Nerdybirdboy:

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?”

nerdybirdboy​:

“Everything? Like things I see mostly, but also things I hear or smell. I then connect all the details to patterns. What else would it be?” Some of Tim’s confusion bled through in his expression, clearly not fully understanding why she asked him that questions. “It’s just the usual stuff.” He shrugged. If she was going to ask such basic question, this was definitely going to be a waste of time.

“Can’t you just ask what you need to deem me sane and be done with it? I’m not suicidal, except for when in class and dying of boredom.” Yes, he was joking and he was certain Leslie understood that. “Honestly, I don’t understand why Bruce got so upset about it or why he doesn’t trust me. I’m doing much more dangerous stuff several nights a week.” There it was, a hint of irritation, just barely noticeable for the skilled observer.

“You are sane Tim. That was never in doubt.”  He was annoyed. He wanted to gloss over whatever problems were there and continue on as planned. To not worry about himself and get back to being Robin. Leslie wondered how long he had been doing just that for exactly. It was too ingrained into his character to not be habbitual.

Making a note to go back to the details and patterns, she cut to the chase. “There is a difference in danger though, between fighting the villains and goons of Gotham, and self medicating and being exhausted to the point of an overdose, however accidental it may have been.” Leslie had her own opinion on the said fighting of villains and goons as well, but that wasn’t an argument she planned on having with the boy in front of her.

“You’re an intelligent young man Tim. I wouldn't dare pretend otherwise. If we apply some empathy, and consider Bruce’s point of view, is it that Bruce doesn’t trust you? Or is it that he is worried about his son and is trying to do his part as a responsible parent?”

jp-todd-rp​:

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?”

jp-todd-rp​:

Jason shrugged half-heartedly, absentmindedly fiddling with his water bottle. “He said I could talk to you about anything. If something was bothering me.” He eyed her briefly, before uncapping his drink.

“He said something about wanting to make sure I can ‘go out with a clear head’. You know. As Robin. I’ve been working really hard for it.”

So don’t fuck this up like you do everything else, Todd.

“That sums it up fairly well.” Leslie nodded, a warm smile crossing over her face. “It’s a chance to talk about anything really. And since I already know about Bruce - and what he gets up to of an evening, you can talk without having to worry about giving any big secrets away. Sometimes it’s good to have someone outside of our - immediate circle of people to talk to. And therapy give us a chance to explore ourselves and get to know ourselves a little better.”

“There are no wrong answers here. We just talk, and I might give you some things to think about or try from one session to the next, depending on where our conversations go.”

Crossing her legs, Leslie prompted him gently, picking up on the eagerness of his words rather than Bruce’s concern of something bothering Jason. “It sounds like you’re excited to be Robin.”

jp-todd-rp​:

“Nothing helps,” Jason gritted out. He was already pushing himself up, eager for his bed, where he could wallow in peace. And quiet, hopefully. “I’ve tried – nothing helps. Not even Talia knows what to do about this, doc, so lemme just… Lemme just ride it out. Okay? I’ll – a few days. It’s all I need.”

Jason’s knees nearly buckled out from under him when he rose up, and he clutched the table sudden enough to topple over the glass of water Leslie had put down for him. “Fuck!”

Leslie sprung up from her chair, hand hovering just over Jason’s side in an attempt to catch him. Thankfully, he seemed steady enough before she made contact. She was sure he wouldn’t thank him for it if she had. 

“I’ll get it.” She said hurriedly, moving the glass so that it was back to it’s upright position before it could roll off the table. It was only water, thankfully. Easily cleaned up. A job that could wait a moment.

He could hardly stand, never mind anything else. Leslie’s mind raced through options, possibilities. Ways she could help. But first thing first.

She turned, offering out her arm to Jason with a half-hearted grumble. "You’re far too stubborn for your own good. Lean on me, it’s alright. We’ll get you back into bed.” 

jp-todd-rp​:

Jason didn’t take the glass. Nor did he even consider moving towards it. He watched her sit down in front of him, listened to her opening the door for him to talk and –

“Turns out dying and coming back isn’t as inconsequential as they make it out to be,” Jason began, and he let his gaze drop to his lap. “I – I can’t remember a day when I haven’t been in pain since… then. Sometimes, like now, it’s just… gets worse.”

Like I’m being killed all over again.

It was as if a heavy weight had dropped into the pit of her stomach. She had been hoping harder than she would care to admit that her hunch had been wrong. 

After what happened in Ethiopia... Just the fact that Jason had come back in the first place - well it was all so impossible that - Leslie had just assumed...

He had been in pain the entire time?

“Shit...” Sitting back in the chair, Leslie gave herself a moment. It made perfect sense, yet she hadn’t seen it coming. If it hadn’t of been for Grace, she might never have. Part of her itched to run all the tests she could, to see if she could put whatever it was right. But even if Jason would ever tolerate it, now wasn’t the time. 

Her heart ached for him. He had been alone - dealing with all of this, alone again.

Damn bats...

Leslie’s voice was laced with sadness as she asked him, half knowing the answer already. “You didn’t think this was something worth mentioning to anyone?”