Dick Grayson one shots

Nightmares

I've just been in the mood for good ol' daddybats recently

A gasp disturbed the silence in Dick's small apartment as he shot up in bed, phantom terrors still lingering in his vision, sinking their claws into his mind.

Sweat poured down his face and back, his body frozen in terror of what his brain had conjured up that night.

His shaking hands clutched at his blankets, knuckles white, as if attempting to ground himself in reality.

Breathing was harder than it was supposed to be. It came in short panicked gasps, Dick's heart racing with terror as if it would pound out of his chest.

'It was just a dream,' he repeated like a mantra in his head, but it didn't seem to help.

Exerting an absurd amount of physical effort, Dick unclenched one of his hands from his blanket and managed to grab his phone, his vision still flickering with visions of dream phantoms.

Shaking fingers dialed Bruce's number, waiting as it rang and rang, tears streaming out of eyes that were open wide with fright.

"Dick?" Bruce's groggy voice called from the other end of the phone call.

The only response was the panicked gasps of Dick's irregular breathing.

"Dickie, take a deep breath for me," Bruce soothed, sensing what was going on.

Dick tried to calm his breathing, trying to focus on the feeling of his chest expanding with a shaking breath. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he couldn't quite keep track of the numbers Bruce was counting to help measure his breath.

Terror hung over Dick like a thick cloud. Nausea swirled in his stomach, and he stumbled to the bathroom, abandoning the phone call with Bruce in favor of emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Dizziness struck him again on the way back to his room, and he fell hard against the wall, sliding down to the floor.

The shadows twisted maliciously in Dick's mind, and his panic spiked again, leaving him frozen in terror. He could barely hear Bruce calling to him from the phone in the other room.

Dick was unaware of how long he sat paralyzed by fear, but suddenly Bruce was there, standing above him and speaking in a low calm voice.

"Focus Dick," Bruce was saying, his grip strong on his son's wrist. "Count for me, five things you can see."

Dick's eyes fluttered around the room, his breath still coming in gasps. "I... I can see... can see you," he mumbled, his unfocused eyes landing on Bruce.

"Good," Bruce said. "Four more. Tell me four more things you can see."

"Room... floor..." Dick paused for a moment. "Pajamas," he said, eyes flicking to his lap.

"One more bud, come on," Bruce encouraged.

"Door," Dick said after a moment, his breathing coming marginally easier.

"Ok, four things you can feel now," Bruce said, squeezing Dick's wrist.

"Your... your hand... the wall..." Dick said, voice still quiet and shaky.

"Only two more," Bruce encouraged.

Dick's eyebrows furrowed. "Floor," he added to his list. "My... my hair," he finished, looking back to Bruce.

Bruce brushed his son's hair out of his eyes. "Good, three things you can hear."

"The... the clock, you, me," Dick said, answers coming more easily as he gradually calmed down.

"Two things you can smell," Bruce said with a smile.

Dick managed a small chuckle, tears welling in his eyes now that he was more aware of what had happened. "M-my neighbor's scented candle addiction, a-and my apartment," he said.

"One thing you can taste," Bruce said.

"Tears," Dick said, sniffling as said tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

Bruce pulled his son into a hug and held him there as he cried. "Want to talk about it?" He asked after a while.

Dick shook his head, and Bruce didn't press him. He knew his son had demons of his own.

"Let's get you something to drink," Bruce said after Dick's tears had ran dry.

He led the younger to the kitchen and got him a glass of water.

"Th-thanks," Dick sniffled.

Bruce nodded in response, checking his watch and standing as if to leave.

"Wait!" Dick cried, his breathing picking up again as he started to panic at the thought of being left alone. "Don't leave me... please don't leave me," he pled.

Bruce softened. "I'm here," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Dick breathed a sigh of relief as Bruce led him to the couch and flipped through channels until he found one playing something decent.

The two settled down to watch the old black and white film that was playing on the screen, Dick drifting off close to the beginning.

When the movie had ended Bruce looked down at his son. Dick had pressed himself as close as he could do his father's side, and looked more peaceful than he had in a while.

The corners of Bruce's mouth turned up in a smile, and he ran his fingers through Dick's Raven curls. "Sweet dreams Dickie," he mumbled, settling back on the couch and watching as the start of another black and white movie began to play on the screen.