Warning for graphic self-harm.
Dick's tongue peeked out of his mouth as he focused, fingers smooth and steady around the warming grip of plastic.
His eyebrows knotted as he focused, biting his tongue in his attempt to produce perfect lines, perfect perfect perfect for inspection.
His lines blurred as liquid leaked from his canvas. He stuck his arm back under the freezing water of the sink.
Rubbed it mostly dry.
And pulled it back, to begin again.
The razor shifted into position in his hand as he raced to beat the stemming, resilient tide.
Questions were bad now, and not being cooperative was bad always and Daddy knew what Dick had to do when he was bad.
Dick resumed his punishment when the bathroom doorknob moved. Dick froze, eyes blowing wide. He forgot to lock the door.
Creak and wood and scrape and-
Damian's bright green eyes locked into his and everything e before Dick's hand slipped.
Too much blood. Oops, oops, oops. Damian made a choking noise before dashing forward, grabbing Dick's thin arm in both of his hands.
"Richard? No! Y-" Damian shoved Dick's arm under the water, already reaching for a towel to dry it off.
"Timothy! Timothy! Jason!"
Dick winced at the attention during the silence before Tim barreled into the room clutching a golf club of all things. Dick could not imagine why he would expect to go golfing in the bathroom, but apparently no one had expected him to do this in the bathroom so who was he to judge?
Tim's eyes widened, lowering the club. "Dick?"
"Drake, do not stand there like an idiot, help me bandage his arm! He needs stitches!"
"Jason!" Tim called, glancing beside him somewhere, and Dick heard footsteps running away, presumably to fetch stitching stuff and Tim ran forward to assess Dick's extended arm, unscrewing the cap to the liquid soap to pour it over Dick's arm, snatching toilet paper to wipe up his awful mess.
"I'm sorry?" Dick whispered, glancing away. "I didn't mean to be a problem. I'm sorry."
"How long has he been bleeding?" Tim demanded.
"I do not know when he started, but he only did that one about a minute ago."
"Sterile razor?"
Damian glanced down at Dick. "Was the razor clean?"
"...I used soap."
The two exchanged glances over Dick's head as Jason skidded back into the room, tossing Tim something Dick didn't really catch.
Dick didn't look up throughout their doctoring, feeling tears drip down off his nose and onto the floor, collecting into a puddle as things happened around him and people were busy and not-happy and madmadmad and Dick just didn't. Understand.
Dick shuddered, pursing his lips shut as tightly as they would go and tried to keep as quietquiet as possible.
He felt more than saw Jason move to his knees beside him, and when Jason pulled him close to his chest, Dick sobbed into his shoulder.