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Dick sat in the med bay, eyes shut tight, bent over and clutching his head in his hands, running through breathing exercises as he felt the antidote to Crane’s newest fear toxin slowly ebb away the effects. His vision was clearing (when he dared to open his eyes), and the auditory hallucinations were fading to whispers (which wasn’t exactly better, but was at least noticeable progress).
His brain finally registered that the hand rubbing slow circles on his back was real. The sound of someone else breathing, calm and slow, finally rose above the sounds coming from his own mind. He latched onto it, trying to match the breathing with his own. It was easier than counting out endless cycles, quieter on his mind. Slowly things came into focus again.
Jason. He had been with Red Hood when he’d gotten a face full of fear gas. Dick usually hated his brother’s helmet, it made him that much harder to read, but today he was thankful for the additional filtration it provided. Jason hadn’t been affected by the gas. And while the trip back to the cave was a blur of real and not real, he knew objectively that Jason had brought him back to the cave and was still here now.
While a synthesized antidote took care of most of the hallucinations and the more visceral physical reactions, even the best antidote left lingering effects behind. Dick felt like his skin was buzzing, and everything still felt a bit too far away. There was a creeping sense of dread, beyond the usual Bat-paranoia. And of course, if he dared to sleep, there would be nightmares.
Jason was saying something, probably on comms, his voice low and serious like it always was on patrol, like it always was when Bruce was listening. Dick couldn’t quite make out the words, everything felt like it was underwater again. But at least he could still breathe.
His younger brother was standing next to the metal gurney he was sitting on and Dick sat up and leaned into Jason’s body. Sound was becoming unreliable again, and it was easier to match his breathing when he could feel the movement of Jason’s chest. Granted, his brother’s armor was making that a touch more difficult than he would like.
Dick still had his eyes closed. He knew that the worst of the visions would have dissipated, but he still wasn’t quite ready to trust his eyes.
Jason shifted, and Dick made an unhappy noise. The hand rubbing circles on his back moved up to his shoulder, and Jason’s voice sounded much closer when he said, “Okay, Big Bird, no more patrol tonight. Let’s get you to bed.”
Dick wanted to argue. He was supposed to argue. He wasn’t supposed to stop until the job was done. But he also really wanted to sleep.
He must have been swaying because he felt Jason’s grip on his shoulder tighten just before he reached the edge of equilibrium. He opened his eyes to find Jason down at his eye level, taking Dick in critically. “You okay there?”
“Yeah.” Dick’s throat felt like he’d been gargling marbles. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had been screaming earlier. But with fear gas, it was always an embarrassing possibility. He nodded slowly, careful not to move his head too fast, but trying to convince them both that he was okay.
Jason let go of his shoulder, and Dick managed to keep himself upright without the support. “I’m gonna grab us some civvies and then we’ll head upstairs.”
Things must be mostly wrapped up with Scarecrow if Jason wasn’t heading back out either. That gave Dick a bit of relief. Everyone else must be okay, or the Red Hood would be on his way back out to help. Gotham was safe. His family was safe. He was safe.
Dick managed to strip out of his suit and change his clothes without embarrassing himself, his limbs mostly listening to what he wanted them to do, the ground no longer swaying under his feet. He could feel Jason watching him as he changed out of his own armor, and there was a joke, a quip, something here somewhere to lighten the mood, but his mind was still too foggy to come up with anything.
They climbed the long staircase up to the Manor slowly, Jason’s hand a welcome support on his lower back. The adrenaline crash was upon him now, and it was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other.
Finally, they were in the Manor proper. Dick was bracing himself for one final flight of stairs, but was pleased to find that Jason wasn’t leading him to his own bedroom, but to another room, further down the west wing on the first floor.
Dick couldn’t remember exactly how they had discovered it, but there was one thing that severely lessened the lingering effects of fear toxin: skin to skin contact. He knew there was some science behind it, sure that Tim had explained it in painstaking detail at some point, but truthfully none of that mattered. What mattered was that there was a way to quiet his mind, a way to keep the nightmares at bay.
And all it depended on was his family not being cold emotionless assholes. And some days that was a stretch. But today didn’t seem like one of those days.
At first they had all just piled on a couch somewhere, since no one’s bed was big enough for a vigilante cuddle pile (except for Bruce’s, but Bruce did not typically join in on the cuddling). But couch sleeping always meant at least one person woke up stiff and more than a few times someone had been knocked to the floor during the night. So Dick had searched the unused rooms of the Manor until he found one with a stupidly large bed. It had probably been the master bed, at some point, until it was replaced and downgraded to oversized guest room bed. And once the room was aired out and the sheets were replaced with something that hadn’t been sitting stagnant for years, it was a cozy spot. And more than big enough for whoever needed to not be alone.
Dick had immediately dubbed it the Cuddle Bed, which had quickly been rejected by everyone. Jason had offhandedly suggested Bat-bed, and apparently, that was more acceptable somehow. Maybe because his touch starved family could only accept cuddles as part of their night jobs, just a side effect of the work they did. Just another gadget in their arsenal against evil.
The room was already lit by a low lamp on the bedside table, proof that Alfred had anticipated the need for the room’s use tonight. Dick pulled his T-shirt off, and climbed into the middle of the bed, lying on his side. His body was exhausted, but his mind was still fighting sleep, still on high alert and knowing what lurked in the darkness.
For a moment, Dick was worried that Jason was going to leave, that he'd have to wait here, alone, in the dark, for someone else to come home and find him. Jason hadn’t been affected by the gas. He’d made sure Dick was safe. He’d already done more than almost anyone could ask of him. Asking him to stay in the Manor just for Dick’s benefit was a lot. And Dick knew he wouldn’t ask it of him, probably couldn’t in his current state.
But Dick felt the bed shift as Jason laid down behind him. He was close, Dick could feel his body heat, even though he had stubbornly left a gap between them so they weren’t touching. Jason gave a little huff when Dick pushed himself back into Jason’s chest, but didn’t move away. He let his arm lay around Dick’s waist and Dick finally felt the panic receding.
Safe.
His eyelids finally started to flutter closed as his body and soul reminded his mind that things were going to be okay. He wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to face the dark alone. He was safe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Dick woke again, his mind felt clearer. He was lying on his back now, and by the way Damian and Tim were now pressed tightly against his sides, he had a feeling that the two younger boys had also gotten hit with their own doses of fear toxin.
Jason was still here. He was asleep on Tim’s other side, a larger gap between him and the others than before, but still within arm’s reach, and still curled in, facing the rest of the family.
And even more surprising was who was curled up next to Damien, rubbing the boy’s back slowly. Bruce looked up at Dick when he stirred and asked, barely above a whisper, “Nightmare?”
Dick shook his head slightly. His sleep had been peacefully blank.
Bruce leaned up to press the back of his hand to Dick’s forehead and cheeks, checking for any sign of fever. Dick’s heart swelled at the paternal gesture. Then Bruce actually smiled as he gently moved Dick’s bangs out of his face. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a genuine smile on Bruce’s face.
“Go back to sleep. There’s nothing to fear.” It wasn’t the Batman voice; it wasn’t a command. It was just Bruce, watching over his children, making sure they were okay.
Dick nodded, and he could already feel the pull of sleep reaching for him again. But he fought it off just a bit longer, wanting to take in this moment.
He gave the boys at his sides a quick squeeze, then he reached out to put one hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and the other to rest on Jason’s elbow, which he could just reach as Jason used his own arms as a pillow.
It was highly likely that Jason or Bruce or both would be gone in the morning. But for now, they were all here with each other, for each other, and that was something.