October 16, evening

The flight home had been, unsurprisingly, very quiet. Not long after getting seated and making sure neither Danny nor Cujo would mess with the tech on accident, the overall mood dimmed significantly. The adrenaline wore off pretty fast once they were in a safe location, causing both boys' moods to crash rapidly. Bruce hadn't said a word, not trying any more attempts to keep it light as even he knew their eventual downturn was inevitable. It couldn't stay all smiles and happy tears all the time.

Not after everything that happened.

After landing in the Batcave, it only got worse. The boys got out first, greeted by Alfred as the elderly gentleman awaited them with a soft smile. "Good evening, young masters. I do hope you had a pleas- oh my." Alfred cut himself off with a small gasp as Batman also exited the jet. He eyed the boys, their heads hung in shame as they avoided the man's gaze. Neither of them looked up as they silently walked over to the changing rooms.

Locking eyes with Batman's masked ones instead, the hero glared softly. There was no actual malice behind it, never when it's Alfred, but it was enough to make his displeasure known. The air felt heavy, their staring match helping nobody as they both stood their grounds against the other's stare. Neither men saying anything as they waited for the twins to finish up their showers and getting dressed.

"We will talk about this," Batman stated firmly, breaking the silence as he nodded over to the boys who walked out now in some comfortable sweats. "But first, we need to set up Danny's room." As Batman headed off to the BatComputer, Alfred led the twins upstairs.

It was quite eerie, he remarked to himself, how the usually quite lively pair were so quiet. He led them straight to the kitchen, a small yet hearty meal already prepared as the man had predicted they'd come home after training. Never would he have guessed they would come back together with Batman however. That in and of itself amplified his gut feeling of something having gone horribly wrong.

They both took a seat at the counter rather than the main table, sitting as close as the chairs would allow them to. Their gaze remained downcast, not even looking up as the man offered them a plate of sandwiches and a light soup. They didn't make a move to start eating, simply staring at the food as Alfred handed Danny his usual medication.

It was only after Alfred placed an encouraging hand on Danny's shoulder that the boy finally spoke. "I...Sorry Alfred, I'm not really hungry." His eyes only briefly ticked up, not even looking for long enough that Alfred could read his expression before wild bangs covered his gaze again.

Glancing over to Dick's plate, it didn't seem like either were too open to the idea of food at the moment. Still, with how pale they looked, he didn't want to leave them before he at least witnessed one singular bite. "Please, young master. Do try to manage a few bites, if only so you may take your medication." He tried to keep his voice gentle, years of practice nearly worthless as he looked at the lifeless boys before him. If anything, it was most imperative that Danny ate something. Both for his overall recovery and so he wouldn't be taking his medication on an empty stomach.

Shaking slightly, Danny reached over for his brother's hand. His stomach turned looking at the food, already knowing it won't sit well later. Dick met his in the middle, giving Danny a tight squeeze before they each reached for a sandwich. They managed a few, painstakingly slow, bites between their sandwich and soup as Alfred finished cleaning up the kitchen. Danny paused his eating, putting down his spoon to switch it out for the cup of medication Alfred had left next to him.

Dick paused as well, glancing over at Danny with a lot more caution than he had previously observed between the pair. Alfred could tell Dick knew something wouldn't go well. Chalking it up to a special twin connection, he patiently waited as Danny stared at the medication with dread all over his face.

Ever so slowly, as if debating the need for the medication at all, Danny brought the cup to his mouth. He didn't swallow, however. He never did when he already had a bad feeling about it. First filling up his mouth with plenty of water and then tilting his head back helped most of the times. His eyes were squeezed shut nearly as hard as he was gripping onto Dick's hand. He could feel the pills move around in his mouth. Frostbite's medication always floated to the top, bumping into the roof of his mouth. The extra vitamins Alfred wanted him to take always sank down, resting on the back of his tongue before he swallowed.

Nearly as fast as the pills went down his throat, he shot forward. A hand covered his mouth as his gag reflex triggered in protest of swallowing anything else. Danny sat leaning forward, gagging a couple more times, letting Dick dab away the water that violently made its way out of his nose as well as the tears that formed, before the pills finally decided to stay down.

The entire time Dick stayed by his side, squeezing his hand back as if it wasn't nearly being crushed. They were both getting used to Danny's reaction to needing to take the meds Frostbite gave him. Sure, this was a more extreme reaction than the previous times, but unfortunately pills were the best option. Not only because they were easier to store and carry around, but because they'd get a lot more odd looks if it were shots. So, until they found a better option, suffering with pills it was.

Danny breathed out shakily, a shudder running down his spine as he felt the pills slide down his throat and actually stay down this time. He sat back up in his chair, no longer interested in even looking at the food as he softly pushed the plate out of his direct line of sight. His gaze focused back onto his lap, sniffling every now and again as the remaining moisture bothered his airways.

Dick also sat back straight, slowly returning back to eat a few meager bites before he too gave up on the meal. Much like Danny, his gaze lowered down again. The most movement from either boy was coming from Dick's thumb rubbing circles on the back of Danny's hand.

Alfred held back a sigh. Even if he tallied up their small bites it didn't even cover half of their already smaller than usual portion. But, at least they had something. Counting it as a win, he announced he'll return shortly after preparing Danny's room. He didn't have many hopes for when he returned half an hour later but seeing they had managed a few extra bites was better than he expected.

He escorted them both upstairs, not even surprised when Cujo finally materialized next to Danny. Under usual circumstances he would have warned against letting the canine on the bed, but these were neither usual circumstances nor a usual animal. Forgoing the explanation of which room is where, knowing full well Dick had shown him before, they finally made it to the bedrooms. Danny's was right across from Dick's, on the other side of Bruce's master bedroom. Though the chances of Bruce actually getting some sleep in there were slim, there was hope that the idea of him being close in spirit would be comforting enough.

Both of them were excused from patrol, left alone to rest and recover.

Though none of either happened.

Sleep hadn't come easy for Danny. The ever present pressure in his chest keeping him just uncomfortable enough that it was nigh impossible to drift off peacefully. Unfortunately for him, what awaited him in the realm of dreams was neither comfortable nor peaceful either.

The first time he woke up, he made a dash for the en suite bathroom. Making it just in time before what little he managed to eat earlier came back out. Cujo stuck by him the entire time, letting Danny cry silently as he struggled to pick himself back up from the bathroom floor.

The next time he woke up, he had felt himself fall. Fall as he failed to carry Dick away from the power core before the bombs went off. Cracking an eye open, he found Cujo holding onto his shirt as he floated halfway through the flooring underneath his bed. He tried tapping into his powers to lift himself up again and onto the bed, only for a sharp pain to stab him in the chest again. Ice accidentally shot out from his hands, freezing the floor around him. Though it was an uncomfortable feeling to put it lightly, at least he wasn't drifting between floorboards anymore.

With a final push, Cujo managed to pull him back onto the bed. Having his boy solid enough to not fall through the bed or the floor again, Cujo helped him over to the bathroom once more. The pain in Danny's chest was so overwhelming, he was mostly dry heaving with a few mouthfuls of bile and stomach acid in between.

Cujo refused to not be in direct contact with Danny anymore. Nuzzling into the boy's chest underneath his shirt, the pup kept a constant pressure over the worst of Danny's pains. A comforting heat radiated from the pup's body, urging Danny to hold him closer as he fought against the pull of unconsciousness.

He knew he needed to sleep, needed to rest. But it was no use if he kept waking up barely half an hour later. At this rate he might as well camp out on the bathroom floor to save himself and Cujo the effort.

He couldn't even call these things nightmares. Nightmares are just scary scenarios the brain makes up. Nightmares aren't real.

But this?

These were just memories. Memories of a world that doesn't exist, of a fight that doesn't exist, but both his mind and soul remember deeply. Though it was just a simulation, it felt every bit real in the moment. Every smell, every sound, every touch, it was all real to him. Just as real as his willingness to give his life to save others. Like he should have done before.

But none of the people he saved were real. The sacrifice was for naught, the people he failed still not compensated for his own failures. If anything, it was just another failure to tally onto the list. An ever-growing list of people he failed, now also including the brother he had cursed to die alongside him.

Danny shot back up, the deep stabbing pain in his chest overwhelming his pain receptors enough he forgot how to breathe. Grasping at his chest, he nearly clawed through the fabric of his shirt. He tried so desperately to hold onto the pain, hoping that holding it would lessen the hurt, but even phasing his hand inside his chest did nothing to stop it.

Cujo whined, nudging Danny's arm out of his chest again. Growing into his hound form, he dropped his massive head on Danny's chest. Providing the much needed pressure Danny had been craving to have. It didn't do as much as he had hoped but it was better than before. Cujo curled around his favorite boy, careful to keep his head on Danny's chest as he moved his body to support Danny's back as well. His boy was growing weak, barely able to sit up on his own from exhaustion and pain.

They sat there for a moment, waiting until the pain subsided enough for Danny's nervous system to kick into gear again and allow him to breathe. Nearly being fully lifted up by Cujo, Danny shakingly tried to stand. Being almost entirely supported by the hound, Danny slowly stumbled his way towards the door. Not even trying himself, he felt Cujo's comforting heat spread across him as they phased through the door.

Danny stood in front of Dick's door, knocking softly as Cujo shoved his head through the door to check if Dick was asleep. Feeling the warmth spread over him once more, Danny figured his brother had given Cujo the go ahead to help him inside.

Though he feels bad about it, it was rather comforting to see Dick in just as miserable of a state as he was. At least he wasn't alone in his suffering, not when he had his brother back by his side.

Words weren't even needed as Dick scooted over to the side, making enough space for Danny and Cujo to get in as well. Cujo waited for Danny to get in first, supported by his brother, before climbing up behind the pair. Once more he became their pillow. His tail laid on Dick's lap as his head rested next to Danny's. With his body curled around the pair like a comforting croissant, he kept his eyes trained towards the door.

Though staying together helped a considerate amount, it did nothing to chase away the memories haunting their dreams. Either one of them would still startle awake every so often, each time more drained than the time before. If either of them required a trip to the bathroom, they didn't say anything as they, or Cujo, helped the other walk.

It wasn't even that they'd scream to wake the other up, that was something they grew out of years ago. There were only so many nights the guards at the juvenile detention center would tolerate their frightened screams in the middle of the night. No, they had grown too accustomed to staying quiet. They could just tell the other wasn't okay, sleep light enough the smallest movement out of place was enough to wake them.

It was right after their most recent unpleasant wake up that soft scratches sounded from Dick's door before it slightly opened. Not wanting to worry whoever came to check on them, they both stayed still. They laid facing each other so only Dick could try and steal a glance at the person in the doorway. He tried cracking an eye open to see who it was but Cujo's head blocked the view. Whoever it was, they were smart enough to not tempt the hound into a defensive stance. After a few more tense seconds, and a huff from Cujo, the door slowly closed again.

They remained still for a few breaths more, both to see if the person would come back and to see if darkness would overtake them once more.

Neither option happened.

No matter their exhaustion, sleep didn't carry them off to their next torturous setting. Giving up on the idea of staying in the dark, Dick reached behind him to pull his laptop off of his nightstand. Thankful for the adaptive brightness setting, his eyes didn't burn quite as badly as the screen jumped to life. Setting it between them, he motioned for Danny to choose.

Danny didn't react at first, looking rather zoned out as his gaze stayed transfixed on the bottom of Dick's bedroom door. Placing a hand on Danny's shoulder, he finally snapped out of his daze. "Sorry, I can hear them arguing." He whispered softly, voice barely audible enough.

Dick didn't even bother to ask what they were saying, not wanting to make Danny listen to it any longer. Judging from the look in his brother's eye, he'd wager a fair guess it was about Danny and the simulation. Pulling both their attention back to the laptop, Dick let Danny scroll around until he landed on the Paddington trilogy. Before long, the room filled with the soft murmurs of the movies, effectively drowning out the voices of the others below.

It helped. Not with keeping the horrific imagery at bay every time they closed their eyes, but with what they got to open their eyes back up to. With cozy movies playing, and Cujo providing them both with a comforting heat, sleep slowly became more manageable. Neither of them complained when the sun started to come up, taking whatever uninterrupted sleep they could manage as nobody came to wake them up.