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Chapter Text

“How many times do I have to tell you? You cannot go running into action without a plan! Your recklessness almost cost us the mission!” Bruce screamed in Dick’s face as they arrived back at the Batcave. 

“Would you have preferred it if I didn't save that little girl? I didn’t have time to react! The building was about to collapse on top of her!” Dick yelled back at Bruce. 

Neither of them noticed the crowd watching their screaming match. 

“What would you have done if you weren’t fast enough? Then both you and that little girl would have been killed! I had a plan. If you had just listened to me, the culprit wouldn’t have had time to almost escape!” 

“You’re blaming me for that? It was your own incompetence that allowed him to get away in the first place!” Dick throat was starting to hurt from his screams. His shoulders were raised slightly, his breathing rapid, like his self control was slowly weaning away. 

“That’s not the point! You could have gotten hurt because you acted without thinking!” Bruce yelled as he threw his hands up in exacerbation. 

“Oh, stop acting as if you care!” 

“Of course I care if you got hurt!” 

“You’ve never acted like it before!” Dick said as tears started to form in his eyes. 

Bruce winced as if he had been slapped. He was quiet for a moment before he responded, “Is that what you really think?” 

“What else am I supposed to think? You took me in as a kid but treated me more as a tool than your ward.” 

“That’s not true and you know it. I have always cared about you and have done my best with raising you.” 

“You raised me with cold precision. You never expressed your emotions, using Batman as an outlet instead of relying on your family.” 

“And what family would that be?” Bruce asked coldly, starkly reminded of his own dead parents. 

“Me! All of us! We were supposed to be your family, but you cared more about replacing one of us as soon as the Robin position became vacant. You don’t have the emotional capacity to treat any of us with the love we deserve!” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bruce said through gritted teeth. “Yes, I’ve made mistakes but I did my best with each of you. I care about all of you as if you were my own.” 

“Bull-fucking-shit,” Dick said as he jabbed a finger into Bruce's chest. “You aren’t capable of caring. All you do is cause pain, we would have been better off if you never came into our lives!” 

Bruce had nothing to say to that, head starting to hang low. Dick’s words were cutting, carving out his heart with his own insecurities. It was like all his thoughts were being directed at him by his eldest. But there was no way for him to know those things so Bruce figured that what he was saying must be true. Dick had no reason to lie right now. 

“Why have you even stayed around this long? Do you really think that you are doing Gotham a service by sticking around?” Dick continued to berate his mentor. He ignored the way Bruce’s eyes quickly met his own and flashed with hurt. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing by staying,” Bruce whispered.

“Well, you were wrong!” Dick screamed in Bruce’s face. “I hate to think about how much pain you’ve caused everyone. Maybe you should have been the one to die in that alley way.” 

Before Bruce could react, Dick was laying on the floor clutching his cheek. Bruce felt uneasy on his feet, he reached behind him to try and steady himself on the table. A strong arm carefully supported him before he could fall. 

“Dad, are you alright?” 

Bruce looked to see Jason at his side, his eyes were wide with an unreadable expression. 

“I’m fine, Jason. There was no need to punch Dick,” Bruce said as he tried to release himself from Jason’s grip. 

“How can you say that! He had no right to say any of those awful things to you.” 

“He was just telling the truth,” Bruce muttered to himself. 

“Father, you must not speak like that!” Damian said as he made his way towards his father’s side. 

Tim was crouched next to Dick, helping him into a sitting position. Dick looked around the room with an unfocused gaze. When his eyes landed on Bruce, he felt tears begin to fall. 

“Bruce - “ He tried to say but was quickly cut off by Tim putting a hand over his mouth. 

“Save it, Grayson. You’ve already said enough.” 

“It’s okay, Dick. Really. I always want you to feel comfortable enough to speak your truth.” Bruce said as he hesitantly made eye contact with him.

Bruce finally managed to release himself from Jason and made his way out of the Batcave. 

“Good night everyone,” Bruce said without turning around. 

Everyone was silent for a moment before Jason was on top of Dick. 

He screamed as he began to deliver a series of blows, Dick did nothing to stop it. 

“You piece of shit!” Jason yelled as he punched Dick in the face again. “How dare you talk to him like that!” 

It took both Tim and Damian to pull Jason off of Dick. 

“Why would you say something like that to Father?” Damian asked as he stood over Dick. 

“I don’t know,” Dick responded. 

“That’s not going to cut it Dickwad,” Jason hissed. 

“I don’t know why I said any of that!” Dick screamed, not able to hide the frustration in his voice. “It was like I wasn’t in control of myself. I don’t believe any of that! Surely you guys know that!” 

“What do you mean you didn’t feel in control of yourself?” Tim questioned. 

“I don’t know, it was like someone was controlling what I was saying. I was still aware of what I was saying but the words came out before I could even process I was saying them.” 

“Did you get hit with anything while out on patrol?” Tim asked, already in detective mode. 

“I’m not sure? Things are kinda a blur after the building collapsed.” 

“I’ll pull up the footage from the scene, see if there is anything we can see,” Tim said as he got to work. 

No one said anything as the footage was slowly pulled up. The video began as Batman and Nightwing appeared on the scene. An apartment building had caught on fire from a rogue magic user. Batman and Nightwing worked in perfect harmony as they evacuated the building. As they were pulling the last of the survivors out, the magic user attempted to run away while the vigilantes were distracted. Batman quickly caught the villain and began to tie his hands together when Dick ran back into the building. 

Batman yelled after him and waited a second before the building started to collapse. Without thinking, Bruce ran into the building and helped pull out an exhausted Nightwing and scared little girl. In all the commotion, the villain tried to run away but was stopped with a batarang hitting his head. The video ended there, showing nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Wait a minute,” Tim said as he began to enhance and enlarge a portion of the video. 

Clicking play, the screen showed the villain shooting an almost translucent beam at Dick before he turned to run away. 

Dick sank to the floor in relief, there was an explanation for his behavior.

“Maybe we should talk to Bruce to get his opinion? Just to let him know that you didn’t mean to say those things?”  Tim suggested. 

“I don’t think that’s wise at the moment,” Damian said. “Father seemed to be handling himself quite well. There is no point in upsetting him any further.” 

“What are you suggesting? We just don’t tell Bruce that his fucking son basically told him to kill himself because he was under the influence of a spell?” Jason said, trying to keep his cool. “I don’t see how not telling him will help?” 

“I’m just saying, I’m sure Father already figured out that Dick was not acting with his own intentions. If he didn’t know, then why would he leave the cave without addressing it?” Damian tried to reason. 

“I don’t know you guys,” Tim said. “What Dick said to him probably hit a little too close to home. I’m sure he was just putting on an act because he didn’t want us to think of him as weak.” 

“I’m going to bed,” Dick said as he stood up. 

He began to walk out of the Batcave when Jason grabbed his arm. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To Bludhaven,” Dick responded with a growl. 

“You have no right to leave! You don’t get to escape this mess, especially one that you created!” 

“Guys, calm down!” Tim said as he pushed his way between the two. “I think everyone should go home for the night. Bruce already went to bed so there is nothing more we can do right now. We can deal with it later, if it ends up being a problem.” 

With that, Dick, Jason and Tim all left for their respective apartments, leaving Damian and Alfred the only ones in the manor. Damian headed to bed and did his best to tune out the sounds of his fathers sobs coming from down the hall. 

The next morning, Damian waited patiently for his father to join him for breakfast. He fidgeted in his seat as he watched the hands on the clock. He had been waiting for almost an hour and he was beginning to grow anxious, not that he would ever admit that. 

Damian made eye contact with Alfred as he entered the room. “Will my father be joining me any time soon?” 

“I’m afraid Master Bruce is not feeling well. He has requested to be left alone for the time being. Now, you must finish your breakfast, you need to leave for school soon if you don’t want to be late.” 

“Oh,” Damian said in a quiet voice. “I’ll finish up then head out.” 

Damian did his best to eat despite the knots in his stomach. After scarfing down what he could manage, he turned to head out. 

Stopping in the doorway, Damian called out to Alfred “Watch over Father, please.” 

At school, Damian did his best to pay attention. He was finding it hard to focus with his overwhelming worry for his father. After listening to his father’s cries throughout the night, he barely got any sleep. Between the occasional sob and his own anxious heartbeat, he struggled to find comfort in his silk sheets. Damian was afraid for his father. Normally, he kept his emotions under lock and key but occasionally he would crack. His father would go days without sleep, while other times not leaving his bed for days. Alfred would have to force his father to eat after he would pass out from not eating enough. Damian would watch his father take his aggression out on criminals, sometimes stopping at the last moment before he went too far. If there was one thing for certain, his father was not the picture of sound mental health. 

The bell ringing pulled Damian out of his thoughts. As he made his way out, he kept an eye out for his father’s vehicle. Not seeing it, Damian let out a sigh of frustration. He had been hoping his father was feeling well enough to at least pick him up from school. As he was pulling his phone out to call Alfred, he noticed Dick’s car. 

Getting into the car, Damian greeted Dick, “Hello.” 

“Hey Dami, how was school today?” Dick asked, uncertainty in his voice. 

“Boring, like usual,” Damian said with a huff. 

“Awesome,” Dick said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his ears. 

The drive back to the manor was spent in silence. Occasionally, Dick would throw Damian a nervous gaze but Damian made sure to ignore him, favoring to look out the window. 

When they pulled in, Dick hesitated before unbuckling. 

“Ask,” Damian said abruptly, causing Dick to flinch. 

“What?” Dick said with a nervous laugh. “Ask what?” 

“Ask what you’ve been wanting to ask since you picked me up. You want to know how Father is doing.” 

“Am I that easy to read?” Dick said as he scratched his neck nervously. Face growing serious, he asked Damian, “How is he?” 

“Not great. Alfred said he was not feeling well this morning and didn’t want to be disturbed. Judging by how you picked me up instead of him, I’m assuming he is still in his room avoiding the world,” Damian said as he snarled at Dick. 

“Alfred called me and asked me to get you. He’s probably playing maid to our sick pops,” Dick tried to joke. 

“Or he didn’t want to leave Father unsupervised in fear of what he might do to himself,” Damian said with a bitter laugh. 

“Do something to himself? You don’t mean to suggest…,” Dick couldn’t finish his sentence. 

“What do you think? You’re the one who told him to kill himself last night!” Damian shouted, anger finally boiling to the surface. 

“You know I didn’t mean that! That wasn’t me who said those things, you saw the footage,” Dick said as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. 

“It doesn’t matter. Hearing from your family that you wished they had died is only going to fuck him up even more than he already is.” 

“Language,” Dick said without thinking. Suddenly, he felt tears begin to flow down his face. 

Trying to contain his tears but failing to do so, Dick began to cry in earnest. Damian was caught off guard by his brother’s sudden breakdown. Unsure of what to do, he grabbed Dick’s hand and squeezed. Dick responded in kind and began to calm down. 

“How do I fix this?” Dick asked. “He’s going to hate me.” 

“Father could never hate you. I think once we explain to him that you didn’t mean to say those things, he won’t be upset anymore,” Damian reasoned. 

“You really think that will fix everything? You haven’t known Bruce as long as I have. Those things I said will destroy him. It doesn’t matter if he knows I didn’t mean them. Those words will always stick with him,” Dick said as he lowered his head and gripped the steering wheel. “What if he does something?” 

“Father will pull through this,” Damian said confidently. “We just need to remind him that we are here and he will get better.” 

“You don’t understand. Bruce has had close calls before and I think this might push him over the edge,” Dick said. 

“You underestimate Father. He will pull through this.” 

“I hope you’re right. You better get in before Alfred starts to worry,” Dick said as he unlocked the doors.

“Come in. I’m sure if you talk to Father all of this can be sorted out,” Damian said as he got out of the car. 

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Dick said with a sad expression. 

“You have to see him eventually,” Damian said. “Avoiding him will only make things worse.” 

“I’m not going to avoid him, I’m just going to give him some space. I’ll wait until he’s ready to see me. I just hope he will.” 

“Of course he will! You are his son, Dick. He would never abandon you,” Damian said with a grief stricken face. 

“If you say so,” Dick said with a sad smile. “Now get inside before Alfred comes out to yell at me.” 

Damian began to close the door before stopping to say “Take care of yourself. Please don’t stay away for too long.” 

Dick watched him walk inside before turning the car back on. As he was about to reverse, he saw the curtains to Bruce’s room close. Had he been watching him? Dick didn’t know what to think of that so he chose to ignore it and leave. He could only hope his father would be okay without him for a while. 

Chapter Text

It had been three days since Bruce had left his room. No amount of prodding from Alfred could get him to leave. Damian could feel his anxiety crawling up his throat. He had watched as Alfred returned time after time with unfinished meals. Whenever he dared to try and enter the room, Alfred would appear and usher him away, telling him that his father was not to be disturbed. Damian was at his wits end, preparing to forcefully break down the door just to make sure his father was still breathing. 

He had seen his father during dark times before, but nothing compared to this. In the past, when Bruce was feeling down, he would isolate himself to either his room or the Batcave. The main difference was that he always allowed his children to check in on him, even if just for a moment. It didn’t matter if the only response they got out of him was a grunt, at least that was proof he was still breathing. But now, faced with the fact that his father was refusing to see anyone besides Alfred, Damian began to fear the worst. 

He had spent the last few days moving around the manor like a ghost. Without his father around, Damian felt just how big the empty halls were. He took his meals in silence, the dining room table surrounded with empty seats that should have been filled with his family. It wasn’t that he was entirely alone, he still went on patrol with Red Robin. But as they roamed the streets of Gotham, the void of the Batman was ever present. 

Tim had stopped by the manor a few times, in an attempt to check on Bruce. Each time he was turned away by Alfred. Even Jason had stopped by reluctantly to see how he was doing, also to be ushered out the door. Dick was the only one who did not turn up. He called every evening, anxiety heavy in his voice. Damian had tried to convince him to stop by, thinking maybe Dick’s presence would be enough to get through to his father. But Dick declined every time, stating that he was “too busy.” Damian knew that was a lie, knowing that Dick was too ashamed to confront their father. 

Damian stood in the Batcave preparing for patrol, waiting for Tim to pick him up. Despite his desire to stay home and watch his father, Damian knew that they couldn’t abandon their duty to Gotham in Batman’s absence. 

Hearing footsteps approach, Damian turned around expecting to see Tim, only to be met with Jason dragging a very reluctant Dick in by the arm. 

“Stop struggling!” Jason demanded, pulling Dick with more force than necessary. 

“I wouldn’t have to struggle if you would just loosen your grip! I’m already here, there’s no point in man handling me anymore!” Dick stated as he eventually released himself from Jason’s grip. 

“What are you doing here?” Damian asked, confused. “Where is Drake?” 

“He’s on his way, calm down,” Jason said. 

“I am perfectly calm. That still doesn’t explain either of your presences,” Damian said with a flat glare. 

“We’re hosting a family intervention,” Tim said as he entered. 

“What?” Damian said, caught off guard. 

“Since B refuses to see any of us or even talk about what happened, I decided that enough was enough. He needs some tough love,” Tim said. 

Jason gave him a look. 

“Ok fine, WE decided,” Tim relented. 

Dick said nothing, fidgeting with his hands. 

“What are you suggesting we do?” Damian asked, skeptical. 

“First we’re gonna need to get past Alfred. Man is like a hawk,” Jason said. 

“Then what? We break down the door and demand Father get back to patrol?” Damian questioned them. 

Silence followed.

“You’re kidding, right? That’s the best idea any of you could come up with?” 

“If you’ve got something better, feel free to speak up,” Tim said. 

“I have a bright idea, how about Grayson actually speaks to Father instead of avoiding him?” Damian said in an unamused tone. 

“I honestly don’t think that will fix anything,” Dick said as he tried to slip away. “I’ll get out of your hair. Let me know if you guys need anything!” 

Jason stopped Dick by grabbing him by the collar as he tried to run past. 

“Running away isn’t going to fix anything,” Jason said with a glare. 

“Me being here isn’t going to make it better!” Dick shouted in exhaustion.  

“Of course your presence is needed here,” Damian stated. 

“We’re gonna need you if we have any hope of breaking through to B,” Tim said with a small smile. 

“He can’t see me. I’m only going to make it worse!” Dick gritted out through panicked breaths "This is all my fault. I - I can’t be here.” 

Dick swayed on his feet only to be steadied by Tim’s firm hands on his shoulders. Gently, he guided him to sit down. 

“Breath Dick, You’re going to give yourself a panic attack. Match my breathing,” Tim said as he puffed out his chest in an exaggerated way. 

Dick did his best to copy the motions, eventually feeling like his lungs were cooperating with his head. 

“Have you been sleeping? Eating? Taking care of yourself?” Tim asked, suddenly worried as he took in his brother’s appearance. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his hair was unkept. 

“I’m dealing,” Dick muttered as he swatted Tim’s hand away from his face. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Tim said with a pointed look. 

“What do you want me to say? I told Bruce that I wished he was dead while under the influence of magic! It doesn’t matter if I talk to him or not, he’s going to hate me!” Dick wailed as tears began to form in his eyes. 

“B could never hate you. Lord knows I probably said worse to him when I first came back,” Jason said, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s different and you know it. B, he hasn’t been the same since you died. You weren’t there," Dick said bitterly. 

“Oh, well sorry for being, I don’t know, dead! Sorry I don’t know because no one will talk about it!” Jason screamed, clearly exacerbated. 

“What are you talking about, Grayson? Did something happen to Father?” Damian inquired. 

“None of that matters right now. What we need to focus on is how to help Bruce now,” Tim stated, trying to redirect the conversation. 

“Something obviously happened! Why do you refuse to talk about it?” Damian questioned. 

“Because it won’t change anything!” Tim yelled, catching them all off guard. “None of you were here. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“What is he talking about, Dickwing?” Jason said, turning to Dick. “As the only other former Robin around at the time, what the fuck is the replacement talking about?” 

Dick turned his head to the side and murmured something. 

“What?”

“I said, I wasn’t here! I don’t know the specifics, just that Bruce was in a really dark place. We weren’t really talking at the time,” Dick admitted. 

“Care to shine some light, Drake?” Damian said to Tim, clearly expecting an explanation. 

“I refuse to talk about this right now, especially with all of you,” Tim said. “Focus, we need a plan for right now. The past can be dealt with later.” 

Breaking into Bruce’s room was surprisingly easier than they had expected. Alfred didn’t immediately appear out of thin air to stop them so they took that as a sign to continue forward. Making their way down the hall, they heard a loud shattering sound. Without missing a beat, the brothers sprinted until they reached Bruce’s door. Jason hesitated in front of the door, hand hovering above the handle. Looking beside him, he saw that Dick and Damian were in similar positions of paralysis, clearly all fearful of what they might find on the other side of the door. 

Sighing to himself, Tim pushed past his brothers and made his way inside, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

They continued to stand in place, fearful of what the next moment might hold. A shout from inside the room shook them out of their trances and shocked them into action. 

Wasting no time, the brothers rushed into the room. Upon entering, they found that the room had been trashed. Sheets askew, pictures broken, a hole in the wall shaped like a fist. If they didn’t know better, they would have thought someone had broken in. Looking around the room, there was no sign of Bruce or Tim. Hearing what sounded like a struggle, their attention turned to the ensuite bathroom. 

"Bruce! Let go!"

"Stop!"

"You can't do this to me again!"

"I'm doing you a favor!"

Upon entering the room, the trio were met with a horrific sight. Blood was splattered across the floor and walls, the mirror was shattered by what looked like a punch. Droplets of red ran down the fractured glass. A huge fragment was missing from the intricate puzzle pieces. 

Turning their gazes, they found the missing piece. Tim was gripping Bruce’s arm trying to reach his hand that contained the glass. Blood coated his knuckles and his palm was cut open from how tightly he gripped it. A fresh long cut was visible on Bruce’s other arm. 

Horror dawned over the brothers as they took in the reality of the situation in front of them. Instincts kicked in and they quickly restrained their father to allow Tim to remove the glass from his hand. 

Bruce struggled against their arms, screaming in frustration. None of them seemed to know what to do. Their father, ward, mentor, whatever you wanted to call him, was breaking down in their arms. He attempted to lunge for the sharp item in Tim’s hands. 

Dick looked at his brother for help, only to be met with a ghostly expression. Tim didn’t move from his position, staring at his hands covered in his father’s blood. Reality seemed to dawn on him and he dropped the glass shard abruptly, an grief stricken look settling on his face. 

Feeling the loosening of his restraints, Bruce made a sudden leap to grab the offensive object. 

“Stop it old man!” Jason shouted, “You’ve already done enough damage!” 

“Father, please! Stop struggling and let us help you,” Damian screamed, emotion clear in his voice. 

Deeming that his brother’s had his father under control, Dick grabbed the blade and put it on the counter. He brought himself down to Tim’s collapsed position against the wall, meeting his eyes. All he saw was grief and pain, a gut feeling told him that this was connected to their earlier conversation. 

Dick grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled him into the standing position. He brought him to the sink and gently washed his hands. Bruce had slumped against Damian and Jason, clearly losing his will to fight. Slowly, they all made their way out of the bathroom. Jason sat Bruce on the bed and grabbed a med kit from the closet. He made quick work of cleaning, stitching and dressing Bruce's injuries.  

Bruce said nothing, simply staring at the wall ahead. 

“Father?” Damian tried to get his attention. 

Bruce continued to look at nothing, attention clearly elsewhere. 

Dick guided Bruce to lay down in bed. Carefully, he crawled into bed and took his father in his arms, holding him close. Bruce continued to have no reaction, body still in a state of shock. 

Slowly, his sons made their way into the bed. Bruce was surrounded on all sides, protected. 

The minutes seemed to trickle by, the ticking from the clock being the only indication that time was moving. Ever so slowly, Tim watched as his father’s eyes returned to lucidity. 

Making eye contact with Tim, Bruce said weakly, “I wasn’t going to kill myself.” 

“I’m glad,” Tim said with a sad smile as he stroked his father’s hair. 

“I wasn’t going to kill myself,” Bruce said again with some urgency. 

“It’s okay,” Dick said. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just rest.” 

Dick guided Bruce back into their cuddle pile, securing his father within his grasp. 

“I wasn’t going to. Not again,” Bruce said, almost to himself as his eyes grew heavy, drifting away. 

None of his sons risked moving, in fear of waking him. 

Sleep didn’t come easy for any of them, fearful of what falling asleep might mean for Bruce. 

“This isn’t working,” Jason said as he sat up. “I’ll keep watch for now. I’ll wake someone up in a few hours for the next shift.” 

Tim caught his arm as he started to get out of the bed. “Wait, I’ll do it.” 

Not waiting for a response, Tim got up and sat in the arm chair next to the bed. 

“Tim, it’s okay. One of us can take the first watch. You should get some sleep while you can,” Dick said gently. 

“It’s fine. I won’t be able to sleep anyways,” Tim said as he settled into his chair. Finding a comfortable position, Tim seemed to settle into a spot that he had sat in many times before. The way his eyes stared at Bruce, as if expecting him to self-destruct at any moment, told Dick this wasn’t the first time he was in this position. Dick felt nauseous. What exactly had he missed after Jason died? The way that Tim had rushed in with no hesitation earlier, his insistence on helping Bruce immediately, all the way down to how he reclined in the chair made Dick realize that Bruce was probably in a worse position than he originally thought. 

“Wake me up in a few hours,” Dick told Tim as he held eye contact. “Or if you need anything, I’m here.” 

“I will,” Tim said with a sad smile. 

With that, Dick did his best to fall asleep, listening to his father’s steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep. 

Chapter Text

4:03 AM

That’s what the clock next to his bed read. 

He didn’t know how long he had been awake, just that he desperately wanted to separate himself from his sons. 

His limbs were cramping from the odd positioning. He could feel someone laying against his back and made out a few lumps on the other side of the bed. Feeling so trapped, he struggled to keep his breathing under control. 

Being in such close proximity to his children made him all too aware of the events that transpired the night prior. He couldn’t think about it. If he did, he might spiral even further. Bruce had been going out of his mind since his conversation with Dick. His oldest’s words dug straight into his heart, tearing it wide open showing all his insecurities. 

He hated himself

He had for as long as he could remember. Even before his parents died, he didn’t like himself. His mother’s warm smile and his father’s hugs kept him steady and reminded him he was loved. After their deaths, a cold cloak of emptiness wrapped itself across his shoulders. That first night alone was the first time he thought of dying, if only for a way to reunite with his family. 

It got worse as he got older. He was eternally grateful that Alfred didn’t send him to Arkham during some of his worst episodes in his youth. There had been a few too many close calls for Alfred’s liking. 

As Batman, he was reckless but he had a purpose. That alone was enough to keep him going. Still, he thought about his death. Was he really helping Gotham? It seemed like crazed villains began to pop up more as he built the mantle. He could tell himself that he was doing good, but the thought that he was harming the one thing he swore to protect lingered in his head. 

As Batman, he spent a lot of time in dangerous situations. He would fight tooth and nail to protect the innocent, even as his body became littered with scars. He often found himself on rooftops peering down at the streets below. Sometimes he found himself standing a little too close to the edge, staring at a dark void below. He felt like it was pulling him forward, like a siren's song. 

Just as he was beginning to say goodbye to his city, he met a stray bird. Dick coming into his life was like a beacon. He had someone to fight for, someone to love. After Dick came Jason, then Tim, then Damian. Throughout the years, he found himself in dark times, but he was able to push through his intrusive thoughts for his sons, especially Tim. He had seen him at his worst. 

After Jason died, he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore. He faced challenges head on, no longer pulling his punches. Every evening he would come home covered in blood, he wasn’t able to tell his blood from his victims. Alfred pleaded with him to rest, but he pushed forward, not caring about his own health. Eventually Tim appeared, a life jacket thrown at his drowning form. He still wasn’t okay, traumatizing Tim in ways he didn’t want to remember. But he had something to care for again. With time, his birds returned to their nest. 

His relationship with his sons still wasn’t the best. Him and Dick could be at each other's throats, but they would eventually find common ground. It took time to rebuild their relationship, but they had come a long way. That’s why Dick’s words cut Bruce so deeply. Bruce had thought they had moved past most of their problems but Dick was able to tear him down, word by word. He tried to remind himself of his good relationship with his other sons; Jason and him had come to an understanding, being able to put aside their differing values, focusing on their love for each other to heal their bond. Damian was beginning to open up, softly expressing his emotions when he felt like it. And Tim…Bruce didn’t want to think too hard about their past. They were able to form a healthy relationship, Bruce accepting Tim as one of his own and Tim accepting the love offered to him. 

All that said, Bruce needed to get away. He needed a moment to himself to spiral. There were too many emotions when it came to his family and he was barely able to keep himself from imploding. 

Carefully, Bruce crept out of the bed, making sure not to wake his children. He made his way to the bathroom, praying for solace behind the door. Feeling desperate, he forgot to close the door behind him. In the darkness, he searched along the counter top with his hands. His heart began to race as he realized the object he was looking for was not there. . 

With a sudden slam, Bruce was assaulted by light. He stumbled until he fell against the wall. Squinting his eyes, he saw Tim in the doorway, hand on the bathroom door handle pulling it shut. 

“What are you looking for?” Tim asked, emotionless. 

“What?” Bruce asked, still dazed by the sudden light. 

“Don’t play dumb with me Bruce. We both know why you are in here,” Tim stated as his eyes leveled with Bruce.

Bruce was left speechless, not sure how to respond; he didn’t know what to say.  Looking Tim in the eyes, Bruce knew he was caught. 

“You can look all you want, but you won’t find anything to hurt yourself with,” Tim said. “I already sorted through everything so don’t even think of looking.” 

“I just wanted some water,” Bruce said through gritted teeth. The lie laid heavy in his tongue. 

“Don’t do that,” Tim said with an eye roll. 

“Do what?” Bruce responded, hoping his voice didn’t waver. 

“Lie to my face. We’ve been here before plenty of times B. I know when you’re lying. I know when you want to self-destruct. I know when you fake being okay,” Tim said with a sad smile. “It’s okay, come back to bed and we’ll deal with this in the morning.” 

Bruce glanced at Tim’s extended hand and froze. He didn’t want to go back to bed, his nerves were on fire at the mere thought. 

Tim seemed to notice his hesitation. Bruce watched as Tim observed him silently, clearly not offended by Bruce not taking his hand. 

Leveling himself with Bruce, Tim placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Why don’t we have a cup of tea?”

“What?” Bruce asked, caught off guard. 

“We’ll go down to the kitchen and have a cup of tea. Afterwards, we can go to the cave and catch up on cases. How does that sound?” Tim suggested, an understanding smile spread across his face. 

“I don’t want to wake Alfred,” Bruce said as he turned his head to the side, no longer able to look Tim in the eyes. 

“I’m sure we can make a cup of tea without burning the house down,” Tim joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll be extra sneaky so we don’t wake up Alfred.” 

Bruce stared at Tim until finally he felt the fight leave him. 

“Okay,” Bruce whispered. “As long as it’s just us. I don’t want to wake your brothers this early.” 

Tim was able to see through Bruce and understood that he wasn’t ready to face the others. He nodded his head and offered his hand again to Bruce. This time he gripped it firmly, allowing himself to be guided out of the room and down to the kitchen. He sat silently at the table while Tim hummed to himself while attempting to make tea. 

Tim filled the silent room with his soft hums, giving Bruce something to focus on. He didn’t know how to describe what he was feeling, but he wanted it to be over. He didn’t want to deal with the consequences of last night. Bruce felt himself being pulled down with the weight of everything, Dick’s words ringing in his ears. He began to scratch at his wrist, the pain pulling him back to the present. 

He didn’t notice that Tim had stopped humming until he felt a firm hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. A slight moment of panic ran through him, realizing that the pain had stopped. 

“Bruce,” a firm voice called out. “Look at me.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to look up, choosing to instead struggle against the restraint on his wrist, hoping that the hand would release and he could get some solace from his nails. His wrist burned but it wasn’t enough. His thoughts were still spiraling and he was beginning to panic.

“B, please, look at me,” a sad voice stated, calling out to him. “You’re okay. Focus on my breathing.” 

Bruce couldn’t follow, his breaths coming out in panicked pants. He struggled harder against Tim, not being able to free his wrist. 

“Bruce, please,” Tim said desperately. “It’s okay. Everything is fine. Please, you have to calm down.” 

Tim placed Bruce’s vacant hand over his heart and made exaggerated inhales. Bruce slowly began to follow his movements. They sat together, breathing slowly until the timer went off. Bruce startled, breath beginning to pick up again. 

“It’s okay, B,” Tim said, running a hand through his father’s hair. “It’s just the timer for the tea, nothing to be concerned about.” 

Tim watched his father figure attempt to calm down before he deemed him okay enough to get their cups ready. 

Tim approached Bruce holding two steaming cups. 

“It’s probably not as good as Alfred or Damian could make, but I hope it’s at least tolerable,” Tim said with a joking expression. 

Bruce tentatively accepted the cup but remained still. He watched as Tim set his own cup down and made his way toward the medicine cabinet, pulling out antiseptic and bandages. Bruce was confused as to why Tim pulled these items until grabbed his arm and began to clean it. He hadn’t realized he had scratched himself to the point of bleeding, but Tim made sure to disinfect the wound and wrap it. Matching wraps dressed both his forearms. 

“Come on, let’s go look at the cases,” Tim said as he grabbed his cup and motioned for Bruce to stand. 

In the cave, Tim sat at the Batcomputer with Bruce sitting at his side. The cup of tea grew cold in Bruce’s hands. Tim seemed to notice Bruce’s lack of attention and pulled the cup out of his hands, setting it to the side. He continued to analyze each criminal profile that pulled up, offering his thoughts on the matter. Bruce paid him no mind, mind going hazy as he tried to pay attention. 

“You know he didn’t mean it, right?” Tim said out of nowhere, gaze still fixated on the screen. 

“What?” Bruce responded, pulled out of his thoughts. 

“Dick,” Tim said, like that explained everything. “He was hit by a spell, he doesn’t actually believe the things he told you.” 

“I see,” Bruce said as he avoided eye contact. 

“You don’t seem too surprised,” said Tim. 

“Dick didn’t seem in his right mind that night, it’s only logical that he wasn’t in control of his actions,” Bruce said with a frown. 

“If you knew that, then how do you explain this?” Tim asked. 

“Explain what?” Bruce said, as he tried to avoid the topic. 

“This!” Tim shouted, as he motioned around them with his hands.

“You’ve been isolating yourself to your room for days. And when we finally are able to check in on you, I find you fucking self harming!” Tim said as he hit his hand against the desk. “You are going to kill yourself and you still won’t have ever talked about what’s actually wrong!” 

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Bruce whispered. 

“Are you sure? Because I've seen these signs before and you are currently a fluorescent warning sign.” 

“Tim, can we please not talk about this now?” Bruce said, trying to change the subject. 

“Promise me something,” Tim said after a moment of silence. 

“What?” 

“Promise not to kill yourself. I understand if you start having dark thoughts or feel like hurting yourself, but you need to tell someone, tell ME. I can’t lose you again, once was enough,” Tim said with tears in his eyes. 

Bruce felt his heart break at the sight of his son crying. He did this, he caused this pain. He needed to reassure Tim that he would be fine when every molecule of his being was telling him to get out of his life to avoid any further pain. He knew logically that he needed to stick around, but his son crying because of him was almost enough to send him over the edge. He heard Tim’s pleas, fighting against himself to answer him in a positive light. 

“I promise,” Bruce said through grunts, his displeasure obvious. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. This is what I’m here for,” Tim tried to joke. Neither of them wanted to bring up the reality of that statement. If Tim hadn’t come into Bruce’s life when he did, Batman would no longer be. 

“What are your thoughts on this case?” Bruce asked, trying to bring Tim’s attention elsewhere. 

“Well,” Tim said before he went off on a tangent. Bruce wasn’t sure if Tim was just really into the case, but he was pretty sure Tim filled the silence to ease Bruce’s mind. 

Dick woke up with a silent scream. He lunged himself into the sitting position as he tried to calm his breaths. 

Everything was fine

His father was still alive and breathing, his nightmares held no grounds. 

To ease his worries, Dick glanced at the sleeping forms of his family hoping to see his father’s slumbering face. Realizing that Bruce was not there, Dick shot out of bed. He turned to the side of the bed and saw that Tim was not in his chair. Glancing at the clock, it read 6:47 AM. Tim should have woken someone up for the next shift around 3 AM. Dick began to shake his brothers awake in his panic, unsure of what had transpired while he slept. 

“Fuck off,” Jason said as he pushed his face into a pillow. 

“Get up,” Dick said as he aggressively shook Jason. 

“Fuck, what do you want Dickwad?” Jason said as he glared at Dick’s standing form. 

“Did Tim wake you up?” Dick asked, panic lasing his voice. 

“No, the replacement said he’d wake me up in a few hours, leave me alone,” Jason said as he turned on his side. 

“Go back to sleep Grayson,” Damian said through sleep slurred words. 

“I would if I knew where Bruce was!” Dick screamed, waking up his brothers instantly. 

“What?” Jason said, as he turned to the side to survey the bed. “Where the fuck is he?!”

“I fear Drake is missing as well,” Damian said. 

“It’s almost 7 fucking AM! The brat didn’t wake me up like he promised,” Jason growled. 

“Big picture here Jay, both Bruce and Tim are missing. Based on the fact that we were all asleep, I’m assuming Bruce got up on his own and Tim might have followed. Let’s go check just to make sure everything’s okay,” Dick said, trying to calm his brothers down. 

“Let’s fucking go then,” Jason said as he pushed past Dick. 

“Bruce?” Dick called out as they entered the main floor. 

“He’s not fucking here,” Jason said. 

“He could be in the cave,” Damian suggested. 

Upon entering the cave, the brothers saw their father’s head resting on Tim’s shoulder. The height difference between the two made the angle awkward. Hearing the approaching footsteps, Tim turned to the side to look at them and made a shushing gesture before looking at Bruce. Getting closer, they were able to see that Bruce was dead asleep. 

“What happened?” Dick whispered. “We woke up and neither of you were there.” 

“Yeah, what happened to waking us up?” Jason scream whispered. “It’s 7 in the fucking morning.” 

“As you can see,” Tim said as he gestured to Bruce, “there were some complications which prevented that from happening.” 

“Is Father okay?” Damian asked, taking notice of the new dressing on his father’s wrist. 

Dick followed his brother’s gaze down to Bruce’s arms, seeing the new bandaged wound caused him to be flooded with anxiety. 

“Drake, tell me how father acquired that,” Damian said with a tut, trying to put up a strong front. But from the way his voice had wavered, you could tell he was feeling overwhelmed. 

Sighing, Tim turned to face them as best he could. “There was a slight accident. He scratched his skin raw. It’s nothing too severe, we’ll just have to keep a better eye on him.” 

“So we now need to hide every fucking sharp item in this house? Which could take days seeing as the demon brat owns like a hundred swords. That’s fucking rediculous,” Jason said, clearly in disbelief. 

“Yes. I already removed any items from his room and hid most of the things in the kitchen. Damian, please take proper care of getting your weapons out of sight,” Tim said before turning to look at Jason. “That goes for everyone, especially your guns Jason.” 

“What, you think ‘Mr. I Hate Guns’ will make a grab for them?” Jason said, clearly amused at the thought. “Doesn’t fit his usual MO.” 

“He will,” Tim said with certainty in his voice. 

“Tim,” Dick said as he placed a hand on his free shoulder. “I - “

Cutting off Dick, Tim said “We will need to keep a constant watch on him, making sure he’s eating and sleeping. He’ll try to get out of it so we can’t let him. Someone will need to sit in the room if he goes to the bathroom to make sure he doesn’t try anything. Basically he’s on house arrest until this passes.” 

“That sounds a lot more intensive than house arrest,” Dick muttered. 

“You’re right, I guess it would be better to call it what it is, suicide watch,” Tim said as he sipped a cold coffee. 

“What could he possibly manage to do in the bathroom, that sounds like overkill to me,” said Jason. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he would smash the mirror and use the glass to try and slit his fucking wrist!” Tim yelled, voice breaking at the end. 

No one said anything at that. Tim seemed to realize how loud he was and looked to make sure Bruce was sleeping. If that wasn’t enough to wake him up, he probably hadn’t been sleeping well the past few days. Thankfully, Bruce’s eyes remained shut. 

“Tim,” Dick finally said, breaking the silence. “You’ve had to do this before, haven’t you.” 

“I’m not talking about this,” Tim said as he turned his gaze back to the Batcomputer. 

“It’s kinda fucking obvious at this point replacement. Now spill,” Jason said. 

“Nope,” Tim said, leaving no room for argument. 

“Drake, I insist you speak of this. We need to know these things if we are to help Father,” Damian said. 

“It doesn’t fucking matter. Drop it,” Tim said, irritation clear in his voice. 

“I’m just gonna assume that B has tried to off himself and you found him. You came up with this plan and it worked last time, so it has to work this time,” Jason said unseriously. “I’m right, aren’t I?” 

“Which time?” Tim said, catching his brother off guard. 

“What?” Jason asked, shocked by his answer. 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific. Was it the time that he tried to fling himself off a building? Or maybe the time I found him with a gun in his mouth. Oh! Are you talking about the time he had to get his stomach pumped after overdosing? Take your pick, I can keep going if you’d like,” Tim said with bitterness in his voice. 

Dick began to cry as Tim listed off his father’s previous attempts. Where was he when all this was happening? Did Tim have to deal with this alone? Without any support? It would have had to happen years ago, because if it was recent, surely he would have been there. Him and Bruce had been in a goodish place for a while now. If something happened, someone would have informed him. 

“How many times did you have to save him?” Dick asked, not wanting to know the answer. 

“Lost count when it reached the double digits,” Tim said, no longer caring about sparing his brother’s from the pain. They had pushed him to this point. So if they wanted to know, he was gonna fucking tell them and not sugar coat anything.

He wasn’t provided that luxury when he had to take care of Bruce. Alfred of course helped where he could, but Tim remained by his side throughout everything. At first it was because Gotham needed the Batman, and if Bruce wasn’t around who knew what would happen to the city. Then he started to care for the man behind the mask. They were both lonely and found solace in one another. 

Before anyone could respond to Tim, a voice called out behind them. 

“Breakfast is ready, if you all will join me in the dining room,” Alfred said, clearly not surprised to find Bruce with his sons. 

“Thank you Alfred,” Tim said. He gently shook Bruce’s shoulders, “B, it’s time for breakfast. Get up, you can sleep more later.” 

“Not hungry,” Bruce said groggily. 

“Not accepting that answer, you need to eat. Now, you’re going to get up and try to eat something,” Tim instructed, clearly not in the mood to argue. 

Bruce opened his eyes and glared at Tim. “I’ll eat later. I want to sleep.” 

“I’m afraid I have to insist you eat something Master Bruce,” said Alfred. “You have not eaten in almost two days. You must eat in order to get the nutrients you desperately need.” 

“I don’t want to,” Bruce said with a crinkled brow. “I’m not hungry.” 

“That’s the depression talking big guy,” Tim said as he pulled Bruce into the standing position. 

Very slowly, Bruce made his way out of the Batcave with Tim following behind. He didn’t even seem to notice the presence of his other sons, leaving them alone with Alfred. 

“He hasn’t been eating?” Dick asked in a small voice. 

“I’m afraid this is just how he is when he has one of his episodes,” Alfred said. 

“Is he like this often?” 

“I’ve noticed Father going without food for periods of time before. It’s not uncommon for him to not join me at the table for meals,” Damian said. 

“He’s been this way since he was a boy. He tried his best to hide depression from you all but I’m afraid we’re past that,” said Alfred. 

“Tim said,” Jason tried to speak but his voice was caught in his throat. “He said that B has tried to die before.” 

“That is correct,” Alfred said with a small frown. “If Master Tim didn’t show up in our lives when he did, I don’t think Master Bruce would have made it.” 

Jason felt his heart break. His relationship with Bruce was horrible after he came back, but now they were on better terms. He knew Bruce was in a dark place after his death, but he didn’t realize the severity of it. 

“This conversation can be continued later. I would like to make sure your father is actually eating,” Alfred said as he made his way out of the Batcave. 

Dick, Jason and Damian followed behind him in silence. Entering the kitchen they saw Tim desperately pleading with Bruce to eat. His plate was untouched and he stared into space. 

“Please Bruce, you need to eat. Even if it’s just a little,” Tim said as he held a fork up to his father’s lips. 

Bruce did nothing but stare at the fork with disdain. He turned his head to the side like a child. 

“Oh fuck this,” Jason said disappearing from the room. 

He returned a moment later and slammed a protein shake in front of his father. 

“Drink this,” Jason said sternly. 

Bruce looked up at him and Jason could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Jesus B, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. If you can’t eat, then drink this. You have to have something. None of us are leaving here until you do.” 

Bruce’s shoulders tensed as he picked up the drink and took off the cap. He couldn’t contain his tears as he took a sip. The liquid was heavy on his tongue, tasting like nothing. He managed a few sips before he couldn’t take it anymore. He placed the drink back on the table and took a few calming breaths. 

He didn’t want to drink it. He didn’t want to eat anything. It wasn’t just the fact that he had no appetite, the thought of ingesting anything made him want to vomit. He wasn’t allowed to consume nutrients, he didn’t deserve to. Every day he struggled with his brain to force himself to eat. Most of the time, he was able to pretend everything was fine when dining with his family. He smiled at their jokes and ate normal portions. But deep down, he was filled with self hatred. 

He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t finish the drink. Even the idea of consuming more made him panic. His breathing was beginning to pick up and he moved to scratch at his wrist without thinking. 

“Dad, it’s okay,” Dick said as he grabbed Bruce’s wrist. “You don’t have to finish it. But please, try to drink a little more.” 

Resigning himself, Bruce picked up the shake and drank about half of it. 

“I can’t,” Bruce said as he ripped the drink away from his face. He almost consumed too much. 

“That’s okay, you did good,” Tim said as he reassured him. “Let’s head towards bed. Lord knows you didn’t sleep enough last night.” 

Bruce let himself be guided up the stairs by his son, before turning around to face the rest of his family. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before turning the corner. 

Silence fell over the room. Dick, Jason and Damian made their way to their seats and ate their breakfast without speaking. Each of them were worried about their father, not knowing how to handle everything. Tim had experience with this, but for them it was a fresh wound. They had never seen Bruce this down before. It scared them. 

Damian was the first to finish his food. He stood up and announced he was going upstairs to check on his father. 

“He’ll be okay,” Dick said to Jason as soon as Damian was out of the room. 

“This is all my fault,” Jason said with his head in his hands. “If I didn’t die, he wouldn’t have been in such a dark space. Tim wouldn’t have had to play fucking caretaker as a child.” 

“Like you had any control over your death. Stop being stupid little wing,” Dick said as he hit Jason in the back of the head lightly, as if trying to knock some sense into him. 

“I probably should not be telling you this, but I feel it is best that you know,” Alfred said as he began to clear the dishes. “Master Bruce has always had episodes like this, with a few close calls in his youth. The reason he has kept going for so long is because he had all of you. Do not blame yourselves for what you could have done differently. Your mere presence has provided him with a comfort he hasn’t had since his parents passed away.” 

“Thank you Alfred, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” said Dick. “I just don’t know what to do. This is all so new! He’s been struggling for so long and I never noticed how bad it was. I feel like I’m out of my depths here. But I can’t let Tim shoulder all the responsibility, he’s already done enough.” 

“The old man will be able to pull through this. He’s stubborn as shit. We’ll deal with this together, one day at a time,” Jason said. 

“I hope you’re right,” Dick said, not looking forward to going upstairs. 

Chapter Text

“Father?” Damian called out as he entered the room. 

Bruce was buried under his covers, snoring slightly. Damian released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His father was safe, he was breathing right in front of him. The panic Damian felt this morning when he realized his father wasn’t with him was a feeling he never wanted to repeat. He was certain his father was hurt beyond repair. When he and his brothers finally found him in the cave, he almost cried tears of relief. It was like the moment his father was out of his sight, his heart felt like it would cave in. Damian needed to make sure he didn’t leave his father’s side again, just in case he needed him. 

“He’s asleep,” Tim said without looking up from his book, seated in his chair.  

“I can see as much,” Damian responded with a sneer. He tried to remind himself that none of this was Tim’s fault. 

Damian was struggling with coming to terms with everything. It wasn’t everyday that your hero fell apart in your arms. To make matters worse, them being your mentor and father. To him, Damian’s entire world was crumbling beneath him. He felt like a failure of a son for not being able to help his father before this. Tim’s ability to help their father made him envious. Damian was Robin, he needed to be strong enough to support Batman no matter what. 

The room was awkwardly silent as Damian stood in the doorway ignored by Tim. 

Steeling himself, Damian made his way into the room and stood before Tim. 

“You sleep as well,” Damian demanded, trying his best to sound imposing. 

“I’m sorry?” Tim asked, amused, eyes finally leaving the pages. 

“Get in bed with Father and go to sleep. I’ll keep watch for now,” Damian insisted, refusing to back down. 

“I’ve got this covered. Go play with your swords or whatever it is you do,” Tim said as he gestured for Damian to leave. 

“No,” Damian said, not moving from his spot. 

Tim sighed as he set his book to the side. “Damian, this isn’t something you need to see. Let me handle this.” 

“You couldn't haven’t slept more than five hours in the past two days, judging by your dark circles. Your reaction time is slowed. How do you expect to help Father if you are too impaired to offer assistance?” Damian asked smugly, knowing he had Tim caught. 

“I’ll sleep later. I’ve survived on worse sleep before and been fine. I’m serious Damian, leave now,” Tim said as he stood and made his way to physically force Damian out of the room. 

“Tim, just come to bed,” a voice called out, starting them both. 

Bruce sat up, hair sticking straight up from how he’d been sleeping. He rubbed his eyes aggressively before glaring at his children. 

“If you are going to insist on staying in here with me, either shut up or go to sleep. I have a headache from your arguing,” Bruce said before he flopped back down on the mattress. 

Tim and Damian exchanged a look before Tim lifted the edges of the covers and crawled beneath them. Damian gave him a nod before assuming his place in the chair. Sleep overcame Tim before he had the chance to fight back. 

Damian took in his sleeping family members and focused on their rising chests. He was going to have to make sure Tim was also properly looking after himself while they were caring for their father. The family couldn’t afford for anyone to go down during this time of crisis. Damian picked up the book Tim had been reading, silently judging it, before turning to the first page. 

One week. That was all the time Dick was able to get off work. He had to make up an excuse about his father being on death’s door and having to nurse him back to life, which he guessed wasn’t too far off from the truth. Dick was pulling at his hair anxiously, pacing back and forth in the Batcave. They had decided earlier in the day that Tim, Damian and Jason would watch over Bruce and Dick would stay behind while the others went on Patrol. Only ten minutes until his shift started and Dick was dreading it. 

He hadn’t been alone with Bruce since their last mission. They hadn’t addressed the things that were said and Dick didn’t know if bringing it up would make matters worse for Bruce. He didn’t want to cause him any more pain. Selfishly, Dick never wanted to talk about it. He was too ashamed of what he said to Bruce. Dick knew that he was being manipulated by a spell, that those words weren’t really his own. Tim had explained to him that Bruce knew he didn’t mean those words. Still, that did little to calm the fear in Dick’s heart. 

Would he even be able to help? What if he made everything worse by being alone with Bruce? Would he even be able to make a difference in the one week he had here? Dick wished he had more time before his confrontation with Bruce. It was bound to be brought up. Either Bruce would bring it up or Dick himself would blurt it out without thinking. There was no getting out of this. 

As anxious he was to be in this situation, Dick wished he was able to spend more time at the manor to help. After he leaves, the responsibility will fall back to Tim. Dick knew that Jason would try to help out when he could, but there was no doubt that Tim would try to handle everything himself without Dick’s presence to keep him in check. Damian was too young to be dealing with this. Maybe Dick could make up an uncle or someone who mysteriously died and get an extra few weeks off. 

Hearing footsteps coming from the stairs, Dick stopped his pacing to see a more well rested looking Tim emerging. 

“It’s almost your turn, hope you’re ready,” Tim tried to joke. It fell flat when he took in Dick’s nervous appearance. 

He approached him and gently placed his hands on Dick’s shoulders. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, I promise. Bruce seems to be doing better today, most likely he’ll just want to lay in bed. Just bring a book or something in with you so you don’t get too bored.” 

“Has he been sleeping all day?” Dick asked, slightly worried. 

“On and off. He has moments where he kinda just stares at the wall and ignores everyone. Don’t let that get to you if it happens, that’s just how he is sometimes. Oh, but try to get him to eat or drink something if you can. You’ll probably have the best luck with one of Jason’s shakes in the fridge. I wasn’t able to get him to eat anything after breakfast.” 

“It sounds like B is doing great mentally right now,” Dick said with a sigh. “I’ll get him to eat something, I promise. You aren’t the only one who knows how to handle a stubborn Bruce.” 

“I’m glad,” Tim said with a genuine smile. It broke Dick’s heart, only imagining what Tim must be feeling with everything going on. Dick wondered if he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to be the only strong one anymore. 

“Get ready for patrol, I’ll go relieve Jason and Damian. Remember to be careful out there. Villains are starting to squirm more because of Batman’s absence,” Dick said gently. 

“Batman will be back soon enough. I’m sure of it,” Tim said before turning away. 

Dick entered Bruce’s room holding a tray containing a cup of soup, an apple, a glass of water, and an assortment of pills that Alfred had handed to him. He was instructed to watch as Bruce took them, making sure he didn’t hide any of them. The thought as to why Alfred felt the need to tell him that made his heart hurt. 

He didn’t bother knocking as he heard the voices of Jason and Damian talking about nothing in particular. It seemed like they were trying to fill the room with life, given Bruce’s motionless form on the bed. He stared out the window, watching as the sun began to set. 

“B, sit up. I’ve got your meds and some soup you need to eat,” Dick said as he placed the tray on the nightstand. 

Bruce turned his gaze to Dick and furrowed his brows, something that sounded like a grunt left his throat. He made a dramatic show of turning to his side, away from the offensive food. 

“Need some help with this Dickwad?” Jason asked, his voice playful but expression dead serious.

Dick gulped, tempted to take his brother up on his offer. Instead he shook his head. “I’ve got it from here. You guys have fun on patrol without me. I’ll comm you if I need anything,” 

Damian nodded affirmatively before turning out of the room. Jason lingered for a minute, as if he was trying to analyze Dick’s ability to care for Bruce. 

He sighed before walking out, “Just make sure he eats that. He almost passed out trying to get up earlier. Bastard needs something in his system.” 

With that, Dick was alone with a man who refused to do anything. 

Dick approached Bruce’s still form and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to eat B. Please, try to take at least a few bites.” 

“No,” Bruce whispered. 

“This is no time to be childish. I swear if you don’t eat something right now, I am driving you to the hospital myself and I’ll let them deal with it,” Dick said, exacerbated. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Bruce said as he slightly turned his head to glare at Dick. 

“Fucking try me old man,” Dick said, voice beginning to rise. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his anxiety or from frustration, probably a combination of both. “Do you even understand what seeing you like this is doing to us? You aren’t even trying right now! You will never get better if you don’t put in at least a little effort.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bruce said definitively. 

“Of course it matters! The first step towards feeling better is actually eating something. You have barely eaten anything in days. Hell, Jason said you almost passed out earlier! What else do you need to eat?” 

“I did eat,” Bruce tried to argue. 

“What? Half of a small protein shake in almost three fucking days? That’s not enough and you know it. You’re the one who taught us the importance of fueling our bodies and taking care of it. Think of the example you’re setting for Damian and Tim. You know how bad Tim’s habits already are. Do you want him to think this type of behavior is normal and okay?” Dick tried, he wasn’t sure what else he could say to convince his dad to eat something. He really didn’t want to have to tell his brothers he failed his one task. 

“Tim knows better,” was all Bruce had to say to that. 

“It’s like you don’t even care how your actions are impacting others right now. Damian is barely sleeping, Tim’s going to burn himself out soon from handling this all, even fucking Jason is beside himself with worry,” 

“What about you?” 

“What?” Dick asked, caught off guard. 

“How are you doing?” Bruce asked, eyes full of genuine worry. His whole demeanor seemed to deflate somewhat. 

“Me?” Dick asked, sounding flustered. “Oh, I’m doing fine. You know, just trying to keep everything together. Which is going fine if you ask me. No one has died and everyone is finally working together. There haven’t been any fights between Damian and Tim, and Jason seems to be enjoying being back at the manor.” 

Finally, Bruce sat up and looked his son in the eyes. “Dick, you can tell me honestly.” 

“I - “ Dick started to say but found his voice was stuck in his throat. “I - um, feel like this is all my fault.” 

Bruce frowned slightly, “Chum - “

“It’s fine, Tim told me he talked to you about it. But just in case, I want you to know that I truly didn’t mean any of those things I said. I wish I could take them back. I’m so sorry Bruce. This is all my fault.” 

“It would have been okay if you honestly thought those things Dick. I know I haven’t been the best father or mentor. You don’t have to feel sorry,” Bruce said, not being able to meet Dicks eyes. 

“Of course I am! How could you possibly be okay with me thinking those things?!” Dick screamed as he felt tears prick at his eyes. 

“It wouldn't matter either way. I’m sure you all have thought similar things before. It doesn’t bother me, I understand the type of person I am,” Bruce said. 

Dick felt his heart break even further hearing Bruce’s words. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him right now, he needed to focus on getting Bruce to eat. 

“Do you truly think so little of yourself? You honestly believe that all of us have hated you at some point?” Dick asked, trying to keep his voice from wavering. 

“I know you have, and that’s okay. I’m not angry about it. I know I’ve made mistakes that have hurt you all greatly. I am not a good man.” 

Dick felt like punching Bruce across the face out of pure frustration. 

“You are one of the best people I have ever known. You gave me a home and a family after I lost my own. I could never hate you, same goes for everyone else. We love you Bruce, and we just want you to be okay,” Dick said as he reached to grab Bruce’s hand. 

Bruce pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. He started to shake his head violently and he crawled as far away from Dick as he could. 

“You’re wrong! No one could love someone like me. I don’t deserve it,” Bruce said as he tried to steady his breathing. 

“You do. I’m not lying to you B, I promise,” Dick said softly as he tried to approach his father. “We don’t have to talk about this now but we are going to later so don’t even think about trying to get out of it.” 

Dick managed to grab Bruce’s shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug. 

“Now please, try to eat something,” Dick said as he turned to grab the soup. 

Bruce used this opportunity to attempt to knock the soup out of Dicks hands. Thanks to his reflexes, Dick managed to save the soup at the last minute before it fell to the ground. 

“Bruce! What the actual fuck? Are you serious right now? After our whole heart to heart, you’re seriously going to try and pull a move like that?!” Dick asked, feeling his anger rise to his chest. 

“Fuck this. You know what? Don’t eat the soup. Fucking starve for all I care,” Dick said as he moved to set the soup down. Turning his head, he barely picked up on the distorted smile on his father’s face. 

Bruce seemed to notice Dick’s stare and immediately schooled his face into one of neutrality. 

“Holy Fucking Shit. That’s what this is, isn’t it,” Dick said, feeling genuinely shocked. 

Bruce said nothing and averted his eyes from Dicks. 

“You’re trying to starve yourself. How did I not see this before? You don’t care about getting better, you just want to leave,” Dick whispered, exhaustion heavy in his voice. 

With his mouth shut firmly, Bruce made it a point to look down. He refused to acknowledge Dick’s words. 

“This is it? This is how you’re choosing to die? By fucking starving yourself?!” Dick said hysterically. “Oh my fucking god. I can’t do this. This is too fucking much. What was your plan? Just to keep avoiding eating until one of us finds you dead? Fucking watch you wither away without being able to do anything to help?” 

Dick began to cry in earnest. His shoulders shook dramatically, breaths coming out labored. They sat like that for what felt like forever. Bruce sat shocked, not knowing if he should comfort his son. Instead he sat frozen in place, unable to protect his world from the hurt. It was times like this he especially hated himself. 

As Dick’s cries began to soften, he heard the comforter ruffling at the other side of the bed. Looking up, he saw Bruce pick up the bowl and bring the spoon up to his lips with a shaking hand. 

Bruce stared at the bite for a minute before he shut his eyes and shoved the spoon into his mouth. He held his breath as he forced himself to swallow. Dick stood still, fearing that any sudden movements would halt his father’s actions. He watched as Bruce took bite after bite through shaky breaths. Eventually, the spoon hit the bottom of the bowl and Bruce dropped it onto the bed as if it burned him. 

Dick was about to compliment Bruce when he noticed him crying. It wasn’t the first time Dick had seen the man cry, but it wasn’t a sight he saw often. The past few days have been the exception, but even now he wasn’t sure what to do. 

He decided to pull Bruce into his arms tightly. He said nothing, just let his father cry his heart out. Dick did his best not to let his own tears fall again, but he failed spectacularly. After a moment of holding Bruce, Dick reached over to grab the pills and the water. He held them out to Bruce and hoped this happened without another fight. Surprisingly, Bruce accepted the pills. He dry swallowed them all then reached for the glass, only to take the tiniest of sips. Dick wasn’t going to fight him on that. He figured Bruce had already done enough for the moment. He would get him to drink the water later. 

Feeling drained, Dick pulled Bruce back into his arms and encouraged him to keep crying if he wanted. Bruce allowed himself to be held as he fell apart. Eventually, he wore himself out and fell asleep surrounded by warmth. 

Dick didn’t dare move. His father had been sleeping soundly in his arms for the past few hours. He could feel his arm starting to fall asleep but he refused to move it in fear of waking up Bruce. Dick knew that Bruce had been sleeping probably too much but his sleep schedule had never been an envious thing. He’d gladly take a Bruce who was sleeping twelve hours than one surviving off coffee and spite. 

The door to Bruce’s bedroom opened softly, revealing a crying Damian. It took everything in Dick to stop himself from running over to comfort the boy. Damian’s eyes searched the room frantically, first stopping on the chair next to the bed and seeing it was empty. Dick could hear his breath begin to pick up with panic. 

“Over here,” Dick said quietly, trying to bring Damian's attention to both him and their father. 

Damian’s head whipped over to see the pile on the bed and his breath hitched slightly. He quickly ran to Bruce’s bedside and grabbed one of his free hands. Damian brought two fingers to his wrist and just listened to his pulse. With each heartbeat, he began to calm down. 

Dick brought a hand to gently swipe Damian’s hair out of his face. “What happened? I thought you would be gone for another few hours.” 

“We decided to call it an early night,” Jason said, leaning against the doorway. “Get out of here and get some sleep, me and Damian have it covered from here.” 

Dick wanted to press for more information, clearly something had happened. But he chose instead to slowly untangle himself from his father’s arms and join Jason in the hallway. Damian used this opportunity to steal Dick’s spot on the bed between their father’s arms. He let out soft whimpers as he placed his head over his father’s heart, slowly closing his eyes and body finally relaxing. 

In the hall, Dick pulled Jason aside. “What happened? And don’t give me any bullshit. I’ve dealt with enough of that tonight.” 

“The demon brat had a panic attack when fighting a villain. The bastard was taunting him, asking if it was true the Bat was dead.” 

“Damn it. I was worried something like this would happen. Damian is too young to be dealing with this,” Dick sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“He’s a strong kid. He can handle this,” Jason tried to argue, though he was clearly shaken up by the events of the night. 

“He’s already been through too much for his age. Bruce is his only stable parental figure right now, we can’t let anything happen to him.” 

“We won’t, Dickwing. Now seriously, go get some sleep and maybe something to eat. You look dead on your feet. We’ve got it covered from here,” Jason said as he pushed Dick away from the door and quickly shut it behind him. 

Dick stood there for a minute, still processing that he was essentially kicked out. Finally, his feet carried him to the kitchen, wondering if there was any leftover soup. 

Tim sat at the counter, hunched over his computer. He rubbed at his eyes furiously, as if trying to push the sleep away. 

Dick cleared his throat before entering, having a feeling that approaching Tim too quickly would result in a half-hazard punch thrown his way. 

Surprised, Tim looked up and took in Dick’s appearance. “Rough night?” 

“Could say the same to you,” Dick said as he rummaged through the fridge to find the soup. He let out an excited noise when he found it. He quickly pulled it out and warmed up two bowls. Placing one of the bowls in front of Tim, Dick joined him at the counter. 

“Thanks,” Tim said as he scarfed down his portion. 

“Had a feeling you would be hungry. Have you even eaten anything today?” Dick asked, suddenly worried. He couldn’t recall seeing Tim anywhere besides Bruce’s side all day. 

“No time to,” Tim said, clearly not seeing the issue. Suddenly he sat up as if remembering something. “Did Bruce eat anything? If not, I can bring him up my soup. You might have to hold him down while I spoon feed it to him.” 

“Calm down, Little Bird. He ate his soup, the whole thing. Took his meds too without too much fuss,” Dick said reassuringly. 

Tim’s mouth hung open in shock. “He ate the whole thing? Willingly?” 

“Yep,” Dick said as he popped his lip. “Ate it all himself.” 

“How did you manage that? I’ve never been able to get him to do that,” Tim asked in detective mode. Maybe Dick had some tricks he could use next time. 

Suddenly remembering the struggle it was to get Bruce to eat, Dick sighed as he said “It wasn’t without a fight. There might have been some exchanging of heated words and a slight breakdown on my end. Best advice I can give you is to cry in front of the bastard.” 

“Are you okay?” Tim asked, concerned. 

Dick sucked in a sharp breath, not sure how much details he should share with his younger brother. 

“Not really, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. He ate, end of story. We’ll just need to make sure he eats more tomorrow.” 

“Dick, you can tell me what happened,” Tim said as he placed a reassuring hand on Dick’s arm. 

Suddenly overwhelmed, Dick felt a few stray tears fall down his cheeks. He began to aggressively wipe at his face, trying to catch all the wetness. 

“He, um - I figured out why he hasn’t been eating,” Dick said quietly, not trusting his voice. 

Tim shot him a look that said go on.

“He’s trying to starve himself. Since we took away all of his other options,” Dick said finally, not looking up at Tim as he heard him take in a sharp breath. 

Tim stood abruptly and threw his bowl against the wall. “Damn it!” 

He began to pace around the room, eyes wild as he looked for his next breakable victim. Dick jumped from his seat and steadied his brother by his shoulders. 

“Tim, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. Now we know so we can deal with it better in the future,” Dick tried to reassure him but found his voice lacked conviction. 

“It’s not okay! He fucking lied straight to my face. He promised me! He promised he wouldn’t try to kill himself again!” Tim cried. “I can’t go through this again. It was too much the first time, let alone all the times after that.” 

“Tim, if this is too much for you right now, no one will blame you for needing some space. Lord knows you’ve already done enough. Let us carry the burden now,” Dick said as he attempted to soothe his panicking sibling. 

“You don’t understand. Bruce needs me right now, I can’t just abandon him,” Tim said through tears, emotions finally breaking down the dam. 

“You won’t be abandoning him. You just need a break. Stay here, at the manor. That way, you can check on him whenever you want. No one is going to stop you from helping. But you need to take care of yourself too,” Dick said. “Do you really think Bruce would want you working yourself to the bone all in the name of helping him?” 

“That doesn’t matter. If I’m not here, something bad is going to happen. I just know it,” Tim responded. 

“This isn’t like last time. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here before but I am now. So are Jason and Damian. You aren’t alone in this anymore. Let us carry some of the burden. Let us keep you afloat too.” 

Tim began to wail as Dick pulled him into his arms. He let his brother cry on his shoulder as he guided them back to their seats. Dick had seen more emotions from his family in the past 5 hours than he had in his entire lifetime. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Helping a crying civilian was one thing. But when it came to his emotionally repressed family, this was uncharted grounds. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Dick soothed. “I promise you. We’ll get through this together. I’ll make sure everyone is okay.” 

Tim let himself be held, feeling a hand circle on his back comfortingly . He began to feel his eyes grow heavy and couldn’t fight back his utter exhaustion. Tim allowed sleep to overcome him, knowing he was safe in his big brother’s arms. Everything was going to be okay. 

Chapter Text

Dick’s week with the family was slowly coming to an end. He could tell Bruce was making progress, as slow and little as it might be. He engaged in conversation with them more freely, seemed more present, and hadn’t had a breakdown in days, all wins in Dick’s book. Bruce still had his moments. Times when he would stare at nothing, looking like he was contemplating something but his eyes betraying that he wasn’t fully present. They had to keep his injuries on his wrists and hand wrapped tightly, in fear of what he might do if they were uncovered. Bruce gave no indication that he wanted to hurt himself, but still, his family feared. 

His main issue seemed to revolve around food. Most of the time someone would have to beg him to eat, and they weren’t always successful. Sticking to an infrequent, mostly liquid diet, Bruce had begun to lose the slightest bit of weight in his face. His bones seemed sharper than usual, from his cheeks down to his collar bones. And that’s just the visible portion of him. 

After his confrontation with Bruce about his eating, Dick had been extra vigilant about watching him. Bruce, for his part, could put on the performance of a lifetime when he wanted to. These last few days in particular Bruce had been acting weird, almost like his usual self. It put Dick on edge; it almost seemed like everything was normal.

Currently, the whole family was sitting at the table. Bruce sat in his chair and almost seemed relaxed. He would throw in the occasional comment or grunt to show he was listening to the conversation and smiled softly. When he thought no one was looking he glared at his food. After being nudged by his children multiple times, he took a few small bites. It almost seemed like a normal family dinner. But Dick knew that was too good to be true. He had a feeling that this was all for show and the moment any of them let their guard down, something was going to happen. 

“Dick,” Bruce said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “I understand you will be going back to Bludhaven tomorrow, correct?” 

Dick choked on his drink, caught off guard by Bruce’s question. Between coughing fits he said “Yes, that’s the plan anyways.” 

“Good,” Bruce said as he nodded his head. “You don’t need to worry yourself anymore. I am doing better. In fact, I was planning to go on patrol tonight if any of you would like to join me.” 

Multiple heads went flying towards Bruce, all wearing similar expressions of shock. 

Tim was the first to speak, “Are you sure that’s a good idea, B? Patrol can wait until you are feeling better.” 

“I am feeling perfectly fine, thank you. I am more than okay enough to go back on patrol. Lord knows what the villains have been concocting in my absence,” Bruce said with a shake of his head. 

“That’s great to hear old man, but we’ve got it handled,” Jason said. “No need to be rushing back into it.” 

“Yes, Father. Please rest here tonight. Some more time off would be beneficial. Perhaps we can discuss this again in a few weeks,” Damian said, trying to sound authoritative. 

Bruce grit his teeth, “I am perfectly capable of handling myself and I don’t need any of you telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m the adult here. I will be making my own decisions.” 

With that, Bruce left and headed down to the cave, leaving everyone in stunned silence. 

“Well that could have gone better,” Dick said, trying to break the tension. 

“He didn’t even listen to us!” Jason yelled, exacerbated. “There is no way that he is ready to go back on patrol. He’s unstable right now. He could get himself, or someone else, hurt if he gets caught in his head again.”  

“Tt. Father is being stubborn. Perhaps we restrain him to prevent him from leaving,” Damian said. 

“There’s an idea I can get behind,” Jason said as he threw an arm over Damian's shoulder. “We just gotta talk some sense into him.” 

“This might be a good thing,” Tim said, surprising everyone. “This will be a way for him to get out of the house and have something to focus on, something to distract himself with.” 

“T-Bird might be correct, but it still worries me. We’ll just need to keep a close eye on him tonight to make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid,” Dick said. “Just a few hours, then we head back.” 

“He won’t be alone and that’s what matters. If we decide he shouldn’t be out there anymore, there is no way he can stop the four of us from dragging him back here,” Tim said to the group. 

Jason still seemed hesitant but nodded his head in defeat. Damian looked like he was going to say something but Jason pinched his arm, causing a squeak to emerge from his mouth rather than the words he intended. 

“Let’s just get this fucking over with,” Jason said as he gestured for everyone to follow him to the cave. 

“All alone again, little bird?” A villain said, taunting Damian with a sneer. “Did the mean old bat finally kick the bucket?” 

Suddenly, a looming shadow appeared behind the man. He gulped slowly before turning around, only to be face to face with the bat himself. 

Damian smirked, “You were saying?” 

The man attempted to back up but quickly found himself surrounded on all sides by Batman’s birds. Overwhelmed with fear, the man collapsed. 

“Well that was anticlimactic," Jason said. 

“Ready to head home now, Big Man?” Dick asked as he approached Bruce. 

Bruce swayed slightly on his feet and rested a hand on the nearby brick wall to balance himself. He began to rub circles on his temple with his freehand. 

“Woah there, big guy,” Dick said as he steadied Bruce. “Are you feeling light headed? Finally ready to call it a night? I’m sure Alfred could whip up some soup or something for you. You probably need to eat a little more anyways.” 

Bruce just grunted before using his grapple to climb the nearby building. 

They had been at it for hours. All of them were exhausted and ready to head home. Well, everyone besides Bruce apparently. Objectively speaking, tonight had been quiet. A few break ins here and there, an alley way robbery, helping a cat out of a tree. Dick was grateful to whatever higher power there was that nothing too crazy happened on Bruce’s first night out. 

On the roof, Bruce was face to face with none other than Superman. He hovered a few feet above him and looked down disapprovingly. 

“You’ve been MIA for days. You missed our founder’s meeting yesterday,” Clark said sternly, though his concern seeped through. 

“I’m aware,” was all Bruce said in response, swaying slightly on his feet. 

“Is there any particular reason for your absence?” Clark asked plainly, a hidden message behind those words. 

Are you injured? 

Did something happen? 

Clark took in Bruce’s appearance and frowned. His shoulders were tenser than usual and he didn’t carry himself with as much pride. If Clark listened closely, he could hear the uneven beat of Bruce’s heart and his growling stomach. The man seemed unsteady, Clark wanted so desperately to hold him still but restrained himself. 

Are you okay?  Clark wanted to ask but didn’t in fear of Bruce running away. 

Clark and Bruce had been friends for over a decade. He wasn’t a stranger to Bruce suddenly disappearing with no word. But usually, as soon as he was back in action, he would reach out to the League for updates on what he had missed. Clark had no plans to visit Gotham tonight, but as soon as he heard the Bat’s movements through the shadows, he had to see him for himself. 

“There was a family matter that I had to attend to,” was all the explanation Bruce offered. 

Clark could tell he was lying by his heart beat, which concerned him even further. He knew better than anyone the control Bruce had over it. If anyone else had been listening to it, they would have thought Bruce was telling the truth. But Clark was able to pick up on the slight disturbance in the pattern. 

“I see,” Clark said instead of addressing the issue. 

At that moment, Batman’s birds joined them on the roof top. 

“Superman?” Dick asked, surprised to see him here of all places. “What are you doing here?” 

“Just checking in on an old friend. I was worried when he missed our meeting yesterday and didn’t respond to any of our messages. But he was just telling me about the family matter he had to attend to,” Clark said. 

“Oh, that. Don’t worry, it’s all handled now,” Dick said as his own heart beat picked up speed. 

Clark could almost smell the wave of anxiety sweeping over the group. Clearly something had happened that no one was wanting to share. That’s okay, Clark would find out one way or another. He didn’t need them to tell him directly that something big occurred. Judging by the way that all the birds hovered near Bruce, it was clear it had to do with him. 

“B, would you mind stepping away from the ledge?” Tim asked, panic clear in his voice. “Just a few inches would be great.” 

Bruce looked down, as if noticing for the first time how close he was to falling off. He didn’t have any fear because he knew that Superman would catch him if he fell. A sick, twisted part of him wanted to test that theory. His head was beginning to feel foggy and black spots swarmed his vision. What if he left it up to fate?

He felt his consciousness begin to pull as his body began to feel heavy. He swayed for a moment on the edge and took a deep breath. Without thinking, Bruce let himself fall. He possibly could have moved himself so that when he felt his consciousness slipping he would have landed on the roof. But he didn’t. The building was high enough from the ground that Superman had plenty of time to save him. And if he didn’t, Bruce would get his wish. 

“Bruce!” a chorus of voices rang through the air. Bruce felt his eyes close, praying Clark wouldn’t be fast enough. 

Without missing a beat, Superman swooped him into his arms. 

“What were you thinking!?” Clark yelled as he brought him back to the roof, making sure to place him firmly in the center. 

As soon as they landed, Bruce was assaulted by every one of his sons hugging him fiercely. Bruce sat completely still, brain fuzzy as he tried to process what had just happened. One moment he was standing on the ledge then he was falling. What had he been thinking? Dying that way, in front of his children? 

Clark stood about a foot away from the group, panicked breaths coming out of his mouth in a cool haze. He almost wasn’t quick enough. Bruce had almost fallen to his death right in front of him. Clark had been so shocked to see him fall that he didn’t spring into action until he heard the heartbroken cries behind him. He saw Tim run to the edge and look like he was about to jump down himself in an effort to save Bruce. 

That broke Clark out of his trance and sprung him into action. Thankfully, he was able to get to Bruce in time. Clark was unsure if he should stay or go. He felt like he was intruding on a precious family moment. 

“Tim, you need to stop hyperventilating!” Jason’s scream pulled Clark’s attention to the group in front of him. 

Tim was indeed hyperventilating. He clutched his chest and took short, panicked breaths. 

“I can’t - I can’t do this again. He almost -” Tim said as tears began to fall. 

Dick embraced Tim fiercely and whispered into Tim’s ears. 

Clark couldn’t help but overhear what was said. 

“It’s okay, Tim. Bruce is okay now.” 

“I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t save him this time.” 

“It’s okay, Clark saved him. Bruce is going to be okay”

“We can’t leave him like this. He’s worse than we thought.” 

“We’ll talk about it when we get home. First, we need to get down from here and make sure B is alright.” 

Jason looked like he wanted to join Dick in comforting Tim. Instead, he held Bruce against himself with an unbreakable grip. Damian was at his side holding their father’s hand. Bruce was limp against them, he didn’t dare move. 

Bruce had a horrified expression as he watched Tim and Dick. He felt his own tears begin to fall as darkness clouded his eyes. He slumped fully against Jason who began to shake him in panic. 

“Bruce? Bruce! Wake up, you fucker!” Jason screamed as he began to panic. 

At that, Clark decided to step in. He lowered himself in front of Bruce and had to pry him out of Jason’s grip with some force. 

“I’m going to take him home. Will you all be okay getting back yourselves?” Clark asked, clearly wanting to leave immediately but needing to make sure the others would be okay first. 

“We took the Batmobile and we have our grapples. We’ll meet you there soon.” Dick said, nodding his head. “Make sure he eats something.” 

Clark nodded back and took off. 

On the way to the manor, Clark held Bruce tightly to his chest. He could hear his friend's heart weakly beat. It sounded much smaller than usual. Clark took pleasure in listening to his loved one’s hearts usually. Their constant beating helped keep him calm and focused, always being reassured that they were okay. The current pace of Bruce’s heart sent panic throughout Clark. He flew as quickly as he could with Bruce laying limply in his arms. Finally, Clark reached the Batcave. 

“Welcome back, young Masters,” Alfred said, with his back turned to the pair. “I’m assuming the patrol went well as you are back two hours after you agreed to be home.” 

Alfred turned around and jolted when he saw Clark holding Bruce. He quickly rushed over to assess Bruce for injuries. Finding none, he let out a sigh of relief. Then he saw his closed eyes and slumped posture. 

“What happened?” 

“Bruce took a bit of a tumble off a building, but thankfully everyone is okay,” Clark reported. 

“And the boys?” Alfred said, failing to hide his worry from his voice. 

“On their way back. We decided it would be best if I delivered Bruce back home safely as soon as possible. He passed out as soon as we landed safely. Dick said to make sure he ate something once we arrived.” 

“I shall grab one of Master Bruce’s shakes and make sure he drinks it. Thank you for letting me know. That boy will run on empty without a care.” Alfred said. “I’m assuming it was you who saved him?”

Clark simply nodded his head. 

“Thank you, my boy,” Alfred said as he lifted a hand to Clark’s cheek. “Would you be so kind as to bring him up to his room while I grab everything from the kitchen?” 

“Of course,” Clark said. “Afterwards I would like to speak to the boys, if that’s all right.”

“I’m sure you have questions. Please do be gentle, this past week has not been kind to them,” Alfred said before leaving. 

Clark gently laid Bruce down and got to work removing his armor. His hands were gentle as he undid the clasps. He got Bruce stripped down to his underlayers, long sleeves and pants with added padding. Satisfied, Clark adjusted Bruce’s position into the one he deemed most comfortable. 

Groaning slightly, Bruce opened his eyes to look at Clark. 

“Clark?” He asked, unsure if what he was seeing was real. 

“I’m here Bruce. You’re okay,” Clark said as he brushed Bruce’s bangs from his eyes. “You passed out and fell but it’s okay because I caught you. I always will.” 

Bruce still seemed dazed, unable to respond before Alfred entered the room carrying a shake and a plate of pills. 

“Thank you, Master Kent. I’ve got it from here if you would like to perhaps prepare a cup of tea for Master Bruce to have before he turns in.”

Clark got the clue that Alfred needed to be alone with Bruce for this next part. He made himself scarce and promised to return soon. 

He waited in the Cave for Bruce’s children to return. He impatiently sat as he watched the time tick away. Eventually, the four of them came stumbling in, clearly in a hurry. 

Clark gripped Tim’s shoulders as he tried to rush past. 

“Easy, easy. Take a deep breath and calm down Tim,” Clark said. 

“Where is he?!” Tim screamed, eyes frantic. 

“He’s upstairs. Alfred grabbed him a shake and is with him now. I was about to go make him a cup of tea but I wanted to speak with you all first,” Clark explained. 

“Tt, Father would never drink whatever sorry excuse for a drink you would make. I will handle making the tea, ask those imbeciles whatever you want then join me upstairs,” Damian said as he left. 

“Well,” Dick said. “Ask away. I’d love to decline but I have a feeling that isn’t an option.” 

Sighing, Clark said “I need to know what is happening with Bruce. Is he under the influence of a spell or toxin? If so, the league would be more than happy to provide assistance in creating a cure.”  

None of the boys spoke for a moment, then Tim said “It’s nothing like that. Well, technically a little but the spell didn’t hit him.” 

Dick turned to Tim with a betrayed expression. 

Tim continued regardless, “Dick was hit by a spell, said some things he didn’t mean, B went spiraling and now we're here.” 

“Tim!” Dick shouted. 

“What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” 

“Technically he’s right,” Jason said with a shit eating smile. 

“There’s more to it than that!” Dick said, clearly frustrated. 

Clark smiled at him sadly. “It’s okay, Dick. You don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t comfortable.” 

“That’s not it. It’s just that this isn’t something small like their making it. Bruce is falling apart right in front of us and none of us know what to do! We’ve tried everything we could think of and he seemed to be doing better but then he took a swan dive off a fucking building!” Dick said through labored breaths. 

“Basically, Dick told Bruce to kill himself. After that we’ve been having to keep an eye on him to make sure he’s eating and not going to, ya know, actually do anything. He seemed normal today, has for a few days in fact. But then he fell. Now you’re up to speed,” Jason said as if he was explaining the weather. 

Clark’s mouth hung open. Jason wondered if a bug would fly into it. 

“Are you guys alright?” 

Clark’s question shocked them all. Clearly, none of them expecting it. 

“We’re doing the best we can,” Dick said with a sad smile. 

“I’m going to help you,” Clark said, leaving no room for argument.  

“You don’t have to,” Tim said. 

“I do have to. Bruce is my best friend. I need to be here for him. He would do the same for me,” Clark responded. 

“You’re going to have to live up to your name, Man of Steel. You aren’t prepared for this. You’re never going to be able to look at Bruce the same,” Jason said as he pointed a finger in Clark’s face. 

“No matter how bad it is, there is nothing Bruce could do that would change my opinion of him,” Clark said as he swatted Jason’s finger away. 

“You’re going to have to keep all sharp or potentially harmful items away from him. You’re going to have to force him to eat so he doesn’t starve himself to death. You gotta be damn sure that you are going to stay by him no matter what. Because if one more bad thing happened to him, I don’t think he’d survive it,” Jason said protectively. 

Clark gulped, struggling to take in that information. It hurt him to hear it. His best friend, who he cared for deeply, was going through so much. He must be in so much pain and Clark had never seen it before. He felt like he wanted to throw up. 

Instead, he calmed his breathing and looked Jason in the eyes. “I love him too much to watch him suffer like this. Nothing he does will be able to push me away.” 

Jason sucked in a breath as he stared into Clark’s eyes. He saw no sign that he was lying. Nodding his head, Jason moved, letting Clark leave. Clark tilted his head in thanks and left the boys. 

“What the actual fuck was that?” Tim asked. 

Clark found Damian in the kitchen, staring down into the steaming cup in his hands. His brows were pinched together in an expression Clark had seen Bruce wear many times. Damian startled when he heard Clark’s footsteps approaching. 

Looking up, Damian handed the cup over to Clark and said “This cup is perfect. Don’t even think of adding anything to it.”

Clark chuckled softly, “Thought didn’t even cross my mind. I trust your ability to make a cup of tea a lot more than my own.” 

Damian nodded, then shuffled his feet nervously. 

“Is that all?” Clark asked, leaving room for Damian to speak if he wished. 

Damian paused for a moment before saying, “Father is not well. I don’t know how else to help him.” 

Sighing softly, Clark placed his free hand on Damian’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. Your father is a strong man. I’ve seen him face challenges time and time again and always come out stronger. He will pull through this. I’ll make sure he does.” 

Damian’s teary eyes met his and he sharply nodded his head before leaving the room. 

Clark took that as his cue to make the journey to Bruce’s room. He made sure to make his footsteps known as he went up the stairs, not wanting to startle Alfred or Bruce when he entered. Turning down the hall, he could hear Bruce’s soft cries and Alfred’s sweet murmurs. He tried his best to tune out their conversation but found himself unable to not listen in. 

“What am I doing Alfred?” 

“The best you can, Master Bruce.” 

“That’s not enough! I scared the children today. I’ve hurt them even more. I should be out of their lives to save them from the pain I cause.” 

“You know that is not true. I’m sure today gave the children quite the scare but they are strong boys. You raised them yourself so I have no doubt they will overcome this.” 

“I can’t keep doing this Alfred. I can’t keep hurting the people I love. I’m so tired of everything.” 

Clark had to stop listening in at that point. He found himself outside of Bruce’s door, unsure if he should enter. He must have made some kind of noise as Alfred opened the door, making the decision for him. 

Bruce looked up at him with startled eyes. There were bandages wrapping both his wrist, one wrapped tightly around his hand, and tears streaking down his face. He sat on his bed shirtless, allowing Clark to see his sharper bones. Bruce still had most of his muscle mass but it was obvious he had lost some weight. He quickly pulled the cover over himself, trying to hide his body from Clark. 

Clark’s heart began to break further at the sight of his best friend. He had to calm his breathing so his own tears didn’t fall. 

“I’m here with the tea you requested, Alfred,” Clark said as he entered the room and handed over the cup. 

“Thank you,” Alfred said as he placed it on the nightstand. “If you could watch Master Bruce for a moment, that would be lovely. I will be right back.” 

Alfred was gone before either of them had a chance to argue. Clark and Bruce stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. 

For Bruce, this was his worst nightmare. He never wanted Clark to see him like this. He wanted him to leave and never return, just so Bruce could pretend this never happened. But for Clark, leaving wasn’t an option. He promised the boys he would help, and by golly he meant it. 

Clark made the first move. He sat himself on the end of the bed, facing Bruce. He cleared his throat before speaking “How are you doing?” 

“Fantastic,” Bruce said sarcastically. His posture was stiff and his arms were crossed. 

“B, please don’t do that right now. Tonight has been enough of a fight, I don’t want to turn this into one.” 

Bruce sighed, “What is it you want? Are you here to mock me for being so weak? Here to reprimand me for missing the meeting? If this is you telling me I need to stop my hero work, that conversation can be shelved for another day, preferably never seeing as that’s not happening.” 

“Woah, woah. Nothing like that Bruce. I’m here because I care about you and tonight really scared me. I’ve never seen you like that before. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Bruce analyzed Clark’s face, taking in the sincerity in his eyes. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Clark couldn’t help but stare at his bandaged wrist. Bruce seemed to notice his gaze and quickly shoved it back under the covers.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Clark said as he inched closer. “You don’t have to hide anything. Your boys explained to me briefly what’s been going on. I’m sorry you’ve been struggling and I haven’t been here to help. But I’m here now, to help you in whichever way I can.” 

“There is no helping me,” Bruce said solemnly. “It’s never going to get better.” 

“Don’t say that,” Clark insisted. “You will, with time. These things happen sometimes, but that’s no reason to give up hope.” 

Bruce began to laugh bitterly. He leveled his gaze with Clark and said “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember and it never gets better. I just get better at pretending.” 

Clark didn’t know what to say to reassure Bruce. He had never been in this situation before. Sure, he had talked people off ledges before or caught them midfall, but he never thought he would have to deal with someone so close to him going through something like this. He wanted to turn and run, pretend this never happened so they could go back to how things were. But Clark knew that was useless. That ship had already sailed. All he could do now is stay by Bruce’s side and help him however he could. 

“I might have a better idea if you explained it to me,” Clark said softly. “You can talk to me about these things. I’m going to worry about you no matter what so I would at least like the chance to help when I can.” 

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Bruce said. 

“Really? Then how do you explain the fact that you jumped off a building out of nowhere?  In front of your entire family, no less,” Clark knew his words were harsh but sometimes that was the only way to get through to Bruce.

“That’s not what happened,” Bruce grunted. 

“How would you explain it then?” Clark said, pushing slightly. 

“I just fell.” 

“You fell?”

“Yes.” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yes.”

Clark shot Bruce a look, making it obvious he didn’t believe him. 

“I was beginning to feel lightheaded. I was going to step away but I lost my balance,” Bruce said, voice not quite steady. 

“Bruce,” Clark’s voice rang throughout the room. 

“I -” Bruce started to say, but found his voice caught in his throat. “I did it again. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Who?” Clark asked. 

“Tim,” Bruce said as he began to cry. “I promised him. I promised him I wouldn’t kill myself, but that wasn’t enough to stop me.” 

Clark sucked in a breath at Bruce’s admission. He had his suspicions but having it confirmed broke something in him. Still, he had to focus on Bruce at this moment and couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. “Tim will be fine, I’m sure of it. He’s a strong kid, learned from the best,” Clark said as he tried to lighten the mood, even if just a little. 

Bruce began to start crying harder, shoulders hunched in. “You don’t understand. He’s already seen too much, and had to save me time and time again from myself. I can’t do that to him again.” 

Clark gulped at the mention of other times. How long has Bruce been dealing with this? How long has his family had to carry the burden of keeping their father alive? 

Bruce continued, “This happened before, after Jason. If Tim weren’t there, I don’t think - no, I know - I wouldn’t have made it. It happened too many times to count. But today must have scared him more than the others. He was there the last time I tried to….tried to jump. But he stopped me before I fell and saved me.” 

That would explain why Tim was so shaken up on the roof, why he was ready to jump after Bruce. Clark felt his chest tighten at Bruce’s confession. 

Clark had nothing to say, so he pulled Bruce into his arms and let him cry. Bruce wrapped his arms around him fiercely and sobbed. Clark tried his best to ignore the way Bruce’s ribs pushed into him, how he could almost feel every bone. 

Unable to stop himself, Clark said “You aren’t eating properly. You’re skinnier.” 

Bruce’s breath hitched as Clark ran his fingers across his slimmer waist. 

“I’m eating enough,” Bruce said before turning his head to the side. 

“What does enough mean to you? We probably have different definitions seeing as you are beginning to waste away.” 

“I eat enough to survive, what more could you want?” Bruce asked, offended. He tried to push against Clark’s chest to free himself from his embrace but found he was pinned in place. 

“I want you to be healthy. I want you to be happy and not in pain,” Clark said as he brought a hand to sweep Bruce’s hair out of his eyes. “Whatever you’re doing now obviously isn’t healthy.” 

Bruce shuttered at Clark’s words. He thought back to all the nights with his family where he ate too much. He thought of how he would be hunched over the toilet trying to free himself from everything in his stomach. It was difficult to pull off with him being under constant watch, but he was able to swing it by running the shower and asking for a few minutes alone. If they knew what he was doing, nobody said anything. 

“I’m doing the best I can. Everything is just hard right now. It’s difficult to eat, to sleep, to even hold a conversation like this. Everything is so draining. Everyday feels like it should be my last.” 

“I understand this is hard right now Bruce, but you won’t see any progress unless you put in the effort,” Clark said as he rubbed circles on Bruce’s back. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Bruce said as all the fight left his body. He collapsed fully into Clark and just let himself be held. “I don’t want to live like this. I can’t keep fighting. Everyone would be better if I just left.” 

“Do you truly believe that?” Clark asked, not sure if his heart could take anymore. 

“Yes, every cell in my body is ready to leave. I know it would be painful at first, but the children would get over it soon enough. Gotham would be better off without Batman. The League will be able to manage without me dragging you down. I just can’t seem to get any alone time to finish off the job,” Bruce whispered with a thread of insanity. 

“Is that what happened here?” Clark asked as he picked up Bruce’s injured arms. 

Bruce didn’t dignify him with an answer, simply refusing to make eye contact. 

“Bruce, you gotta know that this isn’t the answer you’re looking for. No one would be better off without you. Your family needs you, Gotham needs you. Fucking hell, I need you. If you can’t fight for yourself, fight for us, for me. Let us carry the burden for now. You need to fight this.” 

“I don’t know how to keep fighting Clark. I’m so tired. I appreciate your words, truly I do. But I know you are lying to me, that everyone is. I know you all hate me, wish I was out of your lives.” Bruce stopped for a moment to put a hand over Clark’s mouth, preventing him from interrupting. “It’s okay, you can admit it. I accepted it a long time ago. You all need to let me go, then we can all be happy.” 

Clark ripped Bruce’s hand away and set his hands firmly on his shoulders and shook him slightly. “Damnit Bruce! What else do I need to say to get this through your thick skull? None of us hate you. None of us would be better off without you. Do you understand how alone I used to feel? I was an alien, never truly able to show my full self, whether that be as Superman or as Clark. You showing up in my life was like the light in the darkness. I am able to be my full self around you and not shy away from anything. You make me feel safe…you feel like home. Please don’t try to take my home away from me.” 

Clark couldn’t stop his tears this time. Bruce watched him in awe. He had seen the Man of Steel get emotional plenty of times, that was one of the reasons Bruce cared about him so deeply, but he never thought that those tears would be directed at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, realizing it was his turn to comfort Clark. “I won’t do anything right now, I promise.”

“Just right now?” Clark asked, breath hitching slightly. 

“That’s all I can promise. I don’t see a future for myself, despite what everyone tells me. I don’t know what the future will hold for me but I’ll try to be there by your side for as long as you’ll have me.” 

“I’d have you forever, if you’d let me,” Clark’s words sounded almost like a confession. 

Bruce wanted so badly to look into those blue eyes but couldn’t bring himself to as he was too overcome with emotions. 

“You don’t mean that. You’ll leave soon once you see how bad I actually am,” Bruce tried to excuse. 

“That’s not true and you know it. Nothing you could do would make me leave you. I’m going to be right here, every step of the way until we get you out of this. I promise,” Clark said as he lifted Bruce’s chin to look him in the eyes. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” 

Bruce chuckled slightly as he drooped his head against Clark’s chest. He closed his eyes and listened to his heart beat, praying that this was real. 

A knock on the door interrupted them. Tim appeared, looking hesitant.  

“Hey, Bruce,” Tim said sheepishly from the doorway. “I know you probably don’t want to see us right now but would it be okay if we stayed in here tonight?” 

Tim looked like he was about to cry. He swayed anxiously by the door, unsure if he would be allowed in. 

Bruce pulled away from Clark and motioned for Tim to join him. “Come here, Tim.” 

Tim wasted no time running into Bruce’s arms. He cried loudly, sobbing as his chest heaved. Six more eyes viewed in from the doorway. 

“You can come in too,” Bruce said, addressing the rest of his children. 

Clark moved from the bed as Bruce’s flock pounced on him. 

They sat like that for a minute in comfortable silence. 

Dick broke it by asking, “Who’s taking first watch?” 

“I will,” Clark said, causing multiple heads to whip in his direction. “You all have had a rough week. Rest while you can, I’ll take it from here.” 

Before Clark moved to the chair, he spotted the cold cup of tea. He quickly heated it up with his heat vision and shot Bruce a small smile before sitting down. 

Bruce looked overwhelmed, surrounded by his children. Still, he let himself be held and closed his eyes, praying this moment never ended. 

Chapter Text

Bruce woke up with a jolt. His breaths came out in panicked puffs, eyes frantically searching around the room for something. They landed on Clark and he felt himself relax slightly.

“Bruce?” Clark asked, swiftly moving to Bruce’s side. “Is everything okay?” 

“Fine,” Bruce panted out. 

“Your heart is racing. Did you have a nightmare?” 

“It’s nothing,” Bruce said as he tried to calm his breathing. 

He wasn’t sure if what he dreamed of could be classified as a nightmare. It was probably closer to an alternate future. Bruce dreamed that he had succeeded the night prior. He watched from beyond the grave as his family moved on. They grieved at first, but they seemed to have gotten over it quickly enough. Life progressed as normal. His family was happier without him. 

He watched as the League ran better than ever, no one seeming to miss him. Superman in particular was as bright as ever, not looking saddened in the slightest. Gotham flourished with his absence. It was every one of Bruce’s worst fears come true. He didn’t want it to be true, but he saw it with his own eyes. Everyone was fine. Better, if anything. They didn’t need him, they never did. So why was he even still trying?

Seeing Clark sitting in front of him both relieved and confused him. 

He was happy that Clark was by his side, squishing a small part of the anxiety from his dream. 

But overall, he couldn’t figure it out. Why was Clark still here? Why?

He saw in his dream how much happier Clark seemed without him, so why did he choose to stay by his side overnight? What had Bruce done to deserve such a thing? Why did he have to look at him with so much care, like he was something precious?

Bruce felt a hand tighten around his arm. He sucked in a breath as he realized he was still in bed with his children. They all appeared to be sound asleep, but Bruce wouldn’t put it past any of them to be pretending. He felt even more mixed emotions threaten to bubble over. He had to calm down. Clark was still staring at him. He needed to not lose his head in front of Clark. Again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Clark asked as he gently grabbed Bruce’s hand and squeezed reassuringly. 

“Nothing to talk about,” Bruce said as he stared ahead, not looking at Clark. He didn’t want to talk about it, and didn't know if he would be able to. How could he? Clark would just deny the reality of what he had seen. He would try to dismiss Bruce’s fears, but Bruce knew better. There wasn’t anything Clark could say right now that would change how he was feeling. 

His head was a mess, trying to pull itself from the tendrils of his dream. He wasn’t even sure that this was real. Maybe this was a sick joke, his dream was real and he wasn’t really here. This was somehow just a twisted scene to give him false hope. He was dead and none of this was real. 

He could believe that right now. He couldn’t feel his body, despite the weight from his son’s limbs laying on his own. It didn’t feel real, he didn’t feel real. Bruce could feel himself start to float, no longer caring about his present situation. None of this mattered anyways. 

“Bruce? Are you with me?” A voice called out to him. 

He could feel someone gripping his hand, pressure growing tighter. 

“Bruce,” the voice said, rather urgently. “Please look at me. Let me see those eyes.” 

He didn’t want to look. He was rather content how he was. 

Another voice rang through his ears. “Bruce? What’s happening?” 

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer. He didn’t know what was happening either. He felt like he was observing his body, being somewhere off in the distance. 

“B, focus on me,” the second voice said. Someone was staring at him very intensely. Bruce struggled to focus his eyes on the strangers. Eventually, his vision was met with a vibrant blue. He had seen that color a million times before. How could he ever forget something like that? The world began to come to him in small pieces. He recognized that he was in his room, surrounded by his family. And Clark was there, for some reason. 

“There you are,” the second voice said in relief. Bruce watched his son’s shoulders relax. “You with us, B?”

Bruce knew that Dick was talking to him but couldn’t find his voice to answer him. The edges of the world still felt fuzzy. He wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. 

“Is this real?” Bruce found himself saying, not aware of his lips moving. 

“Of course it is,” Clark said, pulling Bruce’s attention to his side. Looking around, Bruce could see more worried eyes staring at him. 

“Oh,” was all Bruce could say in fear of sounding even more insane. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that based on how he was feeling. 

“You feeling okay B?” Jason asked hesitantly as he placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I think I’m dead,” Bruce responded, not thinking about what he was saying. “None of this is real.” 

“You’re alive Bruce,” Tim said, as he placed a hand over Bruce’s beating heart. “You feel that? That’s all the proof you need.” 

Bruce, for the first time that morning, seemed to notice his pounding heart. That was weird, he barely noticed his intense heart beat before. Maybe it was another trick, something to confuse him further. 

“I should be dead,” Bruce said with no hesitation. His words didn’t matter right now. These phantoms of memories were just toying with his heart. None of this was real anyways. Still, he couldn’t help but play along. “Why did you save me?” 

Multiple sharp intakes happened around him, shocked into silence. 

Damian was the first to speak, “Because we care about you. That’s why.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bruce said, trying to wrap his head around those words. He had seen it for himself, his family was happier without him. So why were they acting like he mattered now?

Clark couldn’t contain the small sniffle he let out, pulling Bruce’s attention to him. Bruce watched as a single tear made its way down his cheek. 

“Why are you crying, Clark?” Bruce asked as he wiped away the tear. “You don’t need to pretend right now.” 

Bruce didn’t hear his response as his head filled with fog once more, pulling him further back into the recesses of his mind. 

The next thing he knew he was sitting at the table with a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of him. He gulped as he stared down the plate. This was all the confirmation he needed that he was indeed still in a nightmare. He looked up and saw every eye in the room focused on him. This couldn’t be real. Even if it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be. Bruce knew that no matter what, he would not be able to leave this table without a fight. Even so, he remained still, refusing to pick up his fork. 

“Bruce,” Tim said, sitting next to him. “You gotta eat something. We’ve been waiting for almost thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes? 

Bruce had no idea what he was talking about. He couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening. 

Still, he wanted to get this over with. With some effort, he picked up the toast and took a small bite. He immediately had to resist the urge to spit it back up. The feeling of food in his stomach was heavy. It weighed him down. It made him feel real. 

He couldn’t do it. Bruce brought his hand down against the plate, causing it to break. He felt his body move without any direction from him. He wasn’t in control of it. Bruce ran from the table and locked himself in the nearest bathroom. He wasn’t sure how he got away but felt himself relax slightly as he slumped against the sink. His eyes fell across the room and he was moving before he could think. His throat began to taste of bile until nothing else was left, copper flooding his mouth and coating his tongue.  Bruce began to feel a sharp stinging in his wrist. Looking down, he watched as red dripped down his arm. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on what was happening. 

Bruce didn’t react when the door was kicked open. He didn’t react when someone lifted him off the ground and cleaned his face. He didn’t react as someone carefully cleaned and stitched his wrist. He didn’t react when someone lowered him into bed and hugged him from behind. His mind was gone, far away from this place of hurt. He felt nothing. He should be nothing. 

Suddenly pulled into awareness by the cramping in his stomach, Bruce sprung forward out of bed. He stumbled for a moment before steadying himself on the chair next to him. He frowned slightly as he noticed it was empty. Looking behind him, he found the bed was as well. For the first time in Bruce’s recent memory, he was left alone. That didn’t make sense to him. The others had insisted on keeping a constant eye on him and now there was no one. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. What else did he need to prove to himself that none of this was real? 

Still, that didn’t explain why Bruce was standing, alive and breathing. Surely he had succeeded. He saw the door to his balcony opened slightly. With shaky legs, he pulled himself towards it, determined to finish the job this time, just in case. No one around, no one to stop him. He knew exactly what he needed to do. 

After more effort than he remembered it requiring before, Bruce pulled open the door to his balcony. He took in a breath of fresh air and felt his will harden. Just a few more steps and everything would be fine. He’d finally be at peace. No more mind games, no more questioning. Everything would be quiet. 

Placing his hands on the railing, he looked down. The height might not be enough to kill him. But if he positioned his body correctly, he could make sure the job was done. 

“Father! Stop!” A desperate voice called out behind him. 

Bruce didn’t need to turn around to know that his youngest son was addressing him. His grip on the railing tightened as he attempted to pull himself over it as much as he could with his weakened arms. 

“Clark!” another voice screamed behind him. 

In a blur, Bruce was pulled back inside and stumbling onto the ground. His chest rose quickly, as his mind struggled to piece together what even just happened. Looking up, he saw three sets of panicked eyes staring at him intensely. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” A voice he recognized as Dick’s screamed at him. “You could have fallen!” 

“Obviously that’s what he was trying to do!” Damian cried out. 

“What happened?” Clark asked, eyes still slightly panicked. He appeared to be wearing the Batsuit, which confused Bruce further. 

Damian was quiet, looking down in shame. “I stepped out to go to the bathroom for a minute. I wasn’t expecting him to wake up so suddenly.” 

“And why was the balcony door unlocked?” Dick asked, voice raising slightly. 

“I thought he might enjoy some fresh air coming in,” Damian said with a sniffle. “Staying locked up all day isn’t good for you. I thought a small change might help.” 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Dami. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just really freaked out right now. In the future, if you have to get up, let one of us know so we can take over for you.” Dick said as he pulled Damian in for a tight hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault.” 

Clark gently helped Bruce up and guided him back towards the bed. That seemed to jolt Bruce back into some awareness. He struggled against Clark as much as he could, reaching for the balcony doors. 

“It’s okay, Bruce. You’re okay. Just go back to bed for now,” Clark said in a whisper to Bruce. 

“No! " was all Bruce could pant out. 

He was so close, so fucking close. He couldn’t help but begin to cry. None of this was real, and even then he couldn’t fucking die. What was wrong with him? How could he fail his one goal? He tried to struggle against Clark and run to his salvation. But Dick stood between him and the door, arms crossed, daring him to try again. He didn’t understand why they were in his way. Couldn’t they understand he was doing this for them?

His chest felt like it was going to cave in. He felt crushed under the reality of everything. They weren’t going to let him go. No matter what he tried, they would always be there to stop him. Why? He couldn’t understand. Couldn’t they see he was tired? He was tired of fighting, tired of the pain. 

“It hurts,” Bruce cried. “It hurts so much. I want it to stop hurting.” 

He wanted Dick to understand. Surely he of all people would understand. He saw his son lift his hands and Bruce momentarily thought his wish would be granted. Instead, Dick surrounded him with his arms. He could feel hot tears hit his neck. His arms were immobilized. He wanted that pain back, he wanted to hurt himself. He wanted to die. But even in his dream-like world, he wasn’t granted that mercy. He felt a hand on his back as his mind broke away. 

Bruce was forced to sit up. He felt something cold against his lips. A thick liquid filled his mouth and he moved to spit it out before a hand covered his mouth. He forced himself to swallow so he could take short, panicked breaths. 

“Please Bruce, just a little more.” 

The process continued as Bruce felt his mind slip away. He didn’t want to be here for this. 

Bruce could hear something whispering softly in the background. He couldn’t focus on what was being said. Still, the gentle voice pulled him back from deep waters. Bruce blinked his eyes, trying to blink away the fog. Clark sat in the chair and read aloud. Bruce wasn’t sure what was happening. Today felt like a blur, it still did feel that way slightly. But Clark’s voice rang through like a bell. 

“Clark?” Bruce said, lucidity coming back to him slowly. 

“Hey, B. Have a good nap?” Clark asked lightly. 

“Where - ?” Bruce began to ask, still confused as to what was happening. 

“You’re at the manor. You’re safe. The boys are on patrol so it’s just you and me right now,” Clark said as he gave Bruce a small smile. 

“Today?” Bruce asked, trying to understand. 

“You’ve been a little out of it, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” Clark explained, sounding almost rehearsed. 

“This is real?” Bruce couldn’t help but ask. 

“Yes,” Clark said as he frowned slightly. 

“Oh.” 

Bruce lied there, unmoving. 

“And I’m not dead?” 

“No.” 

“Oh.”

“Does that make you sad?” 

“What?” Bruce was shocked out of his bubble of nothingness. 

“Are you sad you aren’t dead?” 

“Why would you ask that?” 

“You didn’t answer the question,” Clark said as he leveled his eyes with Bruce. This was the most present he felt all day and that’s the question Clark asks him. 

Bruce didn’t want to dignify him with a response but he knew he wouldn’t get out of this. Clark was stubborn to a fault when he had his heart set on something. Bruce could tell from the look in Clark’s eyes there was no getting out of this conversation. 

“You don’t want to know the answer to that,” Bruce said finally. 

“Tell me anyway,” said Clark. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” Clark said as he nodded his head. 

“Okay? That’s it?” Bruce couldn’t believe Clark would just leave it at that. 

“I know nothing I say to you will change your mind. You’re already set on dying. I’m just here to make sure you don’t succeed,” Clark said plainly. 

“You don’t know that,” Bruce said snarkily. 

“I’ve seen enough to know it’s true.” 

Bruce’s mind blanked for a moment, trying to recall what Clark was talking about. He tilted his head slightly in confusion. 

Clark picked up on it and sighed. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to eat something.” 

He stood up and gently picked Bruce up. Bruce squirmed against him, trying to get out of his grasp. 

“Clark, put me down this instant! I do not need to be carried like an injured civilian,” Bruce said as he pushed against Clark’s arms. 

“That’s not a good idea,” Clark said, sighing yet again. 

“You aren’t the judge of that. I can walk perfectly fine, now let me go!” Bruce demanded. 

“If you insist,” Clark said as he dropped Bruce. 

Bruce swayed on his feet, feeling unsteady. He attempted to take a step away from Clark but was stopped as his knees gave out. He looked up at Clark confused, unsure why he fell. 

Clark said nothing as he picked Bruce up again and made his way down to the kitchen. He set Bruce down in a chair and reheated the plate leftovers from their dinner. Saying nothing, he placed the plate in front of Bruce and took a seat next to him. 

Bruce made no move to eat. He sat frozen and began to feel the inklings of fogginess at the edges of his consciousness. Clark placed a warm hand on his leg, grounding him. 

“You are too weak to walk right now. You need to eat for your own sake,” Clark said, a hit of sadness in his voice. 

“I ate earlier,” Bruce couldn’t help but say.

“You didn’t keep it down,” Clark huffed. 

Bruce shot him a confused look, having the slightest memory of that.

“Never mind. Just focus on eating. You need something solid in your stomach.” 

Bruce gulped, struggling to remember the last time he had actually eaten. The memory felt foreign. He supposed it had been a while. The dark part of his brain was happy to hear Clark’s words. He could feel himself getting closer to his goal. He wondered if there was a way to get around this. Would he be able to possibly distract Clark and get away? 

He was so close. There was no way he could allow himself to eat right now. He had the faintest memory of drinking something earlier. That was already too much. He couldn’t have anything else. 

“Bruce, one bite at a time. Focus.” Clark’s voice of reason grated against his will. 

“No.” 

“No?!” Clark couldn’t help but yell. 

“I said no Clark. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” 

“This isn’t up for discussion Bruce. You are going to eat that food. I don’t care if I have to force it down your throat. You will be eating it,” Clark said in a tone that chilled Bruce to his core. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Bruce said, not relenting in the slightest. 

“Try me. If you asked me last week, I would have probably agreed with you. But these past few days have changed my point of view,” Clark said clearly, eyes not leaving Bruce’s. 

Bruce wanted to argue back, but felt too weak to push anymore. His mind muddled over Clark's words for a moment before it finally latched on to one specific word, days. 

“Days?” Bruce asked, slightly scared. 

Clark looked at Bruce with panicked eyes. He inhaled sharply before he grabbed Bruce's hands. “Yes Bruce, days. I’ve been staying at the manor since Monday. Today is Friday.”

Bruce’s mind couldn’t process Clark’s words. What did he mean today was Friday? Was he trying to confuse Bruce, make him think he was crazier than he already was? 

“Do you not remember?” Clark asked, his own voice elevated slightly in panic. 

Bruce began to shake his head, trying to push away his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about that. If he ruminated on it for too long, he might just float away forever. Instead, he did the one thing he never thought he’d do. He picked up his fork and took a bite. He ate methodically, purposefully keeping his mind as blank as possible. After about a third of the plate, he had to set the fork down. He didn’t think he could take eating anymore, physically or mentally. 

Looking down at the partially empty plate, Bruce felt his heart begin to pick up. He couldn’t help the tears that fell down his face. What did he just do? He had been so close and he just ruined everything. Not thinking, he tried to stand up, needing to get to the bathroom. Clark held him firmly in place by the shoulder, keeping him anchored down in his seat. He shot him a disapproving look but it softened when he took in those panicked eyes. 

“You did good, B. I’m proud of you,” Clark said as he pulled Bruce in for a tight hug. 

Bruce collapsed against him. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to feel right now. He didn’t want to exist. 

“He’s getting worse.” 

“You think I can’t see that?” 

“He needs help.” 

“What do you think we’ve been trying to do?” 

“Professional help. This is more than we can handle.” 

Bruce could hear voices around him, beginning to pull him from his haze. He coughed a few times, bringing attention to himself. Two heads turned towards him, both wearing similar expressions of guilt. 

“Hey, B. How ya feeling?” a voice he recognized as Jason spoke to him. 

He grunted in response, being all he could manage right now. 

“I figured. You’re pretty out of it right now so it’s okay if you’re a bit confused.” 

“Take it slow. You’ve had quite the night,’ the other voice spoke, quickly identifying himself as Tim. 

Bruce wasn’t sure what they were talking about until he shifted slightly in his chair. His whole body was screaming in pain, especially his arm and ribs. He groaned slightly as he tried to adjust his positioning. Feeling slightly more aware of his body, Bruce looked down and saw an IV hooked to his arm. His other arm was trapped in a cast. He brought his hand up to face and felt a tube coming out of his nose. He panicked at the thought of what it was for. 

He looked at his two sons in confusion, eyes begging them to explain. He noticed Jason had a bruise forming on his chin. 

“You fell down the stairs earlier, took quite the tumble,” Tim explained. 

“Oh,” Bruce said, voice slightly hoarse.

“Have some water,” Jason said as he handed Bruce a cup. Bruce graciously accepted it and downed half of it in one gulp. 

Jason let out a small sigh of relief that he tried to hide from Bruce. 

 “What day is it?” Bruce asked, fearing for the answer. 

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Tim said. “Just rest, we’ll take care of everything.” 

“Tim,” Bruce said sternly. “What is going on?” 

“You need help, Bruce. More than we can give you,” Jason answered for Tim. 

“Jason! Not now,” Tim said as he smacked Jason on the shoulder. 

“I don’t want help. I don’t need it,” Bruce said. 

“Sorry to burst your bubble there B, but you definitely need it. You’re basically a skeleton at this point and you're conscious for maybe a few minutes a day. We’ve already let it get bad enough. Any more and you’re going to die,” Jason said. “Though I guess that’s what you’re hoping for.” 

Bruce didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to deny Jason’s claim but he knew they were true. He couldn’t keep going on like this, not if they were wanting him to survive. 

“Do I have a choice in this?” Bruce asked. 

“Nope. Because we know what your answer is going to be so you don’t get a say.” 

“Jason, shut up. Seriously, you’re just going to make this worse,” Tim said with a deep sigh. “Listen, B. We called Dr. Thompkins. She’s on her way over here to do an evaluation. We’ll see where we go from there.” 

Bruce’s gaze dropped. This is the exact opposite of what he wanted. He could see how stressed and hurt Jason and Tim were. He couldn’t even imagine what Dick or Damian were feeling right now. All this pain, all because of him. He didn’t need to get better, he needed to be gone. 

A thought struck Bruce. He would never be able to do anything under these conditions. He was under a strict watch, never a moment alone. His head was foggy, unable to focus. He could barely walk because he was so weak. If he could hold out for just a little longer, he might be able to pull it off. 

His resolve was solid. He could do this, he was Batman for fuck’s sake. He was stronger than this. 

Bruce nodded his head in agreement. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Tim asked, clearly shocked. 

“Okay,” Bruce agreed. “I’ll let Dr. Thompkins see me. I’m willing to try.” 

“You are? Seriously?” Jason asked, not believing what he was hearing. “You aren’t lying to us right now? You’ll seriously try to get better?” 

Bruce nodded his head slightly, not trusting his voice not to waver from the partial lie. He was willing to try, for now. Not necessarily to get better, but enough to pull him out of this situation so he could get a minute alone. If he seemed like he was doing better, then everyone would drop their guard and he could carry out his plan. 

“Oh thank god,” Jason said as he began to cry. He gripped Bruce’s hands tightly, almost as if he were to let them go. Bruce would disappear. 

“It’s going to be okay, Bruce. You’ll get the help you need then you will be back to normal. I promise,” Tim said, a few tears hidden in his own eyes. 

Normal 

As if Bruce has ever been that. But apparently, his family had an idea of what a “normal” him looked like. If Bruce tried hard enough, he was sure he would be able to pretend to be that person again. 

Chapter Text

“Bruce? Are you with me?”

Dick squirmed under the sheets, something waking him up and he wasn’t happy about it. He sat up slightly and saw Clark talking gently to Bruce. 

He sighed to himself and figured Bruce probably had another nightmare. He had been having them almost every night, but he refused to talk about them once he woke up. Dick mentally tried to prepare himself for this upcoming interaction but he had no clue what to expect. No day had gone by the same, each revealing a new struggle. 

Dick was pulled out of his thoughts by Clark’s rather urgent voice. “Bruce. Please look at me. Let me see those eyes.”

Resigning himself to the fact he most likely wouldn’t be falling back asleep, Dick positioned himself so he was facing Bruce. He was prepared for tears, for sharp words, like he usually was met with after one of Bruce’s nightmares. Instead, he was faced with a blank expression. One he had seen his father wear many times over the past week. For some reason, there was a hint of horror shrouding those eyes. 

“Bruce?” Dick asked, trying to catch Bruce’s eye. “What’s happening?” 

Still nothing. Dick pulled himself closer to Bruce until their faces were just inches apart. 

“B, focus on me,” Dick said with a calm voice, despite his growing internal panic. Eventually, those eyes met his and came slightly into focus. “There you are. You with us, B?” 

Bruce just stared into his soul, as if trying to unpack the secrets of reality. 

“Is this real?” Bruce asked with a slightly slurred voice. 

Dick and Clark shared a look before Clark responded “Of course it is.” 

“Oh,” said a voice that was full of disbelief. 

Dick looked behind Bruce to see his brothers had woken up with all the commotion. Thankfully, they seemed to easily pick up on the current situation and didn’t immediately hound Dick for answers as to what was happening. 

“You feeling okay, B?” Jason asked. 

“I think I’m dead,” Bruce responded, voice barely above a whisper. “None of this is real.” 

Tim quickly joined Dick in front of Bruce and placed a hand on his heart. “You’re alive Bruce. You feel that? That’s all the proof you need.” 

Silence filled between them. Bruce seemed to be contemplating something. 

“I should be dead,” Bruce finally spoke, pulling attention to himself. A collection of gasps filled the room. Before any of them could argue, Bruce continued. “Why did you save me?” 

Damian was the first to pull himself together enough to answer. “Because we care about you. That’s why.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Bruce said as he frowned. Dick watched as his eyes began to cloud again. Some of the tension in his body loosening.

No one said anything. No one knew what to say in response. If they tried arguing with Bruce right now, he would never calm down. It was better to shelve that conversation for another day. Dick tried to figure out how to redirect the conversation but clearly Bruce had other ideas. 

“Why are you crying, Clark?” Bruce asked, wiping away his tears. “You don’t need to pretend right now.” 

Clark inhaled sharply before gripping Bruce’s hand. 

“Of course I’m crying. We care about you. How could you ever think otherwise?” Clark said sternly, voice leaving no room for argument. 

Bruce said nothing in return, body going slack ever so slightly. 

“Bruce?” Clark asked, noticing his lack of response. “Bruce, look at me!” 

Dick looked into Bruce’s eyes and saw that he was gone. 

“Give it a rest, Supes,” Jason said, resting a hand on Clark’s shoulder. “He’s gone for the moment.” 

“Gone?” Clark asked, confused and very worried. 

“His head is off in the clouds right now. Don’t worry about it too much. He gets like this sometimes. Just give it a bit and he’ll come back,” Tim explained. 

“How long?” 

“Eh - depends on the day. Usually he’ll stop dissociating after just a bit. Never lasts too long,” Jason said. 

Dick let himself sink back into the bed, pulling Bruce with him. There was no point in continuing this conversation right now. 

He glanced over at the clock and saw it read 6:08 AM. He still had a few hours before he needed to return to Bludhaven for work, no use trying to sleep now. He was lucky he managed a few hours. Dick decided he would head out after making sure Bruce ate something for breakfast. 

“Come on, get up you lazy fuckers,” Jason said as he shook Dick awake. 

“Wha -?” Dick asked, mind still hazy with sleep. 

“Breakfast time. Alfred made his favorite, maybe that will be enough to entice him into eating,” Jason said, with a sad edge to his voice as he looked down on Bruce’s sleeping form. 

Dick gulped at the thought of what would most likely turn into a battle. Bruce could be stubborn when he wanted to be. His latest stunt being the strong will he had against eating. Last night had scared Dick more than he wanted to admit. He watched as his father stumbled off a building then immediately passed out. He was able to feel every one of Bruce’s ribs against him as he slept. DIck hadn’t seen his father shirtless in a while, but seeing it now broke his heart. He wasn’t able to ignore Bruce’s evident weight loss anymore. None of them could. 

Dick sighed as he began to shake Bruce awake. 

“Get up old man. Time for food.” 

Bruce’s eyes opened blearily. Dick noticed the vacant look in them and decided not to comment. It was just going to be one of those days, he could feel it. Of course last night was going to have some negative effects. They shouldn’t have assumed otherwise. It should have been expected that Bruce might not be in the best head space directly after he tried to kill himself. He would most likely continue dissociating throughout the day. 

Dick didn’t wait for a response from Bruce before he dragged him out of bed and down to the table. Bruce didn’t fight back as he stumbled down the halls and stairs. He moved slower than usual, and not with his usual grace. His movements were choppy, limbs shaking slightly at every twist. 

Turns out Dick and Bruce were the last to join the table, everyone else was already seated. Clark sat on the other side of the table and looked at Bruce with a frown. Dick met his gaze and shook his head slightly. 

Alfred had made a feast. Each plate was overflowing with eggs and bacon, and toast on the side. When Jason said Alfred had made Bruce’s favorite, Dick had expected something with a lot more fanfare. But he guessed it made sense for a man like Bruce to be pleased with the simplest of meals. Bruce’s plate was the only one not stacked to the brim. He had a meager portion of eggs and a single strip of bacon with one lone piece of toast, heavily buttered. 

Bruce was the only one at the table who didn’t immediately tear into his plate. He stared at it blankly and made no move to eat. Dick looked up to see Clark staring at Bruce worryingly. 

“Everything okay?” Dick asked, pulling Clark’s attention to him. 

Clark paused for a moment before responding. “Is this normal for him?”  

He shot a concerned glance at Bruce and looked incredibly saddened. 

Dick put his fork down and sighed. “Not really, but we’re taking it one day at a time.” 

“Should we do something? He isn’t eating,” Clark asked, concerned. “He desperately needs to eat something, he’s already lost enough weight.” 

Dick stared at Bruce and took in his sullen form. Clark was right, he just didn’t know how to deal with it at this moment. 

“Just give him a minute. I’m sure he’ll come back to himself soon then eat.” Dick said with fake confidence. 

Clark nodded his head and continued to push his food around his plate. 

The meal was spent in silence, with the occasional nervous glance being thrown at Bruce who didn’t seem to notice. Eventually, every plate was empty besides the partially filled one. They observed him in silence, waiting for him to return to himself. 

Gently, Tim placed a hand on Bruce’s leg in an attempt to ground him. He rubbed small circles on his knee with consistent pressure. With time, Bruce’s eyes slowly returned to lucidity. He looked around the table confused at first, until he looked down at his plate. He gulped heavily and let out a shuttered breath. 

“Bruce,” Tim said, bringing Bruce’s attention to him. “You gotta eat something. We’ve been waiting for almost thirty minutes.”

That seemed to pull Bruce out of his head slightly. He gave Tim a confused look, trying to process his words. 

Eventually, Bruce picked up his toast and took a very small bite. A collective breath was held by his onlookers. He swallowed it with some struggle and let out a shaky laugh. His eyes were a bit wild, darting around the room. A loud smash pulled everyone out of their trances. Bruce had managed to break his plate in a way that cut his arm rather deeply. In everyone’s confusion, Bruce took the opportunity to run from the table. 

Tim attempted to run after him but fell, causing his brothers to fall over him in a pile. Dick was the first to pull himself up and sprinted in Bruce’s direction. He paused to catch his breath for a moment once he reached the closed bathroom door. On the other side, he could hear Bruce emptying his stomach with heavy cries. 

Dick didn’t bother to check the lock before he kicked down the door. Bruce had blood seeping from his mouth. His head was resting against the wall, crimson pouring from the new wound on his arm. Dick wasted no time in picking up Bruce as positioning him on the counter. It was a slight struggle with their height difference but Dick made it work. The fact that Bruce weighed less helped. 

He got to work wiping away the bile and blood that coated Bruce’s cheeks. Dick tried to get his father’s attention but found no recognition behind those eyes. Looking out the bathroom door, he saw his brothers and Clark staring in disbelief. 

“What the actual fuck was that,” Jason asked breaking some of the tension. 

“Not now Jason. Help me with his wound,” Dick instructed, fixing Jason with a glare. 

“You don’t want to go down to the cave to fix him up? That looks like it needs stitches,” Jason said as he inspected the injury. 

“Bruce doesn’t need to be in that environment right now. There should be supplies to stitch it up under the sink. B decided to put them in every bathroom because he claimed we hid our injuries too much from him. He wanted us to be able to patch ourselves up safely, even without his help.” 

“Sentimental bastard,” Jason said as he pulled what he needed from under the sink. He got to work slowly cleaning and stitching the wound. He occasionally looked up at Bruce for any reaction. He got nothing but the occasional squirm and sigh in response to the needle entering the skin. Jason moved as quickly as he could, trying to make this as easy as possible for Bruce. 

“Is Father okay?” Damian asked, startling both Dick and Jason. 

“He’s fine, Demon Brat. It’s just a scratch. Nothing he can’t handle.” 

“Let’s get him upstairs,” Tim suggested. Dick nodded his head as he moved to pick up Bruce. Clark got to him first and zoomed off before anyone could protest. 

“Is now a good time to ask what the fuck that was,” Jason said as he threw a look at Dick. 

“I have no fucking idea,” Dick said as he followed his brothers out of the bathroom. 

They paused at the stairs, none wanting to face their father just yet. They needed a moment to think. 

“He just made himself throw up. He did that without even thinking,” Dick said as he paced back and forth. 

“Drake, has Father ever exhibited such behavior before?” Damian asked. 

“Not that I know of. I’ve never seen him this bad. This is scaring the hell out of me,” Tim admitted. 

“You aren’t the only one, kiddo,” Dick said as he slung an arm around Tim. 

“He’s been making himself throw up after almost every meal,” Jason said, standing off to the side. 

“What?!” Dick screamed. “Have you known this whole time and didn’t tell us? What the fuck is wrong with you!” 

“Fuck off Dickwad, nothing like that. It just makes the most sense. He’s continuing to lose weight even though we’re making sure he’s eating somewhat consistently. That’s the only explanation I can come up with.” 

“Father wouldn’t stoop so low. He’s above such behaviors,” Damian tried to argue. 

“Think about it. Most of the time we can’t get him to eat anything other than dinner. After that he asks to take a shower immediately. We’ve been letting him use it alone. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together,” Jason explained. 

“You’re probably right,” Tim said. 

“See? Even Timbo agrees with me,” Jason said as he crossed his arms proudly. 

“Wait,” Jason said as he stared at Tim in surprise. “You agree with me?” 

Tim’s eye twitched as he said yes. 

“Then we just make sure he isn’t allowed to do that anymore. Simple enough fix. We should also probably switch to plastic plates, just in case,” Dick said as he clapped his hands. 

“Don’t you need to be leaving for work soon Dick?” Tim asked after glancing at the time. 

“Shit,” Dick muttered as he looked at the clock. He was supposed to leave almost an hour ago for his shift. There was no way he could go back there now. Bruce needed him here. “Damnit, let me call my boss. See if I can get a few more days off.” 

“Dick, don’t worry about it. We can handle it from here. Get to work, you don’t want to be too late.” 

“Like that’s gonna happen. Sorry Timmy boy, but there is no way in hell I’m leaving Bruce’s side right now. He’s a mess. We’re all gonna have to be here for him,” Dick said as he pulled out his phone and left the room. 

He glanced at his screen once he was out of ear shot and saw 35 missed calls. 

Shit. 

Dick hadn’t really been on it since all this started. He decided to ignore all of his messages for now. There wasn’t anything more important than Bruce’s health at this moment. Everything else could wait. 

“Hey Boss, sorry I’m late. Don’t think I’m going to be able to make it in today, or for the rest of the week for that matter. My dad’s health took a turn for the worse you see, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back. Sorry for the inconvenience! I’ll be back soon, promise!” Dick hastily said into his phone before hanging up, not giving his boss a chance to respond. 

It immediately began to ring. Dick threw his phone between his hands as he tried to silence the ringer only for the phone to begin ringing again. Dick’s eye twitched slightly as he turned it off, consequences be damned. 

He returned to find his brothers standing in the same place he left them. 

“Boss gave me the all clear. I have as much time off as I need,” Dick lied smoothly, hoping his brothers didn’t press for more information. 

“Dick,” Tim responded flatly. 

“Okay, fine,” Dick said as he threw his hands up. “He didn’t exactly give me the all clear but he knows I’m not coming back until I’m ready.” 

“Seriously Dick, you don’t need to be missing work for this. We’ve got it handled,” Jason said. 

“So what?!” Dick yelled, catching them all off guard. “So what if you have it handled? I can’t leave Bruce like this! I wasn’t here before so I can’t leave now.” 

“Listen, I appreciate you being here,” Tim said gently. “We all do, really. But your personal life shouldn’t suffer because of this. This isn’t like last time. Bruce has all of us now.”

“This is my personal life! For fuck’s sake, I’d rather lose my job than lose Bruce! I’m not taking the risk of leaving. Not now, especially after last night. We almost lost him. I don’t know what I would do if he died and I wasn’t here.” 

“Hey, hey. Calm down, Dickwing,” Jason said, interrupting Dick’s spiraling. “You’re going to give yourself the panic attack we’re all feeling right now. He’s not going to die, he can’t.”

“Him and I still have unfinished business,” he continued, though his voice wavered. “There’s no way that fucker is allowed to leave until I say so.” 

“Father wasn’t thinking clearly last night,” Damian said. 

“Fucker hasn’t been thinking clearly for years,” Jason said bitterly. 

“That is not true! This only started because of what Grayson said,” Damian pointed out. 

“You know damn well that wasn’t my fault! Do not put this blame on me!” Dick said, feeling his anger surface. 

“Jason’s right,” Tim said, pulling Dick away from Damian. 

“Again,” Jason said, looking at Tim slightly confused. “I’m shocked you’re agreeing with me.” 

“Shut up, Jason. Seriously, can you just shut your mouth for one fucking minute?” Tim said with a huff. “I don’t think this started with that night. This has probably been in the making for a long time and that was just the final straw. I think his mind has finally had enough and just…you know.” 

“Just what? Fucking broke?” Jason asked incredulously. 

Tim didn’t dignify him with a response but nodded his head anyway. 

“That’s not true!” Damian screamed. “Father is not broken! He is too strong for that.” 

Dick sighed as he bent down to Damian's height. “Listen, kiddo. You know Bruce is sick right now.” 

“Yes, that much is obvious.” 

“You know it’s more than just physical,” Dick said as he waited for Damian to agree. “He’s carrying around a lot of mental scars, some that have reopened. He’s been fighting for a long time and I think he’s tired.” 

“So what? He’s just going to give up? On himself? On me?” Damian asked as he began to cry softly. 

“See what you did, Dickwad?” Jason chastised Dick while pulling Damian in for a hug. “He didn’t give up on you. He would never do that. You know how much he loves you.” 

“Then why isn’t that enough for him to fight? Why is he so content with leaving us all alone?” Damian asked through tears. 

Dick felt his heart stop. He was afraid of this happening. They were all stretched thin and struggling to deal with this. But Damian was still a child, of course he couldn’t fully grasp what was happening. His cries were similar to Dick’s internal ones. He wanted to scream out and ask why as well. But he was the oldest. He couldn’t allow himself to crumble. 

“I think he’s tired, Damian. He’s tired of fighting,” Tim said abruptly. 

“Tim!” Dick shouted. He was going to make this worse. 

“No, Dick. There is no sugar coating this. No fancy words that are going to make this any easier to swallow. We need to be able to admit that he’s given up. He’s not fighting anymore. He’s done.” 

No one said anything in response so he continued. “We can lie to ourselves all we want but that isn’t going to change anything. He’s sick, like really sick. Worse I’ve ever seen him and you don’t even know how bad it was before. I’m scared. I don’t know what else to do to help him. We’ve tried everything I can think of and he’s just getting worse.” 

Dick could feel his own tears form in his eyes, mirroring both Damian and Tim's. He could feel himself about to fall apart. 

Jason pulled him out of his head with a few choice words. “We have something we didn’t have before. We have Superman.” 

Tim chuckled lightly, “I guess that’s true. There’s no point moping around down here. We should probably go check on those two. We’ve left Clark alone with him for long enough.” 

The four found their way into Bruce’s room and were met with a sleeping Bruce curled up between Clark’s arms. 

“Everything okay?” Clark asked them gently. 

“Everything’s dandy,” Jason responded with a bitter smile. “Just trying not to lose our heads like Pops over here.” 

Tim whacked him on the shoulder. 

“You’re still here, Dick,” Clark said as he observed him carefully. 

“Taking a leave from work until all this is over,” Dick said. “Don’t want the old man to miss me too soon.” 

Clark nodded his head in understanding. He looked like he had questions about what had just happened but Dick was too tired to explain. He plopped himself down on the chair and collapsed against the cushions. 

“Speaking of work, I’m going to have to go back to WE at some point. My secretary can’t keep rearranging my schedule forever. I’ll take short days and work from home as much as I can,” Tim said, while rubbing his neck nervously. 

Clark looked down shamefully before speaking “I wasn’t able to get any time off. I took a sick day today but I’m expected to be back tomorrow. If there is an emergency or you guys need me for anything, just yell. I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”

“Does that mean you won’t be helping?” Damian asked. 

“No! Oh gosh, I worded that wrong. I’m not leaving. I just have to be back in Metropolis during the day. I can come back on my breaks. And after work, I could even fill in for Batman,” Clark said, kinda desperately. 

“You? Pretend to be Batman?” Damian asked with a slight upturn of his chin. “Father would never allow such a thing.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Clark said with a slight smile. “Besides, I think I’d fit the costume better than any of you,” 

Dick thought back to the time he had filled in for the Bat. It wasn't something he wanted to repeat. Part of him was grateful that Clark was offering to fill the role. But he also didn't want to ask too much of Clark. 

“You don’t have to do that Clark. We can figure it out,” Dick said. 

“As I told Bruce, you aren’t getting rid of me,” Clark said sternly. “This isn’t an issue for me. I am more than happy to help in whatever way I can. I’m really worried for Bruce and I think our best bet for helping him is together.” 

“We’ll take all the help we can get,” Jason said, patting Clark on the back. 

“We’ll make a schedule that works for everyone. We can’t put all of our lives on hold for this,” Dick said. “We’ll make sure that Bruce gets all the support he needs.”

Dick was bored, so bored he felt like screaming. He was forced to take a break by Damian who insisted it was his turn with Bruce. Dick wanted to comment on the furrow on his brow, but decided not to cause a fight. Ever since, he’s been in his childhood bedroom. He tried to catch some sleep but his anxious mind couldn’t give him one second of peace. He sat with his legs resting up the wall with his back flat against his bed. 

He didn’t know how to feel. Two days since Bruce’s almost death. It was almost like nothing had changed. Tim still worked way too hard with too little sleep, Damian complained about having to go to school, and Alfred kept himself busy preparing delicious meals. The biggest difference was that Clark was there. He joined them for every meal, sat in for family movie night (currently being held in Bruce’s room), and went on patrol as Batman. He kept his distance as “Batman” but made sure he was seen. Rumors of Batman’s disappearance had stopped for the most part. 

Dick felt more relaxed than he expected with Clark there. Still, he felt some guilt. Clark was pushing himself to his limit. He spent all day as Clark Kent and Superman, the night as Batman, and all his free time playing babysitter to Bruce; he didn’t have a moment to himself. Dick had tried talking to Clark about it, but was shrugged off. Clark said that this was nothing compared to what Bruce was going through, and Dick supposed he had a point. 

Bruce seemed to be getting worse by the day. He outright refused to eat. It had gotten to the point where someone had to spoon feed him soup or hold up a shake, anything they could get him to eat. He was present for small moments of time and each time he asked if it was real. Dick didn’t know what to do, how to help bring his dad back to the present. 

He leaped off his bed, suddenly feeling antsy. One small glance into Bruce’s room wouldn’t hurt anyone. Damian should be in there working on his homework. If Dick didn’t make any noise, Damian most likely wouldn’t yell at him for disturbing him. 

“Ow!” Damian yelled as he held his head. “What was that for?” 

Dick looked down at Damian confused. He had opened his door with quite a bit of force, not expecting anyone to be there. It didn’t make sense why Damian was outside his room. He should be watching Bruce. 

Struck with the realization that Bruce was all alone, Dick broke out into a sprint down the hall, Damian wasted no time following after him. 

He barely got the door opened before Damian ran in and screamed “Father! Stop!” 

Dick saw his father leaning over the edge of his balcony, hands attempting to pull himself over. 

“Clark!” Dick screamed as loud as he could. He wouldn’t make it in time, no matter how fast he moved. His father would be over the railing before he could get there. 

Thankfully, Clark got there in time and pulled Bruce inside rather aggressively. His eyes were wild and his chest was heaving. Clark was still dressed in the Batsuit with the cowl pulled off. Dick forgot that he was on Patrol with Tim and Jason. He must have rushed here from the middle of Gotham. Dick was slightly amazed that Clark had gotten there in time. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dick screamed at Bruce, panic over ruling his need to comfort him.  “You could have fallen!” 

“Obviously that’s what he was trying to do!” Damian yelled, feeling just as panicked as everyone else. 

“What happened?” Clark asked, addressing the brothers but eyes never leaving Bruce. 

Damian was quiet, looking down in shame. “I stepped out to go to the bathroom for a minute. I wasn’t expecting him to wake up so suddenly.” 

“And why was the balcony door unlocked?” Dick asked, raising his voice slightly. 

“I thought he might enjoy some fresh air coming in,” Damian said as he began to sniffle. “Staying locked up all day isn’t good for you. I thought a small change might help.” 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Dami. I’m sorry for yelling. I’m just really freaked out right now. In the future, if you have to get up, let one of us know so we can take over for you.” Dick said as he pulled Damian in for a tight hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault.” 

Dick watched as Clark gently helped Bruce up and guided him back to bed. Bruce jolted as he got closer, trying to make a run for the balcony again. Clark stopped him by pulling him in for a hug. 

Bruce’s hands reached for the door as Dick got up to close it. Eventually, Clark positioned the two of them on the bed as Bruce continued to struggle weakly. 

“It’s okay, Bruce. You’re okay. Just go back to bed for now,” Clark whispered to Bruce. 

“No!” Bruce screamed as he thrashed his limbs. His breathing was beginning to pick up speed. He stared at Dick, who stood between him and the door and made direct eye contact. 

“It hurts,” Bruce cried. “It hurts so much. I want it to stop hurting.” 

Dick’s brain stopped working right then and there. He stared into his father’s eyes as he pleaded with him. His voice was full of hurt, raw with a feeling Dick sometimes questioned Bruce felt. 

Pain.

He could do nothing but join Clark in embracing his father, with Damian following a second later. 

“I’m sorry,” Dick said as he began to cry. “I’m sorry.” 

His heart shattered. There was no fixing it anymore. Dick had tried pretending that Bruce wasn’t as bad as he seemed but he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. When Dick looked into Bruce’s eyes just now, he saw nothing of the man who had raised him. Instead he saw a hurt child, screaming out for his parents. He let himself bawl, feeling secure in Clark’s arms. 

He must have drifted off at some point as he was startled awake by Bruce’s door being slammed open. A panicked Jason and Tim stood there, still in costume. They visibly relaxed seeing everyone in the bed. 

“Oh thank god,” Tim said, letting out a sigh of relief. He clutched his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “I thought we weren’t gonna make it.” 

“Clark got here in time,” Dick said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, that must have scared you guys.”

“What happened?” Jason demanded to know as he took off his helmet and rushed to Bruce’s side. 

“It was my fault,” Damian said as he began to cry again. “I left Father unattended and he tried to jump off the balcony. I left the door open, basically tempting him to jump.” 

“He tried to jump?” Tim said, sounding faint. 

“You left him alone?” Jason asked, voice raising. “What were you thinking?”

“Lay off. He’s already learned his lesson,” Dick said as he comforted Damian. “It wasn’t your fault. Do not blame yourself.” 

“That still doesn’t explain why the brat left him alone.” Jason continued as he berated Damian. 

“He said he had to use the bathroom. He thought Bruce was asleep and it would be fine. I ran into him coming out of my room to check on them,” Dick explained, trying to calm Jason down. 

“What was wrong with the bathroom in here? Seriously?! He not only took his eye off Bruce, but he left his room fully for god knows how long!” Jason said, seething. His voice wavered slightly, giving away his shaken state. 

“Jason,” Clark said in a startling tone. “I get that you are scared but that is no reason to take it out on Damian. Think about how he might be feeling right now and assess how you speak to him.” 

That shut Jason up, Dick thought to himself as he smiled slightly in satisfaction. Still, he was stuck thinking about what Jason said. Why hadn’t Damian used the ensuite? He would have been able to keep an eye on Bruce from there. 

“Buddy,” Dick said lightly as he faced Damian. “Is there a reason you didn’t use this bathroom?” 

Damian’s lip wobbled before he began to cry harder. 

“I - I couldn’t. All I could see when I went in there was Father’s lifeless form slowly bleeding out from his slit wrists,” Damian started to ramble. “It reminded me of that night. I couldn’t be in there. I tried to hold it, I promise I did. I tried to be really quick but I wasn’t fast enough. Because of me, he almost fell again.” 

Damian was full on sobbing against Dick’s chest. Dick shot Jason a look. The bastard had enough tact to look ashamed. 

“It’s okay, Damian,” Tim said as he approached. “It’s normal to not want to be back in traumatic spaces. No one is going to blame you for having to leave. It was an honest mistake, one I know won’t be repeated. Don’t beat yourself up about this. When I was your age and having to deal with Bruce, I messed up all the time. I didn’t know what I was doing.” 

“Really? You messed up? I don’t believe that,” Damian said between sniffles. 

Tim nodded his head. “I did. One night, I told him I didn’t want to go on Patrol with him. I was stressing about school and we were fighting. He was being reckless in fights, using more force than necessary. He would come home covered in injuries and blood. He wouldn’t listen to me, no matter what I said. I was exhausted, just needed a night to myself without having to worry about him. He said nothing when I told him I wasn’t going. I knew deep down that he was acting off but I didn’t do anything. I stayed behind when he left for patrol, got bored being alone, and decided to wait in the batcave until Bruce got home. When I got down there, I found him pointing a gun at his head.” 

“Tim,” Clark asked, clearly shocked. “How old were you?” 

“I don’t know, maybe 13? That time’s a little fuzzy because of everything that was going on. That was the first time I caught Bruce trying to kill himself. It all started because I couldn’t deal with just one night of patrol with him.” 

“That wasn’t your fault,” Damian said. “You didn’t know that was going to happen.” 

“Glad you see my point,” Tim said as he booped Damian’s nose, causing him to scrunch it in irritation. “You didn’t know this was going to happen. And you got here in time, so no harm done.” 

“I don’t like this conversation,” Damian grumbled. 

A circle of small laughs filled the room.  A tiny bit of tension faded from the room. 

“It hurts. It hurts so much. I want it to stop hurting.” 

Those words haunted Dick’s mind. 

Whenever he closed his eyes, all he could see was his father’s desperation as he shouted out for relief. A relief Dick couldn’t grant him. All he wanted to do was help Bruce, however he could. But the only help Bruce seemed to want was if it helped him reach his end. He refused all other attempts. 

Dick was beginning to feel helpless. He felt alone in his spiraling. His family seemed so put together. There were moments where someone would let their hurt show, but being able to bottle up your emotions was basically a requirement for being a bat. It seemed like Dick was the only one who was openly falling apart. Tim commented on how he had begun to pull back from everyone and could barely stand to be around Bruce. 

It wasn’t like Dick was going out of his way to avoid everyone, he just couldn’t find it in himself to help right now. And that was all anyone else was doing, helping. So obviously Dick wasn’t seeing them. It wasn’t on purpose, per se. Just an added benefit. Whenever he was asked to watch Bruce or help with a meal, he declined. The first time he did, Jason gave him an odd look but nodded in understanding. 

He just couldn’t bring himself to face Bruce since he tried to jump again. Every time Dick saw a glimpse of him, he was reminded harshly of Bruce’s eyes that night. The way they no longer shined, the hollowness within them. Bruce reached out to him for help and Dick refused. How could he possibly face him now, knowing he denied Bruce the one thing he so desperately wanted. 

I want it to stop hurting 

How Dick wished he could help. Instead he faded into the background, making sure to not cause any more trouble for anyone. 

“It’s your turn to watch Bruce,” Tim said as he entered Dick’s room. 

“Is it? I thought I switched with Jason. I don’t think I’ll be able to do that tonight. Sorry, Timbo,” Dick said, trying to keep his voice light. 

“Why?” 

“Excuse me?” Dick asked, caught off guard by the question. 

“Why can’t you do tonight? What’s got you so busy?” Tim asked as he slowly approached Dick. “In fact, why don’t you tell me why you are suddenly so busy you can never help anymore!” 

“Tim - “ Dick tried to explain but Tim didn’t let him get another word in. 

“No, you don’t get to talk yet,” TIm said as he cut Dick off. “Not after you abandoned Bruce when he needs us. Did you just give up on him? Decide there’s just no hope for him so we shouldn’t even bother trying?” 

“Tim, that’s not what happened,” Dick said quietly. 

“He asked for you.” 

“What?” Dick asked, voice caught in his throat. 

“He asked where you were,” Tim said as he tried to contain his anger. “He’s not aware of what’s going on half the time and even he noticed you weren’t there.”

Seeing that Dick was shocked silent, Tim continued. “He was crying, you know. Bruce has barely shown any emotion since he tried to jump, and yet he cried for you. He thinks this is all some kind of messed up dream and you not being there proves it.” 

“Tim, I didn’t know.” Dick said as he tried to place a hand on Tim’s shaking shoulders. 

Tim whacked his hand away and yelled “How could you?! You’re never there anymore!” 

“It’s not like I don’t want to!” Dick screamed back, feeling attacked by Tim’s words. He didn’t want to think about Bruce crying, especially because of him. He thought he was doing the right thing by staying away, but he somehow made it worse. 

“Then why! I don’t understand, you told us you would be there. You promised me I wouldn’t have to shoulder this alone. So how can you walk away so easily and leave this to us!” Tim screamed as he started to cry.  His voice was no longer angry, just hurt. 

“Because I can’t! I can’t face him, not since that night.” Dick said as he took a step away from Tim. 

“There’s something you aren’t telling us,” Tim said, realizing something. “What did Bruce say? Or did he do something other than try to jump?” 

“How did you - “ Dick wanted to ask how he knew but found himself letting out a bitter laugh instead. Ever the genius, that Tim. 

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. He didn’t do anything.” 

“Bullshit. Of course it concerns me. If there is something bothering you, you need to talk to us. That’s what we’re here for, to help you when you’re going through something so that it doesn’t cause problems like, I don’t know, self isolating and spiraling.” 

Dick dipped his head slightly in shame. He didn’t want to burden his brothers with what Bruce had said. Damian had probably heard Bruce that night, but he wasn’t looking at Bruce at the time. He didn’t look into their father’s soul. 

He couldn’t keep it together anymore. Dick slipped down his wall and buried his head in his knees. He let everything out. Tim gently wrapped an arm around him and turned his head to rest on his shoulder as he wailed. 

“He said -” Dick said between sobs. “He said ‘It hurts so much. I want it to stop hurting.’” 

Tim inhaled sharply but let Dick continue. 

“The way he looked at me, it was like he was asking me to kill him, to put him out of his misery. I can’t do it. I can’t do the one thing he wants. Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of his eyes. They were empty Tim, but still full of so much pain. I’ve never seen him look like that before. He was struggling so much and I couldn’t do anything to help.” 

“Dick,” Tim tried to say but his voice came out hoarsely. “You could have told us. You don’t need to be carrying that weight alone. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice anything was wrong until now. Actually, fuck that. I did know something was up but I was too scared to say anything. Guess we’re both avoidant idiots, aren’t we?” 

Dick laughed as he pulled his head out of Tim’s neck. “You may be right. We’ve still got a long way to go in terms of healthy communication.”

“Look who raised us,” Tim joked. “You should be grateful we’re able to hold a conversation that consists of more than just grunts and stares.” 

Dick laughed harder, suddenly feeling lighter. He needed this, just a moment alone with his brother. Away from the world and all their responsibilities. 

“Clark said he was actually aware earlier,” Tim said, breaking their comfortable moment. “He ate something solid for the first time in days and actually kept it down.” 

“He hasn’t been keeping it down?” Dick asked, slightly horrified at what else he might have missed. 

Tim shook his head sadly. “I’ll spare you the details but it hasn’t been pretty. I’m basically having to force him to drink the shakes but he struggles the whole time. He’s spit it back in my face more than once.” 

“I should have been there to help,” Dick said solemnly. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything, I don’t think.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Dick tried to argue. 

“Doesn’t matter now,” Tim said as he stood and held a hand out for Dick. “You’re going to be watching him tonight, right?” 

Dick wanted to refuse but found he couldn’t. He hesitantly accepted Tim’s hand and stood. 

He entered Bruce’s room quietly, making sure not to disturb his sleeping form. Damian was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out into the distance. He looked up when he heard Dick enter. Dick wanted to say something, but Damian brushed past him and immediately left. 

Dick sighed as he made his way to the chair and watched Bruce’s relaxed face. He took in his sunken cheeks and gasped slightly. Dick couldn’t help but run a hand across his face, feeling the sharper bones. His heart broke looking at Bruce. He was slowly fading away before their eyes. If he kept this up, surely his body would give up. Dick bit his lip as he remembered that’s exactly what Bruce wanted. 

A hazy blue eye met Dick’s. He jumped back slightly, startled. Bruce sat up immediately and stared at Dick. 

He gulped, “um, hey B. How’d you sleep?” 

Bruce’s gaze analyzed every part of his face. Dick felt self-conscious suddenly. 

“You’re here,” Bruce said, surprised. 

“Of course I’m here B,” Dick said, mentally preparing himself for whatever was coming. 

“You left.” 

Dick gulped. He wasn’t sure what was going through Bruce’s mind at the moment. For Bruce, it must have seemed like Dick just disappeared. He never said anything, just vanished from Bruce’s side suddenly. He should have known that Bruce would notice, even in his current state. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Then is this real? I’m not dreaming?” Bruce said, eyes slightly wild. 

“Yes Bruce, this is real. You aren’t dreaming,” Dick said as he gently held Bruce’s hand and squeezed. 

“That doesn’t make sense, you weren’t here,” Bruce said as he stared down at his and Dick’s conjoined hands. 

“I’m here now. I’m sorry I haven’t been present recently, this is all just really hard right now,” Dick said as he lowered his head slightly. 

“What’s hard?” Bruce asked with a confused expression. 

“This! Everything right now. Watching you actively try to kill yourself and knowing there’s nothing I can do about it!” Dick said, raising his voice. He had to take a calming breath, knowing that there was no use blowing up at Bruce for this. “You told me it hurt, that you want it to stop hurting.” 

Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise by Dick’s answer. He reached out a hand to try to comfort his son but pulled back, not knowing if he was allowed to. 

“You want to die,” Dick continued. “No matter what I do, you aren’t going to change your mind. I feel like I’m breaking apart watching you do this to yourself. It’s hard.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, voice shaking. “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why you need to let me go, so I stop hurting you, hurting everyone. I don’t want to cause you any more pain than I already have.” 

“You don’t get it, do you? You dying will destroy us! That hurt will never go away. Don’t you see how hard we’re trying to keep you alive?” Dick said as he started to cry. He was getting real tired of crying, but that seemed to be all he could do lately. 

“Then stop trying!” Bruce screamed suddenly, his chest heaving. 

Dick was shell shocked. His mouth gaped open, trying to think of what to say. 

“You are the one who doesn’t get it. I’m tired. I’m done. I’m trying to do everyone a favor by removing the problem but you won’t let me!” Bruce continued to scream as tears of frustration ran down his cheeks. “I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much. Being alive hurts and I just want the pain to stop.” 

Dick took a moment to compose himself before responding. “Listen to me Bruce. I’m never going to give up on you. I’m never going to leave your side again. You aren’t allowed to die as long as I’m here. I’m sorry that you are in pain. I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now but dying isn’t the answer. There has to be something else that we can do to make it hurt less.” 

“Why?!” Bruce asked desperately. “Why do you care? I hurt you! I keep hurting you, so why won’t you let me go?” 

“And I’ve hurt you. That’s what family does sometimes, hurt each other. But that doesn’t change the fact that we love each other. If I were to tell you right now that I was going to kill myself, what would you do?” 

“Stop you,” Bruce said without thinking. 

“Exactly,” Dick said. “Because you care about me too much to let that happen. It’s the same for all of us. You need to get that through your head, we’re never going to let you go.” 

“I still don’t understand,” Bruce said. “I saw it with my own eyes. You guys would be better off without me; you’d be happier.” 

“What are you talking about?” Dick asked, genuinely confused and a little concerned. 

“After I died, I saw you all move on. You didn’t mourn me, you didn’t need to. You were all happier without me. But now you’ve all come back to haunt me and trap me in this nightmare where I can’t die,” Bruce explained frantically. 

“Bruce,” Dick said as he gripped his hand tightly. “You aren’t dead. Clark saved you, remember? None of that happened. This is real.” 

“No! I saw it. Clark didn’t get to me in time. I know this isn’t real, you can’t trick me.” 

“Can you feel my hand?” Dick asked as he continued to squeeze. 

Bruce looked down at their hands with a furrowed brow. Eventually he nodded his head. 

“How do you explain this then? If this wasn’t real, would you be able to feel my hand?” Dick asked, feeling his mind about to explode with panic. This was worse than he thought. No wonder Bruce had been so out of it. He wasn’t fully connected with reality. 

Dick picked up Bruce’s free hand and placed it over his chest. 

“Do you feel your heart beating?” 

Again, Bruce nodded. 

“If you were dead, then how is it still beating? This is all the proof you need that you are alive.” Dick was feeling desperate. He didn’t want to be alone right now, dealing with this. He was scared, one wrong word and he could send Bruce further down the rabbit hole. 

“Clark, I need you,” Dick whispered to himself, hoping Clark would hear him. “I can’t be alone with Bruce right now. I need help.” 

Bruce stared down at Dick’s hand on his chest, contemplating something. A gust of wind sent the balcony doors open, revealing a disheveled Clark. He was donning his Superman suit. Dick silently cursed to himself. He had probably pulled Clark away from an emergency. But he didn’t have access to his phone right now to call one of his brothers. He couldn’t leave to grab it because Bruce would be left alone. 

“Dick,” Clark said as he hurried to Bruce’s bedside. “What happened? Is everything okay?” 

Dick’s shoulders hunched in and he began to sob. He felt so pathetic; he couldn’t even handle a five minute conversation with Bruce. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Clark said as he embraced Dick. “I’m here now, you don’t have to worry anymore.” 

“Clark?” Bruce asked, with a semblance of recognition in his eyes. He seemed more present, which Dick took as a good sign. 

“Hey, B. Are you okay?” Clark said as he looked Bruce over. 

Bruce didn’t answer him, choosing to stare at him in bewilderment instead. 

“Clark,” Dick choked out. “Tell B you saved him, that he didn’t die from that fall.” 

Clark inhaled sharply before he sat on the bed next to Bruce. He placed his hand over Dick and Bruce’s conjoined ones. 

“I don’t fully understand what’s going on right now but I can tell you for a fact that I got to you in time. I will never let you fall again.” 

Bruce continued to stare at him, analyzing his words. It seemed he still didn’t fully believe them. 

“He thinks this isn’t real, that he died that day,” Dick sputtered out. 

Clark’s head turned towards Dick sharply, concern written across his face. 

“Bruce, honey,” Clark said as he stroked Bruce’s cheek. “You are safe. You are alive and breathing. Would I ever lie to you about something like this?” 

Bruce stared into Clark’s eyes, searching for any sign he was lying. Finding none, he responded “No, you wouldn’t.” 

“Then this has to be real,” Clark said reassuringly. 

Bruce simply nodded his head, his expression was tight like he wanted to argue. 

“Thank you for calling me. I’ve got it handled from here if you need a minute,” Clark said as he placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder and squeezed. 

Dick nodded his head and began to walk towards the door. 

“Wait!” Bruce called after him, causing Dick to stop in place. 

“Please don’t leave again,” Bruce said with tears in his eyes. “I love you.”

Dick couldn’t help himself as he launched himself onto Bruce and hugged him fiercely. He cried in his father’s arms, feeling safe for the first time since this all started. Clark observed them with a genuine smile on his face. 

He felt all the tension leave his body, suddenly feeling lighter at his father’s words. 

“I love you too.” 

Dick found himself finally having a moment to himself. In the past few days he had been thrown back into the chaos of trying to help Bruce. Dick had hoped their last conversation would be enough to get through to Bruce, be enough to finally get him to start trying. But Bruce seemed dead set in his ways, still refusing to eat. Dick watched the laboring process of Tim’s attempts to get Bruce to eat but he failed almost every time. They were all at their wits end, not knowing what else to do to help. 

He sat in the living room,  trying to distract his mind with a book. Damian sat in the chair across from him playing a video game. He occasionally would peer over his screen to look at Dick. Their relationship still wasn’t back to what it used to be. Damian seemed incredibly hurt by Dick’s absence in helping Bruce. Dick tried to talk to him about it and he thought they were on better terms. But Damian still ignored him, still glared at him when he thought Dick wasn’t looking. At least now he could stand to be in the same room as Dick, that was a small improvement. 

Dick’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud thudding sound then a scream of pain. Both him and Damian leaped from their chairs to run towards the noise. They rounded the corner and discovered Bruce on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, his arm bent in an odd direction. He groaned as he laid there, eyes squeezed shut in what Dick assumed was pain. 

Jason was at Bruce’s side in a flash, running as quickly as he could down the stairs. 

“Bruce!” Jason screamed, as he assessed Bruce for injuries. “What the fuck was that?!” 

Dick quickly joined Jason by Bruce’s side and helped him lift him so they could bring him down to the cave for medical treatment. Damian followed behind them in a hurry. 

“Alfred!” Dick screamed as they entered the batcave. “Prep medical, hurry!” 

Tim jumped from his seat at the Batcomputer and rushed over to his brothers as they laid Bruce down on a cot. 

“What the fuck happened!” Tim yelled as he did his own assessment of Bruce. “I thought you were supposed to be watching him, Jason!” 

“I was fucking watching him! He fucking punched me then ran past me. Next thing I knew he threw himself down the fucking stairs!” Jason said as he began to hyperventilate. “I couldn’t get to him in time. I couldn’t stop him.” 

“Jason, calm down,” Dick said as he sturdied Jason by the shoulders. “Bruce is okay, just take a deep breath.” 

Jason tried to calm his breathing but was failing to do so. He sunk to the ground and clung to Dick’s pant leg. Dick noticed he was crying and Jason never cried. That must have scared the shit out of him. 

Alfred appeared rather frantically. He pushed past the brothers and placed a hand on Bruce’s chin. His shoulders began to shake as he took in Bruce’s injured form. Everyone held their breath as Alfred joined Jason in his tears. They had never seen the older man cry, and how he cried. It was like 40 years of worry and fear came bubbling to the surface. No one moved from their spot, letting Alfred take all the time he needed. 

Damian joined Alfred’s side and held his hand. Alfred startled at the sudden presence, he gazed down at Damian and smiled slightly. He took his free hand and patted Damian’s head. Damian bristled like a kitten in response but didn’t shake him off.

Alfred whipped his tears and composed himself somewhat. 

“I’m afraid this is no longer something we can handle. We need Dr. Thompkins for her expertise and advice on how to proceed with Master Bruce’s treatment,” Alfred announced to his grandsons. 

“Alfred, you know Bruce is never going to accept that,” Tim said. “We tried that before but he refused the treatment!” 

“We don’t let him refuse,” Jason said as he stood up, wiping at his eyes. “He’s never going to agree so we take the choice from him.” 

“He won’t ever forgive us,” Damian said. “He’ll hate us if we force him.” 

“I’m fine with that,” Dick announced, surprising everyone, including himself. 

Tim shot Dick a look and bit his lip as if contemplating. 

“I’d rather he hate me than be dead. I can live with that outcome. As long as he’s still breathing, nothing else matters.” 

Jason nodded his head in agreement. 

“I don’t want Father to hate me,” Damian whispered. 

“Listen, Dami. B is probably going to be mad at first but he won’t be that way forever. Once he receives the treatment he needs, he’ll be back to his old self. He could never hate you. You are the blood son after all,” Dick said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

In truth, he shared Damian's sentiment. He didn’t want Bruce to hate him. Dick didn’t know if he could survive that heart break. But his feelings didn’t matter at this moment. The most important thing was getting Bruce help. 

“Tim, would you be so kind as to call Dr. Thompkins?” Alfred asked. “I will take care of Master Bruce’s injuries in the meantime.” 

He ushered the birds out of the Med Bay and got to work. Tim left the room to make the call, stopping first to throw an anxious look at Dick. He tried to school his face into one of reassurance for Tim but found himself grimacing instead. Eventually, Alfred let them back in the room and Dick couldn’t help but gasp when he saw Bruce. Alfred had attached a feeding tube to his nose and wrapped his broken arm in a cast for the time being. 

“I’ve done all I can for now,” Alfred said. “I’m afraid the rest will have to be dealt with later.” 

“Alfred, what is that thing in Father’s nose?” Damian asked, confused. 

“It’s a way to supply him with the nutrients he is desperately needing,” Alfred explained. “It will help your father get his strength back.” 

“Oh,” Damian whispered, looking disturbed. 

“Alfred, is that really necessary?” Dick couldn’t help but ask. Seeing Bruce’s pale form laying in the hospital bed sent chills down Dick’s spine. He looked almost like a corpse, his weight loss heightened by the fluorescent lights. “Surely there is something else we can do.” 

“Dick,” Tim said, “This is for the best. At least until Dr. Thompkins is here. Bruce needs his strength for what’s going to come next.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” Dick couldn’t help but snap. He was feeling overwhelmed. He knew Bruce needed help, serious help, but he was scared of what that might mean. Would they take Bruce away from him? Dick was scared, he needed his dad. 

“I don’t fucking know, Dick! But this has gotten out of hand! I’ve tried everything and he still won’t eat! He’s fucking starving to death and he will die soon if he doesn’t get help! What do you want me to do? Just keep ‘trying my best’ and hope that’s enough?” Tim screamed as he pulled at his hair. 

“We need to do this, Dickwing. Calm down, okay?” Jason said as he approached Dick. “Bruce will be okay.” 

“I can’t, I can’t be here right now. This is too much for me,” Dick said as he sprinted out of the cave. He heard his brothers call after him but he paid them no mind. He took the stairs two at a time, panting when he reached the upper floor. He didn’t know where he was heading but quickly found himself outside Bruce’s door. He hesitantly opened it before running for the bed. He collapsed in the sheets and bawled. He felt like a child, crying out for his parents. He wished Bruce was in his right mind, so he could hold him tight like he used to after nightmares.