I've been working on this one for weeks! and there's going to be at least two more with similar titles. XP reminder: I am not a psychiatrist. I am not a psychologist. I am a janitor, and I read and watch a lot of psychological dramas. I do not claim to be an expert of any sort. All my technical lingo and ideas about how things are run can be entirely wrong and is willing to be corrected by the experts. I do try to be accurate, but you can never tell with internet sources. =/

Anywho, enjoy!

Dick-17 Damian-3

Psychiatrics

The waiting room has to be one of the worst places in the world. Seriously, it has to be. Waiting for the principal to talk to you, waiting for your parents to arrive and take you home for a grounding after a fight, waiting to be seen by a judge, waiting for your number to be called at the DMV, waiting for admittance to the emergency room while holding a crying child, all of it sucked. Waiting rooms usually meant something bad happened, or was about to.

In Dick's case, bad happened and he was paying the price even if it wasn't his fault. Ever since he turned himself and Deathstroke into the police, he'd seen about a dozen different waiting rooms. And here he was, in one again. Oh joy.

"Why so anxious?" He looked over to Marshal Tyler Miller, his parole officer, on the opposite side of the waiting room, smirking slightly at his discomfort. Oh how he was starting to hate the guy. But he was stuck with him until next March. He could last ten months. He had to.

The teen tried to shrug it off, but he was still nervous. "I don't like shrinks. I had to go to one when my parents died and all that guy did was drug me. I got more help from Bruce and Alfred than I did from that yutz."

"Oh come on!" Miller didn't buy it. He didn't buy half of what came out of the kid's mouth. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"I'll show you a video of him back then if you don't believe us," Bruce stated in retaliation. He was there too, along with Damian. Alfred was out shopping for groceries while the others were at school, and shopping with a toddler was never a good idea. Being as this was Dick's first session with the new psychiatrist assigned to him, Bruce accompanied to make sure everything went along alright. Since this was also outside of Wayne Manor grounds, his parole officer had to be there as well. Weekly psychiatric sessions and check-ins were going to be standard procedure for quite some time.

Man did Dick's life suck.

Agent Miller raised an amused eyebrow at them. "You recorded him on drugs? Seriously?"

"We needed proof to override the judge's order," the man explained, keeping a close eye on Damian as he wandered around the room, pretending to read the paper at the same time. He and the other small children in the waiting room were nice distractions from the anxiety they were feeling. The communal room for the large practice was a nice change, but it reminded them more of the dentist than a therapist. Why didn't this judge recommend a private practice? Money was never an issue. "It also helped convince CPS to let me adopt Dick."

"Wait," the cynic started, now interested, "are you saying you had custody, before adopting him?"

"Of-"

"Doctor Tolo will see Mr. R. Grayson now." A nurse not much younger than Bruce came forward with a clipboard, looking over the room. Dick froze for a moment before looking at his father for encouragement. Bruce didn't say a word. He just went over to Damian and hoisted him up so the entire party could go into the office.

Taking that as a sign, the teen raised a hand and stood up. "Here."

The nurse eyed him, smirking slightly at his schoolboy habit. She motioned for them to follow, not at all surprised by his companions. "This way please."

They left the murmuring waiting room at last, following her down a nearly sterile hallway. It reminded them all yet again of a dentistry, but it also reminded Dick of the bunker he stayed in while in Mexico. Reflexively he stayed close to Bruce rather than the nurse. She was pretty, but not tempting enough to leave his safety net. After a minute or two, they stopped at an open door which the nurse knocked on. "Doctor Tolo. Your 1:30 is here."

"Ah good. Thank you Alicia." A lean Hispanic woman in her early forties left her comfy chair and crossed the room to meet them. She gave each of them a small smile before offering her hand out to Bruce. "Doctor Rosa Tolo. And you must be..."

"Bruce Wayne," the man answered automatically, taking her much smaller hand in his as he juggled Damian onto one side. The kid just looked at her like he looked at most of their dad's girlfriends: completely unimpressed. "Dick's father."

"Dick?" An inquiring tone entered her voice as she figured out the nickname. "Oh! As in Richard! And that must be you." She turned to the teen with a smile, offering her hand. She tried to make a joke of it. "I'm afraid toddler psychiatry is beyond me, and these two aren't young enough."

"Yeah," Dick took her hand, smiling awkwardly. A nervous pit kept growing in his stomach. "That's me. Richard Grayson. I'm the crazy teenager sent here for purgatory."

Everyone but the kid snorted at the comment. Making it clear he did not want to be there within the first minute, nice. Dr. Tolo must have gotten it a lot because she didn't even blink. "Purgatory. That's a new one. I assure you, this will not be as bad as people make it out to be. Hard, but worth it. Whether or not everything goes well is up to you."

The young man cringed slightly, knowing it was true. What was that old joke? Ah yes. How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb? One, but it's the light bulb that has to want to change. Everything depended on whether or not he applied what they talked about. He tried to not think too hard as they came completely inside and found seats, letting the doc finish her introductions.

"Marshal Miller," his parole officer told her as he took her hand, a smirk on his face. "I'll be the one you'll be reporting to in his case."

"One of the people you'll be reporting to," Bruce emphasized, letting Damian down to check out the room. "Dick's still a minor and every item of paperwork-"

"Goes to you as well." Rosa Tolo gave him a knowing smile as she went back to her desk. "This is not my first rodeo Mr. Wayne. I've handled minors before, and their parents." She ignored Bruce's scowl, Dick's nerves, and Miller's growing smirk, in favor of finding some paperwork. "That being said, I need you to fill out these forms, for legality's sake. And Mr. Miller, these are for you."

"Thank you... Miss?"

The lady laughed lightly as he took his stack. "Ms. I had my eye on a man for a long time, but it never panned out. If you both finish those while I do my first assessment, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course, Ms. Tolo." Miller gave her a flirtatious smile while Bruce looked over the documents. Dick barely managed to get Damian away from a potted plant when he heard something he wasn't too fond of.

"Assessment? As in test?"

"I have to know how you are dear," she informed him quickly, as if she explained this a million times to others. "Just a series of questions is all. It's just an interview."

"What about the report Dr. Pendergast wrote up?" Honestly the teen liked that lady. She gave him a benefit of a doubt in San Francisco, and thoroughly diagnosed him with having PTSD. Her testimony about his strong sense of justice and loyalty to family largely contributed to the deal giving him his limited freedom now.

"I'm taking it into consideration," Dr. Tolo stated evenly. "But I have to know firsthand how you're dealing with things. I can't rely solely on reports Richard."

"But-"

"Dick, drop it." Bruce looked over the stack of papers, giving him the you're-being-ridiculous look. "Scientists have to verify other people's theories, and new project managers have to see how things are run first hand when they take over after someone leaves. It's standard procedure. Don't make it more difficult than it has to be."

Dick pouted, seeing the sense behind it. He picked Damian up and carried him over to the others as he accepted it. "Fine... but just to make one thing clear, I'm not taking any medication. Ever. Had some pretty bad experiences with meds in the past and I don't want to relive any of them."

His father nodded, accepting it easily, but was the only one. There seemed to be some disappointment on the lady's face but she recovered quickly. "Richard, sometimes medication helps with the healing-"

"Any and all medication has to be approved and prescribed by our doctor, Leslie Thompkins," Bruce interrupted before an argument could start. Thank heavens for adult reasoning and legal matters. "I'll leave her contact information so you can discuss possible medical treatment, if it is absolutely necessary. Without her approval, they will not be prescribed. If undesirable side-effects take place, they will be discontinued immediately with no change of future use. This was agreed upon when the judge declared therapy was mandatory."

"Oh give the woman a break Wayne!" Miller almost growled at the two. All this over medicine?

"I take it you don't like therapy very much? Mr. Wayne?" The cold edge to the woman's voice melted away once Bruce explained things a little better.

"Not at all. I am very impressed with the profession and the ability to change people's lives for the better. But like Dick said, we had a bad experience with a psychiatrist many years ago. He prescribed an antidepressant instead of addressing the issues, and the results were not kind."

This spiked the other two's interest, forcing the woman to ask for more. "Why was he put on antidepressants? Was he depressed?"

"Not clinically."

"You would be too if you saw your parents die."

The words just tumbled out of Dick's mouth without a second thought. He could swear he saw his parole officer go a few shades paler, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the doctor was listening and getting an idea of where to start. "I see... and how old were you?"

"Eight. Almost nine." He thumbed over to Bruce still trying to look through the paperwork. "He was younger when his died. Dami, that's my hair."

"Yummy!" The toddler was getting tired of being ignored, and decided to pretend he was a cow, by 'eating' his brother's hair. The teen looked to their father with some misgivings.

"Can he choke on hair?"

The man shrugged. "It'd be extremely difficult."

"What was the name of this previous doctor?" Dr. Tolo looked between the pair with some curiosity. "I'll need a copy of his records."

Dick looked up in thought for a moment then shrugged, letting his baby brother play with his hair for a while longer. "Doctor Evil-face? Didn't bother to remember."

"Davison." Bruce signed one bit of paperwork then looked up at her again. "I'll have to check my records for an exact name, but I remember him being called Dr. Davison."

"Please send me his contact information before the next session." She looked him in the eye to try and drive the point home. "I need to know all I can in order to help."

It took a lot of effort for the acrobat not to roll his eyes. "Right."

"I'll take care of it," the man promised, purposely ignoring his son's tone of voice.

"Good. Now if you don't mind," the psychiatrist waved a hand towards the door, "I'd like to start my session with Richard now."

"Of course." Marshal Miller took a pen off the woman's desk then turned towards Bruce. "Let's give them some privacy shall we?"

Bruce and Dick exchanged looks, both a little worried. Dick did not like being alone with anyone who wasn't a close friend or family member, not since his abduction at least. His father sat with him during every part of the process thus far, providing the support and comfort he needed when he had to recount what happened to him. The only times the two of them were apart was when Alfred or his siblings were with him. The teen really hated being alone.

"If it's all the same to you," the CEO proceeded, "I would like to sit in on this session. I really don't think Dick's ready to-"

"Mr. Wayne, if you coddle him, he'll never heal." Her firm stare almost frightened the teen in question. "I insist that you do not sit in on any of our sessions. They are strictly confidential and Richard needs to stand on his own two feet."

"But aren't I supposed to feel comfortable and safe during these sessions?" Dick liked his lips nervously as he thought this out. "I mean, that's what they say on those shows and all. Before any kind of therapy session, patients should feel-"

"You are not undergoing hypnosis Richard," Dr. Tolo insisted. "And that's a thin door. It won't be locked and if we remain on our respective sides of the coffee table, there shouldn't be a problem."

The boy looked over to the table and chairs not too far off. It wasn't that much of a distance and he'd prefer a location less exposed and closer to the exit, with his back to the corner near it. He did not feel safe there. He snapped his eyes back to the woman. "Look, just this one session? Bruce won't get in the way and-"

"Richard, this has to be between us and us alone. I can't have Mr. Wayne here interrupting for any reason. And I know he will." She gave them a shrewd look, pointing out what they were doing unconsciously. "He's been giving you subtle cues since you stepped in here, telling you what to say."

"I haven't-"

"You just did," the lady cut the CEO off before he could say a word more. "You two probably don't even think about it anymore. He takes your lead in almost everything. He may even be conditioned to watch your youngest so us adults can talk in peace. Not a bad thing, but Richard will be distracted the entire time if I let you stay with him. And that will not help him heal now will it."

The finality in her voice ended all debate. Dick and Bruce exchanged looks, silently admitting the truth. He did depend on Bruce a lot lately, and it was the teenager's natural instinct to take care of the younger ones so they wouldn't be bored when their dad talked to someone. Maybe there was something to what she said after all. Still, Dick didn't like it. Too bad Bruce was seeing reason.

Slowly the man nodded. "Alright."

"But-"

"Dick," he looked the teen in the eye, hoping to calm him down, "she has a point. You need to be able to focus during these sessions. I'll be right outside that door, and personally I think you could take her."

Dick whined a bit to himself, holding his baby brother a little tighter. He really did not want to let go of him. Of anyone really. After finally getting everyone back, he was being forced away from them. Sure it was for something good but... 'I'm acting like a needy idiot.' "Fine." Reluctantly he passed Damian back to his father, pouting. "But I want it on record that I'm doing this out of protest."

"Duly noted. Come on Damian. Let's let them get to work." The toddler pouted slightly, confused by the change of events. The two boys locked eyes as their father carried him out of the room, following after the satisfied marshal. Bruce looked over his shoulder to the teen before closing the door behind him. "See you in a bit Dick."

"Right..." When the door clicked shut, Dick did everything in his power not to have a panic attack. Logic told him he'd see them again within an hour, but actually being away from them in an unknown place sent ice cold needles into his stomach. One of the doctors in San Francisco said he might have an ulcer and they made an appointment with Leslie to find out for sure. This whole situation was not helping him in the slightest. Why couldn't they have one session with Bruce? Just one!

"Well, now that that's settled..." Dr. Tolo gave the lad an encouraging smile, waving him over to the couches. "Why don't we have a seat."

Swallowing, he nodded and made his way to the cushions. Tense and ready to spring up at a moment's notice, he sat down, making sure the table stayed between them. Honestly Dick couldn't tell right then if his interpeople warning bells were going off saying this was a bad lady or if his PTSD was going haywire. He just didn't feel safe there.

Probably seeing his anxiety, the lady gave him an understanding smile across the way. "I know you don't feel comfortable here Richard, but this really is for the best. Today, I just want to talk. Get to know you a bit."

He hesitated before speaking, holding on to himself. "Okay..."

Sighing slightly, Rosa Tolo opened her file on him and the notepad next to it. "Let's start with the basics shall we? Names and places."

Even after twenty minutes, Dick was anxious. He already told her everything she should have already known. Parents were Mary and John Grayson, born on the road in Nebraska with Haly Circus seventeen springs ago. He was a trapeze artist since he was four, his first official performance when he was seven, then orphaned when he was nearly eight and a half. After a week in juvie, Bruce took him in, strong armed CPS into giving him full custody eventually. At first he wasn't very accepting of Jason when he joined the family, but when he learned his place was secure, he was elated to have a younger brother. The others afterwards were much easier to love and now he'd do anything to protect them.

"And why is that?"

Dick tried to shrug it off as something obvious. Her questions like these made him anxious. Was she going to make him question why he did what he did? His case really was that cut and dry. "Because I love them, and as the big brother, I have to protect them."

"Who told you this?"

He tried not to glare at the woman. "No one did. I figured it out for myself."

"Did you now."

Hearing the tone of her voice, he couldn't help but to glare. If his insides weren't already a mess since Mexico, they sure were now. Leslie checked him out the day after he came back to Gotham and told him due to the stress he endured, his stomach lining had weakened. She put him on medication to strengthen it, but mostly told him to avoid stress. Now he was with a therapist who added to it. Oh joy.

"Yes, I did." The teen looked over her notes upside down, trying to figure out what she was putting together. He knew the wrong word from her could get him and his siblings removed from Bruce's custody for good. How he wished Dr. Pendergast was his shrink back here.

A thought crossed his mind as he tried to ignore the churning in his stomach and the warning bells in his head. This might just get her off his protective natured back. "Tell me ma'am, have you ever lost someone close to you? Family by chance?"

Dr. Tolo stilled, looking up at him a bit confused. "Yes..."

"Who?"

After a moment she answered, still confused. "My grandmother."

"She went peacefully, didn't she."

"Lung cancer actually."

"Still a natural death, though sad. Not violent." His eyes narrowed as he drove the point home. "Imagine watching your parents die because of a moblord wanting to use your home for a drug smuggling operation. Just try losing your family violently like that, and not want to protect the next family you have with every fiber of your being."

Upset and anxious from having to defend himself, Dick jolted to his feet and walked around the room. One night defined his actions towards everyone, particularly his siblings. Any time they were in danger he could see and smell that night all over again, more so lately. Knowing they were in danger the entire time nearly kept him in a panic. He did everything he could to protect them, always.

His statement definitely shut the woman up for a few minutes, eventually ending with her giving a humbled smile. "I see. Sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean to."

"Yeah well," he looked to the side, anxious as ever. He really did not want to be there. He never felt claustrophobic before, but right then the room didn't seem very spacious. "After being accused of Stockholm syndrome, being brainwashed, and every other person's 'booty boy', you kinda get sick of people questioning your motives. Are we done?"

"It's only been fifteen minutes Richard." The doctor motioned for him to sit back down. "How about we talk about something else. Your love life perhaps?"

"It can't have been that long!" Dick didn't want to look at his watch and be told wrong. He rather just turn on the emergency signal but knew better.

"There's a clock right over there Richard." She pointed to a face clock shaped like an owl on the wall. He glanced at it once and looked away, even more agitated than before. "Your internal clock must be off."

He bit his lip and looked away, holding onto himself nervously. Of course it was off. When he was rescued, he didn't even know the date. For some time, all he was allowed to know was whether it was day or night, and half the time in the beginning, he was in a place it could be either and he'd never know. He still hadn't gotten his internal clock adjusted back to a normal sleeping schedule. Who knew four months in hell would screw him up this badly.

"It's alright Richard," Dr. Tolo insisted, trying to use motherly, tender tones to get him to calm down. It only put him more on edge. The last person who used those tones wished he was dead. That was fine; he never cared that much for Talia. "Things like this happen after a traumatic experience. This is-"

"Can we just stop here for today?" Dick could not sit still. He really wanted to run out that door, grab Bruce and Damian, and run home. "I really don't feel up for this."

"No we can't." The lady gave him a shrewd look, dropping the soothing act for the direct approach. She really was testing him to see what he reacted to best. Maybe when he took his psychology class he would know why she was so inconsistent. "You are required to be in therapy for a full hour. Court order. You run out that door before the hour is up and I can send you to juvenile hall. Are we clear?"

Ice felt like it was being shoved down his throat. Oh, Dick really didn't like therapy with this lady. Something about her and this whole place just set him on edge. Not even his warden made him feel like this. The last person who did kept him in a stone box for a few days. Slowly the lad nodded his head, swallowing before answering. "Yes ma'am."

"Good." She turned back on the smile, motioning for a seat again. "Now please, stop being so defensive. This will only be as difficult as you make it, and I really don't-"

"WAAAAAAAHHH!"

The protective big brother snapped his attention back to the door, a knee jerk reaction followed by his immediate dash to it. That was Damian's voice, crying bloody murder. Fear and dread filled him as he jerked open the door and nearly ran out to help him. "Damian?!"

"Richard! Stop!" The doctor behind him only reminded him of what she just said, keeping him in the doorway as he panicked to find out what happened. "You can't leave until the session's over!"

Mostly she was ignored when he spotted the source of the cry. Bruce was already at his baby boy's side, picking him up and examining a red bump on the kid's noggin. Dick's insides loosened, but did not go away. "What happened?"

Bouncing the kid, Bruce calmed him down as he went to his eldest's side. "He was running around, tripped, and ran into a wall. Nothing too serious. Is the session over?"

"No it is not." Tolo grumbled behind the teen, glaring a little. As she complained about his attitude, Damian reached out to Dick, who graciously took him to calm his own nerves. He really needed to know this little guy was alright at all times. "Richard still has forty minutes left, and he's being incredibly defensive beyond facts."

"She asked me why I felt I had to protect people and didn't like my answers," Dick translated before smiling for the kid who clearly needed a nap. He normally wasn't this clumsy. "Hey there Dami! Miss me?"

"I'm bored."

Bruce looked over their heads to the lady as he tried to play peace keeper. "I'm sorry, but when Dick's on edge, he becomes very defensive and difficult."

"No I don't," the teen tried to insist, holding the toddler a little closer. Their father gave him a 'you're being silly' look before giving examples.

"Dagget's charity banquet last year. A member of the press was asking you questions about alleged criminal activities at Haly's Circus. You nearly started a fight by the dessert table."

"That guy was making things up, I'm certain of it."

"How about when I found out about you and Barbara?" That stilled Dick for a good second or two as Bruce explained. "You wouldn't talk to me for a week after her father and I talked about it and split the two of you up."

"You know our age difference isn't illegal in this part of the country right?" Did he have to bring up that old argument again? "It's only two years and I'm seventeen now. Hardly an issue any-"

"I'm not going to argue about that with you," the man insisted, having already come to some kind of consensus on that. "Until you're eighteen you still have a curfew, and she's not staying overnight at the manor. That's the deal now."

"Not like you'd be allowed that right now anyway." They all but forgot the marshal watching them in amusement. He looked ready to laugh. "Who is Barbara?"

"The commissioner's daughter." "My girlfriend." The two's voices overlapping each other surprised their audience.

Miller whistled. "Older woman eh?"

Dick had the decency to blush a little. "Yeah."

"Nice."

"Anyway!" Dr. Tolo gave them all a shrewd look, taking their attentions away from the discussion. Why were these people so easily sidetracked? The only conclusion was that her patient was doing everything he could to avoid the office. "Richard needs to finish his session and actually answer my questions openly. Come on."

The lad stilled, not liking the idea of going back in. He held onto his brother a little tighter for comfort, and to his father for guidance. Bruce got the hint and sighed heavily. "Look, Dick's clearly experiencing some anxiety being alone in there with you. He's a very social creature and needs someone he trusts in the room with him to be at ease. He's less defensive when he knows someone has his back and people are going to be alright. Just let me sit in this one session and-"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not Mr. Wayne. Dick needs to do this on his own. I can't-"

"What if Damian came in with me?" Dick looked back to the lady just as the kid in question yawned. Maybe this would work. "He's about ready to pass out so he can't comment about anything, and it's not like he'd understand what's going on. I just need to know he's alright, that's all. Please, can he stay with me?"

The psychiatrist looked over the teen for a good minute before looking at their father. He further considered the proposal. "Dick's really good with kids, and is usually most comfortable when he's with his siblings. So long as you don't attack them, he'll be an open book. It would work quite well."

"I don't-"

The parole officer chuckled again. "So you've got PTSD and separation anxiety. Brilliant. Hey Rosa! Let him keep the kid. Seems rather attached to him anyway."

Dr. Tolo glared at the officer for a moment before looking back to her patient. She seemed to think it over again, and eventually gave in. "Fine. But just this session. If I find any reason to have him removed, he will leave. This is supposed to be your therapy session, not his. If today works out better..." She shrugged. "We'll talk about making the arrangement permanent. Deal?"

A wave of relief went over Dick, giving his brother a small squeeze as he nodded, smiling. "Deal."

Bruce gave a small sigh and nodded, clearly not liking this 100%, but seeing the logic behind it all. The important factors satisfied, the lady doctor smiled and motioned for the two to return to the room's couches for further discussion. Giving their dad one last wary look, she closed the door to continue their session.

It only took a minute for her to return to her seat, but that was all it took for Dick to sit down as well and lull a very sleepy Damian into his afternoon nap. He could see how impressed she was later and grinned impishly. Most of his uneasiness disappeared when he took the toddler with him, and he felt like he could take on the world now. Or at least the next half hour or so.

"Okay, back to the interview," the psychiatrist started, clicking her pen to take notes. She kept her voice soft for the kid's sake, giving Dick the impression she was reigning herself in. "So, you have an older girlfriend. How long has that been going on?"

Alfred looked over both his employer and his surrogate grandson when they made it back to the manor later than intended with some misgivings. Little Damian was excitable as ever, darting forward as soon as he was in the house again, and Richard was putting up a brave face that soon would be real when he met up with the others waiting for them in the heart of the house. Bruce was as stoic as ever, but small signs on his face told him enough. The two of them would be talking shortly before consulting the rest of the household.

"I see you took my advice and had a few hairs cut before returning home Master Richard," the butler said as greeting. The teen ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, both enjoying the feel and missing what he had. Considering his last haircut was seven months ago (his regularly scheduled one landed during his imprisonment) the uneasy feeling of losing that much hair was natural. "How did the session go?"

Dick shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing. "It was just a getting to know you thing this time. Nothing big. No big breakthroughs. Just learned that I'm really off my game with people right now. Where's everyone?"

"I believe they are all in the gym practicing, if you wish to join them." The lad lit up, thanked the man, and walked quickly upstairs to the others. As soon as he was gone, his father walked up to Alfred so they could talk. "How did it really go?"

"I need to do more research on Doctor Rosa Tolo."

"That goes without saying." Alfred looked his former charge in the eye critically. "I am asking how the session went, not what you think of his therapist."

"She wouldn't let me sit in," Bruce pouted. "Dick was incredibly anxious going in and after twenty minutes nearly bolted out of the room."

"After all he has been through, the need to run away to known grounds would be natural." He sighed to himself. "So it did not go well."

"Hard to tell." The man rubbed the back of his neck, massaging it to relieve some tension. "Dick could not settle down until one of us were in the room with him. Might be separation anxiety, might just be part of his PTSD. Damian had to be with him during the rest of the session to make sure he didn't rabbit."

"He does calm down when the younger ones are in sight," the butler admitted, starting towards the kitchen to start work on dinner. "Knowing they're safe works wonders on his psyche."

"While other things don't." Bruce followed after him, wanting to talk more. "He's still having panic attacks if the showerhead is on when he's bathing. I wanted to ask Dr. Tolo for advice, but at this point, I think we better keep that to ourselves. I don't know how much information we should trust her with."

"And you wonder why she did not let you sit in." Alfred's sarcasm wasn't lost on the man, but it didn't ease anything. "If you're the one telling her, then who is the one getting therapy?"

"My point exactly." He sighed heavily as he continued on. "If Dick can't feel comfortable talking about his new phobias, then there's little chance she can help him at all. All we managed to do today was get paperwork done and get her to agree to have Damian or one of the others sit in with Dick during his sessions."

That caught the old man's continued interest. "You managed to what?"

"Only until Dick's comfortable being on his own with strangers," Bruce amended quickly. "He needs someone with him, that's all. I'll talk to the others about it in a little bit, but I think, other than Jason they'll be fine with it. Tim and Cassandra are rather good at toning things out and keeping quiet."

"Indeed." Alfred thought about it for a moment as he traveled to the fridge to start taking out ingredients for dinner. All things considered, this arrangement might help more than just Master Richard. "Do you think it might be wise to let them participate more than in a supportive manner? We could use this opportunity to help certain young ones with their traumas."

His employer shifted at the thought, clearly having gotten the idea as well. He wasn't comfortable with it. "It might. If they're ready." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "One problem at a time I think. If this helps them, we might continue the sessions individually, but if this only complicates matters... We'll call this a trial basis, okay?"

"Fine by me." A coy look came upon the brit's face. "I am not the one visiting a psychiatrist after all. I just fill empty stomachs and drive the car."

Bruce grunted in agreement. The next year was going to be interesting.

A/N: So, how'd you like it? not perfect I know, but it works. It's a set up chapter. If you don't like Marshal Miller, don't worry too much, he'll come around. Already he's impressed with DIck's lovelife and let him get a much needed haircut. As for Dr. Tolo... well, you'll see. The kiddos are going to have their day with the shrink next time, and that'll lead to a few more bits of background and maybe a few future arcs. You'll have to see later. This chapter was a royal pain to do. XP oh well.

Tolo - Portuguese for fool. Just a detail for the future. Unless the name is a joke or a reference (I swear I've heard of a Dr. Pendergast somewhere...), rarely do I pick a name without meaning. Well, if they sound good, I'll go with that too. ;]