I hate spiders

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ThatLobster1234 You wanted something angsty... well prepare yourself.

TW: mentions of r@pe

https://www.google.com/search?q=rape+hotline&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-us&client=safari#

https://www.rainn.org/resources


"Grayson, you like animals don't you?" Damian asked, approaching his brother.

Dick smiled and nodded at the younger.

Damian smiled. "I have a rather fascinating new pet I'd like to show you," he said, grabbing the elder's hand and dragging him up the stairs to his room.

The room was rather dark and Damian didn't bother turning on the light, relying on the light from a small heat lamp in his new pet's enclosure.

From the looks of the terrarium Dick was expecting a lizard, so when Damian reached inside and pulled something fuzzy from the glass box he was caught completely off guard. "It's a..." Dick trailed off, all color draining from his skin.

"Tarantula!" Damian finished happily. "Would you like to hold it?" He asked, blissfully unaware of his brother spiraling into a panic attack in front of him.

"T-that's great Dami," Dick said, his voice faint, "but I don't really like spiders," he finished, stumbling backward and banging into the door frame. Especially not that kind of spider...

Damian set the spider back in the terrarium and carefully closed the top. "Grayson?" He asked worriedly. "Are you ok?"

Dick shook his head, stumbling back into the hall. "A-arachnophobia," he mumbled before rushing off to his room, knowing if he didn't give an excuse for his strange behavior Damian would began prodding for an answer that he couldn't bear to give.

He managed to lock the door with shaking hands before sliding to the floor. His breathing was out of hand, but he couldn't think clearly enough to employ some of the breathing techniques he'd been taught to calm it. He vaguely realized that he was lying on the floor at some point, his mind too frazzled to discern between flashback and reality.

A strangled wail ripped itself from his throat as he was thrust back into the memories of that night.

A frenzied knocking blended into the background as Dick scooted himself into the corner nearest the door. "No," he mumbled under his breath. "Stop..."

The door finally swung open, effectively squishing Dick behind it for a moment.

Bruce made a mental note of the terror on Dick's face when he saw him standing over him, the way he curled into a tight ball, body shaking in fear.

He quickly opted to crouch at his son's side instead, placing a gentle hand on the acrobat's cheek. "It's me Dick, you're safe," he said, again noting when Dick flinched at the sound of his own name.

Dick's eventually dragged his gaze up to Bruce's face, staring through him for a good minute or so before a wisp of a voice called the elder's name. He seemed to be becoming more aware of his surroundings, brow furrowing when he realized how tight his chest was from his rapid breathing. "C-an't... breathe," he managed to choke out.

Bruce loosely grabbed Dick's wrist, making sure he could pull his hand away at any moment if he needed to. "Breathe with me," he said, placing Dick's hand on his chest so he could feel the rise and fall.

Dick's eyes were wide and panicked. "C-an't," he whimpered.

"Let's count together," Bruce said. He counted each breath out loud, punctuating each number with a tap on the younger's wrist.

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