After tugging Cass into the kitchen, Dick asked Alfred if he could make cookies for them. The butler pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "I can but I need to clean up from breakfast," Alfred explained. He smiled brightly and bounced on the heels of his feet with excitement. 

"I can help you clean up," he offered. Memories flooded back from when Dick first got to the Manor and didn't really understand what a butler was for. It took a lot of tries to get him to feel comfortable with Alfred not eating with them and even more to learn he didn't need to do as many chores as he used to. They could never quite get him out of the habit of offering help though and on days where Alfred could do with the free time, he'd make a game of the tasks. Even when he was older, Dick would still offer to set the table if he had time beforehand. Alfred was half tempted to accept him on the offer but he knew for a fact those painkillers weren't doing a whole lot and he looked tired even if he was moving around. "No thank you, sir. Why don't you go colour?"

"Cass, do you wanna colour with me?" Dick asked, his hand still holding the older's. She nodded, finding it impossible to say no when this kid was so adorable. "Should we ask the others?"

"Sleeping," she told him. He mouthed oh but didn't let that ruin his mood. He seemed content with it being just them. 

"Alright, they can join later. Alfie, where's the colouring box?" Oh yeah. It's been a very long time since they had someone so young in the house. The butler had suggested it more out of reflex rather than thinking because now he had the distinct memory that they donated most of the child supplies when Dick ran away. They'd bought some things for Damian but he never used them. Alfred was sure Jason took them for the one - and only - time he looked over Roy's daughter. "Apologies Master Dick but I may have donated it once you were older," Alfred told him. That did kill Dick's mood. He was once again reminded that this wasn't really his home. It had been his home but it'd changed over the years he grew up. Unlike him, they couldn't reverse all the changes. It wasn't his place to do so as much as he wished he could go back to the version of the house that he remembered. "Oh." He didn't say anything more than that but he didn't need to. His smile had faltered and his bouncing had stilled. Cass frowned and squeeze his hand to make him look up. 

"We can find the supplies,"  she suggested. Her signing was slow and she moved her lips along with the words to make sure he understood. He brightened up and nodded.

"Good idea! You're so smart," he praised. She blushed at the compliment as a smile tugged at her lips. This kid was simply adorable but it made sense. Everybody who knew Dick knew he was bubbly and it was nice to see he'd always been like that despite everything that happened. "You wanna split up and find stuff?" She nodded and the pair set off in directions in the search for something to colour with.

After an intense search and some light theft from their siblings, the pair reconvened in the living room. Cass had retrieved a biro pen, a pack of highlighters and a stack of printer paper whilst Dick had two pencils, an eraser shaped like a ninja star and a green felt tip pen that was mostly dried out but he could make it work. They sat down by the table and Cass pulled out her phone, pulling up the group chat to threaten everyone that if Dick shows them his drawings and they don't hype him up there will be consequences. She may have known this version of Dick all of twenty minutes but he grew on her fast. Plus, she knew his older version and he'd been kind to her. "He loves you, y'know?" Dick said suddenly. She looked over to him to see he was drawing quite happily. The comment had been absent-minded but it meant the world to her. She wondered if he knew that. "I think he'd like to say it more but he doesn't. Too many people leave." She stared at him. "I don't know why I know that before you ask. Just do." He spared her a glance to see her reaction to the comments.

"Do you remember anything from when you were older?" she asked.

"Not really? It's hard to explain. It's like when you cram for a test and then you sit in the exam chair and you can barely remember anything. Certain things remind me others don't. I'm sorry," he replied.

"Why are you sorry?" He went back to drawing with a frown, scribbling with the biro. He stayed quiet for a bit and she worried that he hadn't understood her question but then he spoke up.

"Feels...like I should be. Don't know." She studied his body language, finding his shoulders were tensed up and his eyes were darting around the paper.

"'S okay," she told him. He didn't ease so she guessed that's not what he wanted. She tapped on the desk to show she wanted to know and he let out a small sigh.

"You didn't do anything, I promise. Just don't like how things are. B changed and he's doing good now but why did he change? Feels like it's my fault." Cass quickly pulled him into a hug which he melted into. Ah, so he needed physical comfort rather than verbal. It must be confusing to suddenly jump into the future where everything was different. Even the constants of your life were completely changed. Well, Alfred wasn't. She swore the man was some sort of immortal since she'd never seen him age. He'd been sixty for all the time she knew him. Well, she presumed sixty but it was like guessing jelly beans in a jar. Dick held onto her tightly, comfortable in her hold. "It's nice I guess," he began shakily. "Knowing he kept me around but bad things happened. Don't know how to feel about it all." He pulled away from her and she cupped his cheeks, pressing their foreheads together before handing him his pen. "Yeah, you're right. I should concentrate on the good stuff. I'm not gonna be here long and older me can reap the benefits."

"It's okay to feel weird. You can always talk to me about it."

"Thanks, Cass. Now, what're you gonna draw?" She tapped the side of her nose, making him giggle. "Secret gotcha. I'll keep mine a secret too then we can guess each others!" She nodded eagerly at the idea and they got to work crafting their masterpieces with their minimal supplies.

The lie in had done all of them some good as the sleep-deprived heroes they were and the mood in the home was lighter than it had been in a while. "Can't believe he's going to therapy," Steph commented as they circled the counter, all waiting for the water to boil.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Jason replied sceptically. "He's hopped up on protective dad energy but once Goldie is back to normal, it'll just be the same thing."

"Then I hope Grayson doesn't remember this," Damian muttered. There was a hum of approval from the rest of them. Dick had known Bruce the longest and naturally went through the most disappointments regarding the man as a father. He'd already gotten enough of it and they'd much rather he didn't go through another one. Especially one that held the hope of seeing his mentor be a better dad to his siblings, something that he was very open about wanting. He picked up after the older and if when he was back to normal had to do the same then why remember the promise of change? "This sucks though right? Even if he is changing," Tim commented. 

"What do you mean?" Steph asked.

"Well, think about it. If Bruce is changing now, he's changing because he's only just realised the job he's done. Why didn't he realise when Dick ran away? Or when Jason died? Damian too for that matter. When we were down the creek without a paddle?" Jealousy edged its way into his tone as he continued to explain. "He's changed now after everything because of Dick. Why is he worth changing for now? Why were we not?" The room grew tense and they retreated into silence because there were no answers to the questions. None of them knew why only this change had come and none of them was about to ask Bruce about it. He was emotionally constipated in every sense of the word so they'd just end up more upset than they began. There was no point to it and there was probably no way they'd get the truthful answer. He'd make up something if he didn't get flustered by the question first. Seeing the situation he caused, Tim let out a tired sigh. "Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Cut the crap. You were saying what we'd been thinking," Jason told him in that aggressive tone that meant he was trying to be reassuring. He was trying and that was the main thing. "Don't tell Dick a word of that."

"I'm not gonna dump this on a nine-year-old who literally just went through a traumatic experience," Tim snapped, offended at the suggestion. He knew what the younger would do with that information and he wasn't about to feed the fire of self-doubt that ate at his brother.

"I wasn't talking to just you." He huffed and took a sip of his drink. "We'll play this by ear. It'd be stupid to get our hopes up before we get evidence." They nodded in agreement. If they learned one thing from Bruce it was not to jump to conclusions. Until they saw it first hand, they wouldn't believe there'd be a permanent change. 

It'd been a while since Cass heard from Dick so she spared him a glance only to see him staring blankly into nothing. She gave him a little nudge, hoping to hear some silly thing he'd been daydreaming about but he didn't stir. He continued to stare like he hadn't been touched. She waved a hand in front of his face and frowned when there was no reaction. "Dick?" she called softly. Not even that got something. "Dick?" she asked louder. Nothing. His hand was loosely gripped around the pen and there was a long line from where it veered away from the drawing before stilling.

"How's everything in here?" Bruce announced from the doorway, poking his head in. The moment Cass met eyes with him, he knew something was wrong. She nodded towards their newest youngest so he glanced over him. With a quick study, he relaxed but Cass couldn't understand why. He walked over and put a hand on Dick's back, slowly rubbing circles and applying pressure as he did. She sent him a questioning glance as he stared at Dick's chest. "He'll be okay. This happens sometimes." She shook her head because she'd never seen him do this before. "Cass, he's been doing this since his parents fell. When he feels overwhelmed or triggered by something, his brain will switch off to protect himself. He doesn't do it often which is why you've probably never seen it."

"How do we get him back?" she asked.

"Give him some time. Applying soft pressure always worked." She narrowed her eyes. "I promise he's gonna be okay. He'll be a little disorientated and tired but he'll be alright." Cass seemed to be satisfied with this and wrapped her hand around the younger's wrist, holding him firmly but not too tightly. "I just got off the phone with the therapist office." She glared at him. "Right yeah, not good timing. Sorry." She rolled her eyes and concentrated on Dick. His expression was both too slack and too tight depending on where you looked. It took a good while for him to begin to react to the pressure they were putting on him. He shifted a little, the hand holding the pen tensing and untensing. It looked as though he was waking each part of his body and jumping it back to life. "Dick," Bruce called. There was a low grunt in response. Merely a reaction to the sound rather than recognition of what had been said. "I'm here. Concentrate on your senses." A hum this time. 

"Is that good?" Cass asked. He nodded and she relaxed a bit. Not totally but a bit. She wouldn't relax until he was back in the room for sure. Dick blinked slowly before his eyes finally started moving around the paper. Following the lines swirled and crossed before moving back to the pen in his hand. He followed the pen then went to his fingers, the rest of his hand and then to his wrist where he found another hand. He lingered there as he thought through why another hand would be there before jumping up to Cass's shoulder then settling on her concerned gaze. The acrobat seemed to stare right through her before blinking a few times and taking a deep breath. "Hello," he greeted as though she hadn't been sat with him. She smiled, trying not to waver whilst he dipped in and out. He became aware of a hand on his back and slowly turned to find Bruce sitting there too. "Hello."

"Hi Dickie, do you know where you are?" He paused and looked around. It took a while before he answered.

"Living room. Was drawing."

"I can see that. You tapped out on Cass, chum." The younger nodded and dragged his eyes over to said hero.

"Sorry."

"'S alright," she swiftly assured him. He hummed and winced, putting a hand to his hands to his head. "What's wrong?"

"Don't like it," he answered through a whine. Bruce collected the boy in his arms and sat down with him cuddled up close. He gestured his head to Cass, silently asking her if she wanted to sit with them. She gladly accepted and sat by Dick's head where she began to softly pet his curls. The acrobat she knew didn't have this much bounce to his black locks but there was still evidence it had once been like this. He told her he fried his hair as a teenager and it never quite went back to normal. Jason said it was his curse for liking mullets. She thought it was both. "Deep breaths, concentrate on Cass." A grunt came as a reply as Dick closed his eyes but he knew he'd listened because his breathing was slow and thought through. "Good lad."

The episode had tired Dick out and combined with his already aching body, he soon fell asleep in his mentor's arms. "I hated that," Cass admitted, briefly taking her hand away so she could sign. The older threw her a sympathetic look.

"Me too," he offered. He shifted slightly so Dick was at a more comfortable angle and watched the younger's chest rise and fall. He was so young. It was hard to imagine that he ever said yes to let someone so small become a vigilante. Some days he couldn't believe he'd done it. Other days he hated that he had. There were times where he thought it was Dick's fault for being so stubborn and he hated himself for thinking that. It'd been whilst they were going through their rough years, when they were growing apart and he didn't know what to do so just blamed the other rather than himself for the estrangement. Bruce should've known to go to therapy then because no mentally stable adult blamed their child for something they enabled. His therapist was going to have a very fun time with that even if he did water it down to avoid leaking secret identities. "I wish I'd done more," he stated aloud. "I wish I was the one to help him stop these. That he didn't have to do it on his own." Cass took a deep breath and he could tell she was somewhat annoyed at his lamenting which he couldn't fault her for. It must be so aggravating to see someone you know was perfectly capable of helping only now wishing he'd done something. It was too late now. Once Dick was back in his twenties, it wasn't like the words nor the kindness would change him. This wasn't time travel they were dealing with so the caring nature Bruce was displaying wouldn't create a future with Dick having a better mental state. No, they'd bring Dick back and he'd still have all the fun issues he'd gotten growing up. That was the pain of it because it didn't matter what changes were made, damage had been done. All Bruce was doing was recognising the scars as ones he inflicted rather than the ones they had whilst around him. "I'm sorry Cassandra."

"I'm sure you are." Bruce pressed his lips together in a tight line but he couldn't argue with her. He couldn't tell her it was correct to forgive him because there was no correctness when it came to forgiveness. You could forgive and forget, you could forgive but remember or you couldn't forgive at all and just be at peace. He wanted her to forgive him obviously. He wanted everyone to forgive him. He was just smart enough to know he wouldn't get it right away and that she wouldn't believe that his apology wasn't out of courtesy until there was proof. "What were you two doing?" he asked, changing the subject to relieve some of the tension in the room. 

"Drawing contest. We were going to guess what each other drew."

"Sounds fun. I'm sure he'll want to get back to it when he wakes up."

"I hope so. It was quite nice."

"Why don't you go find the others? I'll stay here with him and call you in when he's back with us." She considered the offer but shook her head. 

"No thank you. I could do with the quiet." He laughed softly.

"So could I."