Robin one shot part 3!

Side Effects pt 2

"What do you mean?"

"I was just talking to you on a rooftop and now I'm in some apartment and there are pictures of us but we're older now and I'm totally ripped but also what the fuck why do they exist?" he rambled.

"Dick, how old are you?"

"Fourteen." There was a sigh at the other end of the phone followed by some rustling. "Babs?"

"You're not fourteen. You're twenty-four. The apartment you're in is yours. I'll explain more when I get there but keep calm okay? I can stay on the phone if you want?" He shook his head. How could he be twenty-four? There was no way. The man in the photo was him but how? Why was this happening? How could he blank out ten years? "Deep breaths Dick. You're gonna be okay."

"I don't like this." He felt his chest get tighter and tighter as more questions flooded his mind. His mouth was as dry as a desert and his erratic breathing wasn't helping. Things his mind hadn't really thought of before were now sticking out like a sore thumb. His arms had more scars, his feet were bigger, his body ached, he was further off the ground, and hair was tickling his neck. He squeezed his eyes closed so he could stop it all from going in. 

"I know it's hard. You've gone through this before and you've always gotten through it." He didn't reply but she didn't hang up on him. "Take a deep breath with me. Can you do that?"

"I think," he whimpered.

"Okay, deep breath in 1...2...3...4...5 and now we'll hold it for 1...2...3...4...5...6 and now we'll let it all go 1...2...3....4...5...6...7." He did as instructed, his breath hitching and his body involuntarily gasping. "It's okay. Just do that ten times. You'll feel much better." He kept working through it and honed in on everything coming through Barbara's side. There was a car door slam and something muffled. There wasn't much going on but he didn't mind that. It was nice just focusing on that. Like when he played music quietly to take his mind off things. He could concentrate on the beat, on the lyrics, pretty much everything and anything that made it a song. "There you go, great job. I'm almost there." He hummed and just listened. That was all he really could do.

It didn't take long for Barbara to arrive at his apartment and she stayed on the phone with him right until she opened his door with her spare key. He almost wondered if she'd gotten the key for when this situation happened. How many times had it happened? Barbara smiled at him sympathetically as she closed the door behind her. Dick had made his way to the couch where he'd pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. 

"Hey Dickie," she greeted, locking the door before going to sit beside him. "How're you feeling?"

"Aside from everything going on, fine. I mean, I'm not dying at least. Just freaking out a little. A lot," he replied, his voice shaky. She hummed and put a hand on his arm for comfort. "How could this happen?"

"Two big-league baddies decided to fiddle with your inner workings. They messed with your head and made you forget everything then manipulated you. Happened twice back to back," she explained.