"Leslie!" Wally hollered as he burst through the door.
"Wally, I'm fine now, put me down. And quiet down. No sense waking the dead," Dick reprimanded.
Wally reluctantly set his friend down as a woman came through the door. She was tall, thin, with salt and pepper hair, a white coat, and thin-framed glasses sitting on her nose.
"Wally, Richard, I didn't expect to see you here. Why don't you both come back to my office," Dr. Leslie said motioning them to follow her.
As they followed the doctor, Wally kept close to Dick so he could catch him if he fell again. When they reached the room, both boys sat and Dr. Leslie pulled out her clipboard.
"Alright boys, what's going on?" Dr. Leslie asked studying them both with critical eyes.
"Ummm, I've relapsed," Dick answered quietly.
"You're struggling with anorexia again?" Dr. Leslie asked for confirmation.
"And bulimia this time around," Dick answered hesitantly.
"Thank you for telling me, Richard. How long have you been struggling?"
"A little over a month," Dick answered quietly as a tear slipped down his pale face.
"Alright, how many calories are you eating a week?" Dr. Leslie asked as she started to scribble down notes.
"800 on a good week," Dick answered. Wally finally got his lips to close together and slipped a comforting arm around his friend who had started trembling.
"Alright, and how many times are you throwing up a day?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"At least once a day. Sometimes as much as four times a day," Dick answered his voice trembling.
"Are you still taking your medications, Richard?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"I-I try, honest I try," Dick answered softly.
"That's good, Richard. How many days per week are you able to take your medications on average?"
"3 times a week," Dick answered.
"Okay, and on days when you don't take them, what stops you?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"Sometimes I'm so busy I forget and by the time I remember I'd rather just fall asleep. Sometimes, I forget to take them on missions with me. Sometimes, I feel like I'm weak for taking them and want to be able to live without them. Sometimes, I wait to get them refilled until the very last minute, and then I have to wait a couple of days until they can finally get the prescription filled," Dick confessed.
"Thank you for telling me, Richard. Have you still been seeing your therapist?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"No, I got to the point where he said he wasn't doing that much for me and that it was a waste of my money. Then when I started to feel myself struggling again, I...I didn't want to reach out again," Dick confessed.
"Okay Richard, was there something in particular that triggered it?"
"M-my friends, and brother...they made some jokes. They should-should've been harmless, but I-I guess it just happened to trigger it. I'm sorry," Dick answered.
"Don't apologize, Richard. You have nothing to be sorry for. You know I have to bring Mr. Wayne in on this don't you?" Leslie informed him.
"Oh, please, please Leslie. You can't! He'll kick me out! He'll disown me! I need him! I can't live without him! Please don't tell him!" Dick pleaded frantically.
Wally took this one, he wrapped his friend in a hug and soothed, "Dick, that's not true. Bruce loves you. He's not going to kick you out. He's not going to disown you. He loves you as much as you love him if not even more. You're his son. He's going to want to help you! He's going to want to see you healthy and well. Just like I do, just like all your friends would. Dick, this does not make you weak or any less of a person. He needs to know so that he can help you."
Dick wiped his eyes as Dr. Leslie said, "That's excellently said, Wally. Now, is there anything you need to tell me, Wally?"
"What? No, I'm fine?" Wally answered nervously.
"Really?" Dr. Leslie asked skeptically giving him a pointed look before continuing. "You have circles under your eyes so dark they make bruises look mild. And you're trembling, from fatigue."
It was Dick's turn to look at his friend with shock. "Umm...well, I guess when you put it that way I haven't been sleeping so well," Wally stammered.
"How many hours do you get a week?" Dr. Leslie asked casually.
"Umm...maybe an average of 21 hours a week," Wally answered.
"Okay, are you having trouble falling asleep or staying asleep?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"Both, ma'am," Wally answered.
"Thank you for telling me, Wally. What's keeping you up when you can't fall asleep?" Dr. Leslie asked.
"Memories," Wally answered.
"Memories of what?" Dr. Leslie pushed.
"Do I have to tell you?" the boy asked.
Dick grabbed his friend's hand, "Wally, Dr. Leslie can help you, but not if she doesn't know what you need help with. I care about you, Wally. I can't stand to think that you're having a hard time sleeping. Sleep is essential. Please, let us help you."
"Beforemyparentsdiedtheywouldhurtme," Wally spit out his speed affecting his speech like it always did when he was nervous.
"Alright, Wally, can you try that again a little slower," Dr. Leslie asked gently.
"Before my parents died they would hurt me," Wally answered again his gaze fixed on his hands folded tightly in his lap.
"Thank you for telling me, Wally," Dr. Leslie said before gently prying, "And Wally, what keeps you from staying asleep?"
"Nightmares," Wally answered feeling pathetic.
"Wally, does Barry know? Did you tell anyone? I never had any idea. I'm so sorry, Wally?" Dick said understanding now why his friend was always flinching and there was always underlying fear in his eyes.
"Dick," Leslie reprimanded gently, "Wally, have you ever gotten treatment, seen a psychologist for what your parents did to you?" Leslie asked.
Wally shook his head vehemently as he answered, "No one knows, I intended to take this secret to the grave. I'd gotten over my fear. Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris have been great. There's been no reason to fear. But, the n-nine-year-old, she-it brought up a lot of memories apparently and I just haven't been handling it well apparently."
"Oh, Wally, I'm sorry I never knew. You shouldn't have felt like you couldn't talk about it. I'm here for you, Barry loves you, hell even Bruce loves you, Wallman. We can help you if you let us," Dick said as he wrapped his friend in a very gentle hug.
"Alright, boys, thank you very much for coming to me. It's very good you did. I'm going to call your guardians now. You two just wait here. And do try not to worry too much," Dr. Leslie said reassuringly as she headed out of the room.
When the doctor left, the friends turned to each other.
"You've had this eating disorder thing before?" Wally asked.
"Yeah, it started after my parents died when I was in the circus. You have to stay light to do the trapeze, I was hurting from the death of my parents, and people's comments were...really hard. I actually met Dr. Leslie and started treatment a little before Bruce found me and took me in. As far as I know, Bruce never knew anything," Dick admitted.
"So, you got better," Wally asked.
"Yeah, I was almost completely better shortly before I met you. It was I think about a year after I met you that I finished my work with the psychologist," Dick answered.
"But some comments have been making things worse?" Wally asked.
"Yeah, Damian keeps making comments about me needing to lay off the cookies, joking that I'm fat and useless. Some of the team make jokes about not going overboard at the dinner table, that kind of stuff. It's harmless enough jokes, but for some reason, they set me off this time," Dick said with a shrug. "What about you? Your parents hurt you pretty bad?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, it wasn't so bad. My dad knocked me around now and then. They'd put out cigarette butts on me or whatever. Throw shit at me, beer bottles were always the worst. A few times my dad took a belt to me. But then they died, and I got to live with Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris so, it's really been pretty good," Wally said.
"I'm sorry they did that to you, Wally. You didn't deserve that. If they weren't already dead, I think I would kill them. How come you never used to flinch before?" DIck asked casually.
"Oh, I did sometimes, but I knew it would make people worry and honestly I just never gave my parents much thought," Wally admitted.
"But then the little girl. She was going to kill herself because her family has been hurting her?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, it brought up a lot of memories about my own family and they've been...well, it's been all I can think of. Sometimes my dad is all I see. It's all I think about ever," Wally admitted.
"We're quite the pair aren't we," the boys said in unison before they laughed.