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Jason’s jaw tensed a little, and he bit down his initial reaction by taking another sip of his water. Because telling this doctor that he knew all about the hurt adults could do, would definitely be a strike against him being cleared.

So he shrugged, lowering the bottle. “Doubt they’ll let me go off to university or something to become a doctor like you, ma'am. No offense. But I’m not afraid. And neither will I back out of a fight too,” Jason declared. “I’m tough. I know how to fight and how to look after myself.”

I’m not scared to get hurt. Not now, not when I can fight back this time.

Watching Jason take another drink, Leslie resisted the urge to take up her notebook. 

“It’ll take a lot more than that to offend me Jason, don’t worry. You do seem very brave.”

She had decided to leave it alone for this first session, in her effort to make a calmer and more trusting atmosphere, but there was plenty she wanted to make note of, things to circle back to at a later date. She would have to write them down after he left. 

Why couldn’t he go to university?

Face carefully neutral, Leslie dug a little deeper into Jason’s answer, choosing her course carefully. “Is that something you’ve had to do a lot of? Looking after yourself, I mean.”

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And that made Jason look back to her. Because he had pushed away all that had reminded him of her at first; it was too painful, too raw. Too much of a liability.

He was barely getting used to being able to feel safe again. Let alone remember.

“She was… Before she got sick, she always read to me,” Jason started, a little hesitantly. “Encouraged me to read as much as I could too, and do well in school. Said I might actually make something of myself instead of getting stuck in the Alley. She tried to care, and be nice, but she…” She ended up caring more about the drugs than me.

Jason’s jaw tensed, before continuing. “When Willis died in prison, and she got sicker, that just – it was just us, you know? I had to look after her. Be the man. But she… guess she was too sick.”

That amount of grief. His father - Willis, rather, and then his mother. In the face of it, it was surprising that the boy before her seemed so well put together. 

She fought against a pang of  her own sorrow for what he had been through. But this wasn’t the time or place for her own emotions. When she had first began working with the Wayne family, one of the few reservations she had, had been around how it might be more difficult to maintain the professional boundaries that were needed for the job. Being in the know, almost a family friend... It had the potential to compromise her role as their therapist. She was careful not to allow it to happen.

And again, education seemed to be a common theme for Jason. It was clearly on his mind. Something that was important to him perhaps. Leslie made a mental note to come back to it, but while they were on the subject, she wanted to try and get a clearer picture of exactly what Jason had had to deal with.

A soft, slightly sad smile crossing her face, Leslie tried to match Jason’s careful tone as she inquired further. “Can I ask, what illness did she have?”

nerdybirdboy​:

“Likewise, Dr Thompkins,” Tim replied, a pleasant smile on his lips. Ok, Timmy, you can do this. Give her enough to be happy, but not enough to let her know any of your true thoughts and feelings, then it risks going straight back to Bruce and then he’ll definitely not let you be Robin anymore.

Sitting down, he was very conscious about keeping a fairly open body language, hiding the fact that he didn’t want to be there at all. “How does this work?” Tim’s voice was calm and steady, all of it through iron will. Which was also the only reason he wasn’t fidgeting. “If you want me to talk about the accident, I’ll do that, but it really was an accident. I wanted to sleep and in my sleep deprived state I took a couple of pills too much. That’s it, there’s nothing more to tell.”

What had happened was that Tim having not been able to sleep more than a couple of hours for quite some time and when Bruce and Alfred were going to be gone for the weekend, Tim had seen it as his chance to get some good sleep. He hadn’t really thought about what he was doing and had just taken some of the pills, which had been more than a person his size should take. Not dangerously much, but not good either. Okay, maybe a little dangerous, but the risk of him dying had been very low. Thankfully, Alfred had felt something was wrong and Bruce knew to never doubt Alfred’s senses and they had turned back. Instead of going away, they had spent the weekend monitoring Tim. Once he was awake and conscious enough to speak and drink, Bruce had been very very angry. Just as angry as when he’d run off to handle those thugs that first time before he became Robin. Alfred believed Tim when he said it had been an accident, Bruce hadn’t been sure.

It was true though. It had really been an accident, however, accident or not, Tim shouldn’t have had sleeping pills or benzo, but he had (not anymore though). Black market medicine, so he hadn’t stolen them from Alfred or anything. Tim didn’t think he’d done anything wrong besides worrying Bruce and Alfred.

Oh he was going straight into it? Okay, she could meet him there. But Leslie really ought to slow him down first. Get him comfortable. Or more comfortable at least. 

Closing the door, Leslie went about rummaging through the mini-fridge she had built into the cabinet against the wall. “Sure, we can talk about what happened if you want to Tim - do you want a drink? Snacks? I’ve got a stash of them here, you’re welcome to them anytime.”

Tim had clearly rationalised what had happened down to its finest points. Frankly, Leslie was fairly certain he was telling the truth, but even so, it was a symptom of what she feared was a much larger problem.

“So, you wanted to sleep? Okay, can I ask why you were sleep deprived in the first place? It sounds like you had a hard time getting sleep despite that - I presume that’s why you took the pills, but feel free to correct me.”

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And if Jason had felt any better, he would have pushed her away. But now, Jason could only be grateful for the support. Her steady hands and gait, led him back to his bedroom, and a trickle of shame curled up in his gut at her seeing the mess he had holed himself up in.

He curled up on his bed, burying his face in the sweat soaked pillow.

He looked a pitiful sight. It made Leslie’s chest ache with a need for action. To do something to make it better. She doubted however, that she could do all that much.

Resisting the urge to push his bangs off his face, Leslie resolved herself to try, knowing despite his closed eyes, he could hear her perfectly. “Okay, so here’s the thing. You need fluids, and if I’ve got anything to do with it, you’re getting them. Dehydration on top of everything else is going to make it worse. So you’ve got a choice. Either you take some small sips of something, or I’ve got an IV with me.” She wasn’t prepared to let him refuse that one outright.

Glancing around his bedroom, Leslie had some other ideas of what she could do to make it a little easier. But that was best left unsaid and should wait until he was asleep. 

Thinking on, she continued, already imagining his protests. “I’ve also brought painkillers with me. The top shelf stuff. I know you hate them, but if it might take the edge off...”

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And –

Oh.

Jason licked his lips, looking away. It wasn’t a secret. Hell, Bruce had found him on the streets, for fuck’s sake. He knew his dad died in jail, and knew his mom died because she’d been sick, well before Batman, and he, had crossed paths.

He wouldn’t take Robin away from him over this.

Right?

Jason shrugged, his tone quieting, and he kept his eyes averted. “Mom was sick, you know? Willis was in and out of jail, so someone had to take care of us. I managed just fine.”

Until I didn’t.

Until she died.

Ah. 

It matched with what little Bruce had told her. An orphan, living on the streets when Bruce had found him. But there had been a whole life before the moment Jason had decided to steal the wheels of the Batmobile.

“I’m sure you did.” Leslie agreed honestly. “It sounds like it was a difficult situation to have to deal with.”

Everything about his posture screamed at how uncomfortable he was talking about it. But sometimes feeling uncomfortable brought about good things, and Leslie wasn’t one to shy away from it. 

“What was she like?”

nerdybirdboy​:

“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Why else would he be here? Bruce had never made him go to therapy for anything else and he’d seen and been through plenty of stuff. “No, thanks. I’m good.” He wasn’t here to have a snack, this was business. Or at least that was how he saw it. Just like cops had to see a psychologist after firing their gun, he had to see one after the accident to continue to be Robin.

“You know what we do, me and Bruce, so I have that and school, both take their time and once I’m trying to sleep… How should I describe it? I notice a lot of things, details, patterns and so on. It takes time to process it all and I can’t just shut it off and go to sleep. Sometimes I realizes things when falling asleep and need to deal with it before I can sleep. Sometimes I don’t get any sleep for days and that’s when I need help to shut off. That’s all.” Tim knew he was smart and a little different, what he didn’t know was that most people usually didn’t need to process pretty much every detail they had seen that day. “So, yes, that was why I took the pills. I had waited a little too long and lost my ability to properly judge how much I took.” He really hadn’t tried to kill himself.

Tim didn’t like this at all, but he somehow still manged to keep his body language in control and kept himself from fidgeting. This all felt like an invasion of privacy. Even though he knew he decided what to say, which was why he also didn’t mention that nightmares were part of it too.

“Details and patterns.” Leslie repeated thoughtfully, taking a seat in the plush armchair and pulling her notebook into her lap. She was going to need to keep notes for this. Things to circle back to later. Everything he was saying was important, as well as the things he wasn’t saying.

Days without sleep - that was concerning. Realising he had waited too long to take the pills. Misjudging the dosage... He had taken them before. Self-medicating. His sense of responsibility seemed to be beyond that of most fourteen year olds she had met. Not necessarily all of them, given her history of working with Batman, but it was disconcerting all the same.

Tim was sitting so still, looking a little uncomfortable but not so much that Leslie had any inclination he was going to run out on her. So she pressed onwards.

“Details and patterns of what exactly?”