad had already left for work that morning, waving Jason off and saying his mother would get up and feed him. “Mama sick?” He frowned, using a single chubby finger to try and poke her cheek. When he was sick, she would lean in real close and press her lips to his forehead. He didn’t know why, but that’s what she did. So, Jason did the same thing. He hoisted himself up on the bed, leaning in close and pressed his lips to her forehead. When he pulled back, she still didn’t move. 

She didn’t move at all that day. Willis Todd came home to find his three year old sitting on the bedroom floor with a handful of stale cheerios in his fist and his wife almost catatonic in bed. In the same spot she was when he left. 

A few years later, when Jason just turned six, he woke up to noise in the living room. He carefully crawled out of bed and poked his head out. He saw his mother standing on the back of the couch and using her lipstick to write her own bible on the walls. The next day, she was taken away. Jason sobbed as he watched these men come in and steal his mother away. Willis just grabbed him by the back of the shirt to keep him from running after her. 

She came home a week later like nothing had happened. When Jason ran to meet her at the door, he asked where she went. She just smiled and told him not to worry about it before she started to make lunch. It wasn’t the last time she was taken and sent away. But each time, neither of his parents talked about it. His mother pretended like it didn’t even happen. His father just ignored the questions before telling Jason to grab him another beer from the fridge. 

All he knew was that sometimes, his mother acted crazy. She said weird things. She did weird things. Then, she would get sent away for a while and come back like nothing happened. As he got older and she started to do more drugs, the crazy times happened less and less. As he got older, it just got harder for her not to shoot her veins full of junk and rot in bed 

When Jason woke up, Bruce managed to convince him to take his meds. He didn’t put up much of a fight. He honestly really did just run out. He didn’t have the time to pick them up. By the time work had slowed down, the mania was already starting to settle in. Whispering to him about how he didn’t even need his meds anymore. So he listened. 

Part of him wishes his family would stop babying him. He was an adult. He had his own apartment and his own life. He didn’t need his father and brother treating him like a child anymore. But, the other part of him knows what would happen if they stopped. If he didn’t have Dick and Bruce, he would probably be dead. Their babying keeps him sane. It keeps him alive no matter how much he hates it. 

They act like he can’t take care of himself. Maybe he can’t. A few months of living on his own and he already forgot to take his meds. He started to spiral and he couldn’t stop himself from getting out of control. 

Sometimes, Jason still feels broken. Just like he did when he was little. He was damaged. There was something deeply wrong with him that he had no control over. Something broken that his family continuously tried to fix. Always cleaning up after him. Always keeping him alive. 

Chapter Text

When Jason Todd was thirteen, he had his first full blown depressive episode. Bruce and Dick took a lot of time explaining to him what his diagnosis was. What could happen. What his meds were for. What to do if he feels himself slipping again. The breakdown that led to the diagnosis was all mania. It crept in before he even knew what was happening and then he mellowed out. He was put on his meds and was relatively fine after that. Until the depression hit. 

He thought if anything were to happen again, it would be slow. Like the first time. Something he could look out for. Look for the signs so he could tell his father or brother what was happening. The low wasn’t like that. One day, Jason was feeling fine. The next, he couldn’t get out of bed. 

When he woke up that day, the second he opened his eyes all he could feel was like an impending doom. It felt as though the world would simply swallow him whole and he would be lost in the void forever. The second Jason woke up that day, his fists balled up in his blankets. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong but he couldn’t bring himself to even get out of bed. Some part of him knew he should tell Bruce. He should get up and tell Dick. But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t make his body move. He thought about his mother. How she would lay in the same exact position for days and days on end. Not eating. Not drinking. Barely existing. She became a shell of herself. Jason didn’t understand when he was little. Why couldn’t she just get up? But now he did. He understood perfectly because he couldn’t move. His mind was racing but not in the same way it was before. 

Before, his mind was working a million miles a minute about all the things he needed to do. Before the psychosis set in at least. This time, all he could manage to think of was all of the bad. 

His mother’s dead body laying on the bathroom floor, covered in her own vomit. His father beating him until he was black and blue and had blood staining his new shirt. He thought of running away the second the cops showed up at his door to take his father to prison. Running around the streets trying to survive with nothing. 

His mind wouldn’t stop replaying all of the horrible things he already had to live through in such a short amount of time. 

When he was manic, the little voice in his head was whispering to him. Whispering about how he could do anything. He didn’t need sleep because he was practically a god. Telling him all of the things he could get done with his new found energy. It kept him moving. It was a motivator to get things done and keep him running around. This time, the little voice in his head started to whisper again. 

Bruce never signed up to have a sick kid. He doesn’t want you anymore. 

They only keep you around because they feel sorry for you. 

Poor Jason Todd. No mother. No home. No family. 

Dick hates you for replacing him. He wishes Bruce left you on the street where he found you. 

The thoughts were so loud. Screaming inside his head over and over again until he couldn’t think of anything else. 

Screaming about how he might as well just die. It would save everyone a lot of trouble. 

By the time Dick walked in, Jason was silently crying into his pillow. He had the blankets wrapped around his head and ears in an attempt to shut the voices out. It didn’t work. It never would. 

Jason didn’t even register that Dick was talking to him at first. He sounded so far away. Like he was talking to Jason with his head underwater. Dick was there, in his room, in front of his face, but the voices were louder. Screaming and shouting at him about all the ways he could die. 

“-ttle Wing?”

You could run away again. A week back on the street and you’d be food for the rats.

“-ason?”

You could steal some of the pain meds in the cave. One strong dose and it’s lights out.

Let one of the villains kill you on patrol. Don’t fight back. Let them shoot. Don’t jump out of the way.

Drown yourself in the tub. Drink the cleaning chemicals Alfred keeps under the sink. Jump off the roof of the manor. Slit your wrists op-

“Jason!” Dick yelled, grabbing him by his shoulders and giving a firm shake. Jason’s eyes snapped up to meet his brother’s. It was hard to see through the tears but there was no mistaking Dick Grayson’s worried look. His big brother. “Hey, hey look at me.” Dick was frowning at him. He pulled his hoodie sleeve over his hand to start wiping away some of Jason’s tear tracks. “What happened?”

Jason only looked up at him, trying to suck in a breath. He was scared. Terrified. Not because of Dick, but because of himself. Jason never really understood before how a person could be afraid of themself, but now he did. The thoughts running through his head were starting to settle into his skin. Sinking in and consuming all that he is. Eating away at his bone marrow until there was nothing left but darkness and a void of who he used to be. 

“D-Dickie,” Jason mumbled out softly. “I don’t feel good.” He tried to remember. Tried to remember what Dick and Bruce had said when he was diagnosed. If he started to feel bad again just to tell them. If he told them, they could make it better. 

Dick seemed to understand what he meant instantly. His face dropped. He looked so fucking sad. Jason hated it when Dick looked sad. 

“Okay…okay. It’s okay.” Dick said softly, brushing some of Jason’s hair off of his forehead. “You’ll be okay. I’m gonna go get Bruce and we’ll figure it out.” He said, forcing a small smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Don’t leave.” Jason cried, shaking his head frantically, reaching out to grab onto his brother’s wrist when he tried to pull back. 

Dick was frowning again. Just looking at Jason’s face. Like he was thinking of what to do. He couldn’t leave him alone but he needed to tell someone what was going on. Bruce and Alfred were downstairs in the kitchen, but Jason was a wreck. He looked terrified.

“O-Okay. C’mon.” Dick mumbled softly before leaning down and scooping Jason into his arms. Kill two birds with one stone. Don’t leave Jason alone. Still go get help. “It’s gonna be okay.” He sighed before he started his walk back downstairs and to the kitchen. 

Jason didn’t go to school that day. Bruce rushed him to Leslie’s office to have his doses adjusted. The episode lasted for three days. They were the longest three days of everyone’s life. Jason was afraid to be left alone, but didn’t tell anyone why. He didn’t dare say anything about the fact that if he was left alone, he was scared he’d end up hurting himself. He didn’t have to say it though. Someone sat with him the whole time. It started the routine of Jason not being left alone when he started to spiral. Ten years later, the same routine is still in place. Even more so now after what happened. Only now, Tim was put in to watch and make sure nothing bad happened. 

—

When Tim moved into the manor, Jason had already quit being Robin. Jason had just turned sixteen and was determined to be more independent. He wanted to be his own hero just like Dick had done. It was a fight. Like most things ended up being between Jason and Bruce. 

Bruce claimed he wasn’t ready to go out on his own. Jason yelled about how he was ready and how unfair it was that Dick got to quit when he wanted with no issue. Bruce just let him do it and supported him the whole way. 

“Why!? Tell me why I can’t!” Jason yelled, throwing his hands up in the air as he glared at his father. “You let Dick do it!”

“Because I said so!” Bruce yelled back. “You’re not ready to go out on your own, Jason!”

“That’s bullshit! I’m just as good as Dick was when he was my age! You’re not being fair! I can do this!”

“I don’t need to be fair! I’m your father!” Bruce groaned. “Jason, you are not ready to go out on your own! If you don’t want to be Robin anymore that’s fine! But you are not going to go out and do your own thing just because you want to!”

“Why not!?” Jason screamed. “You still haven’t given me one single reason as to why! It’s not fucking fair! You can’t just keep me locked up here forever!”

Dick was listening from the hallway. He wanted to rush in. He wanted to help, but he couldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. This whole fight was about Jason getting more independence. Dick knew Jason wanted to fight his own battles. If Dick rushed in there to try and help, Jason would probably punch him in the face and claim he didn’t need help. 

“You know why!” Bruce screamed back before letting out a deep sigh, running his hand down his face. Jason’s face screwed up. His hands were balled up at his side and he looked seconds away from bursting into flames from pure rage. 

“I’m not a baby!” Jason screamed back. “You-You can’t just baby me forever! I can fucking take care of myself!” 

“No you can’t.” Bruce said it before he could stop himself. The words just slipped out before he could stop them and Jason froze, staring at his father with those wide sad eyes. Bruce looked at his son and frowned to himself. Jason was looking at him like he got hit. Like he couldn’t believe Bruce would say what he just did. 

From outside, Dick sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. The room went silent. Jason wasn’t screaming anymore. Bruce wasn’t screaming anymore. The silence stretched on before a smash echoed out. The sound of shattered glass and a chair being flipped over before Jason started to scream again. 

“I hate you!” He screamed, throwing a cup of pens on Bruce’s desk at the wall. “I fucking hate you!” He yelled again before tugging at his own hair. “You can’t stop me! You can’t! Go fuck yourself!” Dick watched as Jason ran out of the study and stormed off down the hall. 

Dick wanted to go after him. He should have gone after him. After that night, Jason didn’t speak to Bruce for three months. Three whole months of tense silence. Of Jason leaving the room the second Bruce walked in. Three whole months of Batman going out without Robin. 

Dick watched it all unfold. He was stuck in the middle. He tried his best. He really did. He listened to Jason rant and complain about how controlling Bruce was. He listened to Bruce mumble about how Jason just wasn’t mature enough to make this decision. The worst part was that he understood where they were both coming from. From Jason’s perspective, it was unfair. Dick had gone out to do his own thing when he was Jason’s age and Bruce couldn’t give him a single good reason as to why he wasn’t allowed to do the same. From Bruce’s perspective, he had an unwell son. A son that could easily fall off the rails at any point and needed supervision to make sure he was alright enough to do his work. 

Dick floated around the manor for three months walking on eggshells. He couldn’t pick a side. He couldn’t give any advice that leaned too far one way or the other. All he could do was listen. Until Jason came home one day and shoved a scrawny thirteen year old at Bruce with a glare. 

“Here. He’s your new Robin.” Jason mumbled. It was the first time they had spoken in months. Dick watched from the other side of the room with wide eyes as this little kid just waved up at Bruce. 

“I-I’m sorry…what?” Bruce asked slowly. 

“He’s your new Robin. Timothy Drake. He lives next door.” Jason sighed loudly. Bruce casted a glance over to Dick with the same shocked expression. It was rule number one not to tell anyone their secret, and Jason just walked in with the neighbor's kid and announced he would be taking up the Robin mantle like it was nothing. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I already knew you were Batman.” Tim hummed with a shrug of his shoulders. “Jason didn’t tell me or anything.” Bruce’s gaze snapped back to the kid in question. Apparently he could also read minds. Or, he was just very good at reading people. 

“I-” Bruce started again before running a hand down his face. “What..?”

“I already knew.” Tim said simply. “You’re not very good at hiding it. You should work on that. Maybe act a bit crazier when you’re out in public. Or stupid. Either works.” The kid said very matter of factly, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“New Robin.” Jason said again, wrapping an arm around Tim’s shoulder. “He’ll do great or whatever. I don’t want the fucking job. He does. It’s perfect. Just let him do it.” Jason huffed. “Plus, he lives alone so his parents won’t ask any questions.” That really caught Bruce’s attention before he was looking back down at Tim. 

“You…You live alone..? In that house?” Bruce asked slowly. Dick could already see the gears turning in his father’s head. At that very moment, Dick knew he would be gaining another brother. 

“Pretty much.” Tim shrugged. “My parents are gone a lot for work. Last year, they were only home for like six days all together. So don’t worry. They won’t find out or anything. Plus, I’ve known for years and I never told anyone. I’m a really good secret keeper.” Tim said with a smile. Jason nodded along, keeping his arm slung over the younger boy’s shoulder. 

“See? He’s perfect. Start training him and I’m going to start going out on my own and you can’t stop me.” Jason declared. Bruce really had no choice. There was no way in hell he was going to let that boy go back to that big empty house again. Tim Drake walked into their lives that day and never left. Dick never found out the details, but getting the Drake’s to sign over custody wasn’t very hard. 

When Tim moved in, he knew Jason wasn’t…well. He didn’t exactly know why, but he knew something was off. Before Jason brought him home, the two of them had been friends for a while. Tim wasn’t stupid. He had known Jason was Robin years before they even became friends. He just picked up on some traits that weren’t exactly normal. Like how Jason tended to jump from one extreme to the next. Totally happy and calm to rage in a matter of seconds over little things. He noticed that sometimes Jason would have a hard time sitting still or he struggled to get through a school day. None of it was very normal behavior, but Jason was his friend. If there was something going on, he would tell him if he wanted to. Tim was never going to pry. 

Two months after Tim moved in, Jason came clean. Apparently, he made Dick, Brue and Alfred promise not to say anything. He swore he would tell Tim himself. Claiming it was his business and nobody else’s. The two of them were outside, sitting on the patio in the backyard when Jason finally told him. Tim sat there and listened as Jason told him exactly what was…different about him. Bipolar I. That he was on medication to keep it under control but sometimes it didn’t always work. Tim simply sat there and listened as Jason talked. He could tell it was hard for Jason to talk about. He also got the feeling Jason was worried he would react badly. He didn’t. He just sat there and listened. 

Having bipolar wasn’t who Jason was. It was just something that was a part of him. 

Tim knew that from the second he found out. Jason was his friend first. Now, a brother. He cared about him and the last thing he wanted was for Jason to think it was a big deal or that it was something that would change their friendship. 

After he knew, it didn’t change anything. Even after the first episode Tim was there for. He still had the scar to remember that night. 

Tim woke up to the thumping. He shot up in bed and quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he tried to focus on the noise. Bruce was gone on some business trip for the next two days, so it couldn’t have been him. Dick went to sleep before Tim did, so it was unlikely it was him. 

Jason. 

Jason had been acting weird the past few days since Bruce left. It was…weird. But, one thing Tim has gotten good at is watching. He was always watching the things and the people around him. Even more so now that Bruce was training him. He tried to think back to when exactly Jason had started acting strange. Bruce had left in the morning right after breakfast. He said goodbye to them all with a smile and a light kiss on the forehead. He said goodbye to Jason that morning and slipped him a little plastic cup with his meds in it. Even at seventeen, Bruce still didn’t fully trust Jason to take his meds on his own. Nobody ever said it outloud. Not even Jason. But, Tim noticed. Bruce gave Jason his meds every single morning before they were off to school or work. Bruce slipped the little cup into his son’s hand as he gave his forehead a quick kiss and was rushing out the door to leave. Jason had looked down at the little cup for a few seconds before Dick was pushing himself up from the table and trying to usher them both out the door to get to school. 

Tim doesn’t remember Jason taking his meds. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember. He also couldn’t remember Jason taking his medication since Bruce had been gone. Just Dick giving him a careful reminder to take them. Or Alfred sliding his meds across the table at breakfast. Tim only remembers watching Jason look at the little cup and the next moment, the cup was empty and Jason continued on eating. He doesn’t actually remember watching him take his meds at all the past few days. 

He didn’t want to assume Jason had been skipping his dose. But right now, there was thudding coming from the roof and Tim couldn’t fucking remember. He shot out of bed and made his way to the hallway. Dick was opening his door at the same time with a confused look. Once he spotted Tim, the two of them shared a look before running up the stairs towards the roof. 

Unfortunately, Tim was right. Jason was on the roof in his bare feet and pajama bottoms standing in the snow. Tim watched as he looked up to the sky for a minute before he jumped in place a few times with a wild smile stretched across his face. 

“Jason.” Dick frowned. That caught Jason’s attention. He snapped his gaze towards his two brothers and laughed, holding his hands out to try and catch a few stray snow flakes. 

“Look! It snowed!” Jason declared with another laugh. It was the first snow of the year. There was a solid five inches covering the roof and soaking the bottom of Jason’s plaid pants already and by the scarlet red color of his exposed skin, he had already been out there for a while. 

“Jason, come back inside.” Dick frowned. He looked tired. Not only because he was woken up in the middle of the night. A deep sort of tiredness that made Tim’s chest ache. 

“No.” Jason frowned, shaking his head as he jumped a few more times. Tim couldn’t exactly figure out why he kept jumping. Maybe it was to get blood circulating back to his frozen feet. Maybe he just couldn’t keep still. 

“Jason-” Dick sighed before Jason started waving his hands around and cutting him off. 

“No!” Jason yelled, eyebrows scrunching up as he tugged at his hair. His eye was twitching. “N-No, you don’t get it! Look!” He huffed, waving his hands around to the open air. “I asked for this! I-I asked for snow and it happened! Don’t you get it? I’m a fucking God!” He snapped harshly. 

Tim flinched slightly. He was already shivering. Only a few minutes outside in pants and a long sleeve shirt and he was already shivering. Jason was out there in nothing but his bottoms and he wasn’t shivering at all. In all honesty, he looked like shit. His skin was red from the cold, his nose was an angry shade of pink and his hair was already wild and damp from the snow falling on his head. 

“Jason, come back inside.” Dick tried again. He wasn’t yelling back. Jason’s face screwed up before he started to pace back and forth as his eye twitched away. 

“NO!” Jason yelled before another manic laugh was bubbling out of his throat. “I-I’m a fucking God.” He laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. It wasn’t the usual bubbly Jason laugh that Tim was used to. It was hollow and cold. It was manic. A little more push and he would have started to sound like the mad clown. 

“Jay, c’mon.” Tim tried carefully before taking a few slow steps forward. Jason was still pacing. But he was pacing too close to the edge of the roof. It was making anxiety start to crawl up Tim’s spine. 

“God, you people don’t understand anything!” Jason laughed before he was glaring at Tim. “S-Stay back!” Tim stopped moving. He held his hand out with a frown. 

“Just take a few steps back, alright?” Tim tried before Jason was laughing again. 

“What? You're afraid I’ll fall? So what if I did? It wouldn’t matter. Gods can’t die.” Jason smiled as he looked over the edge of the manor’s roof. Dick tried to rush forward before Jason was spinning around and holding his hand out. “Stop! Don’t fucking come near me!” He snapped. Dick stopped in his tracks only a few steps closer than Tim. 

“Little Wing, please.” Dick frowned, his voice broke. It was making Tim fucking sick to his stomach. “Just take a few steps back. Please.” He was begging. Dick didn’t try to move closer out of fear. Even when Jason took another step closer to the edge. “J-Jason-”

“Just shut the fuck up! Okay!? Just shut the fuck up for a second!” Jason snapped. He was looking over the edge of the roof. His damp hair was hanging in front of his face as the snow continued to fall. “It can’t hurt me.” Jason said simply. The tips of his toes were hanging over the edge, his eyes glued to the ground beneath him. Dick was choking back his own cries, in fear it would quite literally push Jason over the edge. Tim was panicking. Jason was only inches away from falling off the fucking roof and he was panicking.

“Jason, please.” Dick begged softly. Jason started to shake his head. He lifted one single foot and let it dangle over the edge in the open air. 

“We’re all Robins, right?” Jason asked with a small frown. “Robins can fly. They can fly away whenever they want. So why can’t I?”

Tim could feel the bile wanting to make its way up his throat. He was shivering, his clothes were slowly starting to soak through and his brother was about to fucking kill himself. 

Tim Drake had always been a person to think things through. Always look at every angle. Try and find the best possible solution. Not that night. That night, he sprang forward without thinking and wrapped his arms around Jason before throwing him back and away from the edge. Dick caught Jason the second he left Tim’s arms, wrapping his arms around him tightly as Jason started to scream and thrash in his grip. The momentum was something Tim didn’t account for. Neither was the ice. His foot slipped. 

Tim didn’t have much time to think about anything else before he was catching himself on the gutters. Robin training could only take you so far. His eyes went wide and he held onto the gutters for dear life with whatever energy his frozen hands still had. 

He thinks he heard Dick screaming. Jason never stopped. It was hard to tell whose voice was whose when all the blood in his body was rushing in his ears. Wayne manor wasn’t a small house. There were six floors of open space between Tim and the ground. Six stories. Enough that it could very possibly kill him. Or at the very least change his life forever. There was no way he was going to fall that far with zero consequences no matter how much Robin training he had. 

He braced himself. He tried to prepare himself to die. 

He couldn’t pull himself up. His muscles were locked from the cold and the ice was making it almost impossible to hang on at all. Any movement and his fingers would slip. One false flex of his muscles and it would be lights out. 

He shut his eyes. He took one last shaking breath before he was going to let go. Then, Dick’s face was above his and he was grabbing onto his forearms with a death grip. 

“Tim! Timmy, it’s okay. I got you.” Dick rushed out. Tim’s eyes flew open when he felt his older brother grab him. Dick was laying on his stomach, half hanging off the roof to try and get a good grip. 

“W-Where’s Jason?” Tim asked in a panic. 

“Alfred’s got him. It’s okay.” Dick promised before he was getting a better grip on Tim’s arms. “I’m gonna pull you up, okay? Just hold on.” 

Tim didn’t even notice he sliced his leg open on the fall until they were back inside. Alfred had to sedate Jason to get him to calm down. Tim’s adrenaline was still pumping until he was half way back to his room and the sharp pain caught his attention. He looked down and saw the trail of blood following him down the hallway like a fucked up shadow. 

He got six stitches. 

Alfred said he probably cut it on the gutter when he fell, but his adrenaline was too high for him to notice. His body was blocking out everything that wasn’t for survival. 

The next morning, Jason knocked on his door. He had tears brimming in his eyes as he said he was sorry. Over and over again. He felt horrible. Tim could see it. Jason really did feel awful about what happened the night before. 

Tim forgave him. Of course he did. He had no reason not to. He knew Jason wasn’t himself. He didn’t mean for Tim to get hurt. Jason wouldn’t hurt him in a million years and he knew that. The two of them spent the day in Tim’s room while he kept his leg elevated. Jason crawled into his bed and they just spent the rest of the day watching movies. 

They didn’t talk about that night again after that. 

—

After Bruce got Jason to take his meds, it took a few days for him to level back out again. He spent that time in the manor, usually with someone else with him - just in case. He never liked to talk about the aftermath of an episode. No matter if it was mania or depression, Jason didn’t like to talk about it. He never brought things up. If someone else tried, he would shut it down or leave the room before it got any further. 

Part of it was because he was embarrassed. The other part was because he felt such a deep sense of shame and guilt it made him physically ill. He always felt horrible. The one and only time he could remember doing something afterwards besides shutting down, was when he almost killed Tim. 

It was all Jason’s fault and he knew it. If Tim had been one second late on his reflexes, he would have died and it would have been all Jason’s fault. That night still haunted him. One of the many. He could never get over the sick feeling that sank into his skin when he looked at the deep and jagged scars on his arms. 

The feeling of being something that was broken or defective never went away for Jason. From the second he was diagnosed, he felt like his entire life was one major fuck up and problem to the rest of the family. It only got worse as he got older. Granted, as he got older, his episodes got worse. They happened less now. He was done growing. His body was done changing. The only slip ups he had now were entirely his own fault. Missing his meds or not picking up his prescription when he should. 

Jason laid in his bed at the manor, staring up at the ceiling. He should probably go home. He had cases he needed to look into and finish. He had kids in the neighborhood to check up on. He had things to do. But, Bruce was still keeping a close eye on him. Afraid one small mistake would send him back into a spiral. 

Jason hated it. He hated everything about it. Ten years of his family treating him like he would break. Ten years of being watched like a toddler. Ten years of putting his family through hell over something he had little to no control over. 

No matter how many years go by, there is always going to be that little voice in the back of his head to remind him Bruce didn’t sign up to get a sick kid. It wasn’t his fault. Bad genetics and a bad draw of the cards were to blame, but that didn’t change anything. It didn’t change who Jason was. 

Jason took a deep breath, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes as he tried to think of something else. Anything else that wasn’t how much of a fucking disappointment he was as a son. Or, how he was even a bigger disappointment as a brother. He took another deep sigh before rolling himself out of bed and walking out to the hall. A few doors down, he gave a gentle knock on Dick’s door, waiting for the okay to come in. It was early. Probably too early for Dick to actually be awake and functioning, but Jason couldn’t sleep. Not from mania. Just…anxiety. 

Once he got the hum from the other side of the door from Dick, Jason walked in, softly shutting the door behind him. “Little Wing?” Dick frowned with a small yawn, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Are you okay?” 

Jason didn’t say anything. He silently walked over to his brother’s bed before carefully climbing in and getting under the covers just like he did when he was little. He rested his head on Dick’s other pillow and nodded slightly. “I’m fine.” Jason mumbled softly.  Dick nodded and laid back down, facing his little brother as he pulled the blankets over both of them. 

“Are you sure..?” Dick whispered. Jason nodded, letting his fingers mindlessly tangle themselves into the loose threads of Dick’s blanket before he decided to speak up. He was up all night. He had a lot of time to think about what he wanted to say. What he needed to say. 

“I’m really sorry, Dickie.” Jason whispered back. 

Dick frowned, reaching a hand out to gently push some of Jason’s hair back. “Sorry about what..?”

“I’m sorry that I’m such a mess sometimes.” Jason frowned. “It-It’s not fair to you and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do it, but I do.” He mumbled. “And I’m sorry you’ve had to clean up after me all these years. That isn’t fair to you either.” Dick frowned, but stayed quiet as Jason tried to figure out his own words. Dick was looking right at him. Jason was looking at the sheets by his hands. “I…I don’t think I could ever realise how hard it’s been on you but I know I’m not the easiest person to have to deal with.”

“Jay-” Dick tried to cut in before Jason just kept going. He couldn’t stop. He needed to say it. He needed to get it all out before it ate him alive.

“I know you cleaned up the bathroom last time.” Jason frowned. “And I know you cleaned the cave when I wrote all over the walls and you pulled Tim up when he almost fell off the roof because of me. You helped me fix my hair when I tried to cut it all off in the bathroom.” He mumbled, idly twisting the same single thread around his finger. Over and over. “And you help remind me about my meds and you check in with me when I don’t see you for a few days just to make sure I’m doing okay. I’m sorry you do it all but-” He started before cutting himself off with a crack in his voice. “But without you I would either be a mess or I’d probably be dead.” He said softly. He could hear the way Dick’s breath hitched in his throat. Jason squeezed his eyes shut and took a single breath in. “I know…I know I’m not the brother you thought you were going to get. But, you are exactly the kind of brother I always wanted. I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I’m a lot sometimes, but I love you and I appreciate everything you do for me even though I have a hard time showing it most of the time.” 

Dick was quiet. Only for a second. Jason kept his eyes shut. He couldn’t look yet. He felt like he wanted to throw up. For a guy who had very little control over his own emotions, Jason did not like opening up and talking about his feelings. Ever. Point blank period. 

Maybe it was a coping mechanism. Because he would fly off the handle and have zero control over himself, when he did have control it was just better to shut them off and not think about it. Never talk about it. Close off and keep everything buried deep inside. Try to make up for everything he said or did when he had no control. 

Opening up was hard. It was one of Jason’s least favorite things. That’s probably why he always hated his fucking therapist with a burning passion. 

“Thank you…” Dick said quietly. So quiet Jason almost missed it. 

Jason cracked his eyes open and just saw his big brother looking back at him. As much as Jason liked to complain about his family babying him all the time, Dick took care of him. He loved him wholeheartedly with zero questions. He always had. 

Dick didn’t clean up after him and take care of him because he felt like he had to. Dick did it because he loved him. That was one thing that never really clicked in Jason’s head until now. Dick didn’t look at him like a burden or something he had to deal with. He did it because he simply loved his little brother. 

“I’m really sorry.” Jason whispered back with a frown tugging at his lips. He was. He really was so fucking sorry. Ten years worth of sorry. 

“I know.” Dick frowned back before wrapping his arms around Jason tightly and pulling him close. Jason went willingly. Shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath as his brother hugged him. Jason wasn’t a little kid anymore. He was almost Dick’s height. He wasn’t the same scrawny little kid Bruce plucked off the street, but Dick didn’t care. He never did. He always treated and held onto Jason like he always had. “Are you feeling any better today?” He asked quietly as he carefully brushed back some of Jason’s hair. 

Jason nodded his head, keeping his eyes shut as he took another deep breath. He did. Not only because he was back on his meds or because he was finally starting to feel somewhat normal. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

He knew he should be more open. He really does. It was just a lot harder to actually do than he would like. But, doing it made him feel a lot better. Jason never wanted Dick to feel like it was nothing. Jason knew. He saw it. He saw the sacrifices Dick had made over the years for him. But admitting he saw those things was like admitting he had a problem. Which he did. Jason didn’t want to have a problem. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be like everyone else in his family. The reality simply was that he wasn’t like them. He did have a problem. Jason not admitting his own issues shouldn’t have been put on Dick. Not ever. He hated feeling like him not being able to talk about what was going on with him was putting a weight on his brother. Because he loved Dick.

“I’m going back home tonight.” Jason mumbled. 

“Okay.” Dick said simply. He never stopped petting Jason’s hair. 

“I have all my prescriptions and everything all packed.” 

“Okay.”

“And reminders set on my phone so I won’t forget to take them..” Jason admitted quietly. He hated that. He hated that he had to prove he was responsible enough to still be on his own. But, it was for the best. It was what he needed. 

“Alright.” Dick hummed. “I trust you. You know that.” 

Jason did know that. Sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. It was something he always needed to remind himself of. 

Dick always fought for him. Anytime Bruce tried to step in and take control, Dick was always at his side fighting for his independence. He knew what it was like to have Bruce be…over protective. Maybe sometimes a little suffocating even though he means well. Dick had the same fights at some point. 

“I know.” Jason sighed. “But-” He mumbled, letting his fingers still idly twist in the loose threads. “But, can I just lay here a little longer before I go?” 

“Of course you can.” Dick smiled. “You can stay as long as you like.”

Jason Todd’s life was far from perfect. A dead mom, a father in prison, a family history of some pretty intense mental health issues and his dad dressed up like a bat at night to beat up criminals. His life was not perfect and it probably never would be. He knew he would spend the rest of his life struggling with himself. 

But for now, he just laid in his big brother’s bed just like he always did when he was little and he soaked in the silence.