Notes: What is this? This was supposed to be a one-shot! ...*sighs* Anyway, I was rereading 'Just a Lie' and I'm going, hey, I could do this from Jason's point of view and fill in some of the blanks from when Dick freaks out. So, starting part-way through the previous chapter, this is part of this story - told from Jason's POV.

Just a Lie - Jason's POV

Jason stared at the bathroom door. The shower was running and Dick was inside. Normally, he wouldn't be worried but there had been something strange going on with Dick.

"Dick! Open up!" Tim cried out.

"Grayson! Stop hogging all the hot water!" Damian said. Neither of them would admit to being worried but when Dick hadn't responded to Tim's first inquiry, they had started calling things out and banging on the door.

Dick had been acting strange, that Batman-wannabe said something about nightmares, but the idea that he would ignore Tim and Damian when they were openly showing their worry was worrying Jason in turn. Dick would have opened the door by now, soothed them both with his presence, in the way only the 'Golden Child' could.

Jason sighed and walked over to the door. Tim and Damian naturally got out of his way as he called out that he was coming in.

He knocked the door in without hesitation. His shoulder stung and he took satisfaction in the broken lock. At least, until he spotted Dick.

His blood went cold and horror twisted in his heart.

Dick was standing over the sink, gagging himself on his finger as the room filled with steam.

"Dick? What the- what are you doing?" Jason cried out. He rushed forward and grabbed Dick's arms, pulling his hand out of his mouth. It was then he noticed the glazed over and wild look in Dick's eyes.

Dick's eyes were dancing around the room as he slid to the ground, hyperventilating.

"Dick?" Jason tried again, softer this time. Dick was already panicking and Jason didn't want to make this worse. Whatever 'this' was.

Jason watched in cold horror as Dick's hands drifted to his own throat and squeezed tight.

"Dick!" Curses. Now Jason was panicking too and it showed in his voice. He grabbed Dick's shoulders. "Look at me. Tell me, what's going on?"

Dick's eyes focused on him for only a moment before his head lolled and shook. It was like a 'no' but his head kept slowly moving, not stopping.

"Hold him still!" Tim ordered and Jason held tight as a needle was jabbed into Dick's arm. Over-prepared Tim apparently carried sedatives but no one was going to scold him for it right now.

Dick slumped forward. He rested, unconscious against Jason.

"What was that?" Jason questioned the room at large. He had to say something, his head refusing to process whatever it was. That Dick had... had... had Dick seriously just tried to choke himself?

It was then he noticed Tim's hands begin to tremble and he realised that both little Robins had seen the whole thing take place.

Jason sighed and heaved Dick's dead-weight of a body over his shoulder.

"Alright, I'll get him to bed, you guys clean up."

Jason placed Dick on the bed and pulled the covers over him. A moment later, a hand had slapped into his face. Even drugged, Dick was fighting. He rocked and rolled and hands and feet flew everywhere. Jason pulled the covers off, ready to hold Dick down if need be.

Dick dropped down into sleep, no longer moving.

"What the?" Jason questioned at the odd behaviour. He tried pulling the covers up over Dick again.

This time he ended up with a scratch down his upper arm. When Dick woke up, Jason was going to suggest he get his girlishly sharp nails cut.

A third time confirmed it. The problem seemed to be the covers. Jason sighed and left, getting a chair from outside the room. If Dick was still able to thrash around, then he was still able to hurt himself, even unconsciously.

Tim's head poked in, although he walked in after Damian stormed in.

"Is he alright?" Tim asked.

Jason didn't know how to answer that. "Just don't put the covers over him. Lashes out like an angry cat."

That simile made Damian smirk for a moment while Tim just looked pensive.

Jason was still in the chair when Dick's 'baby blues' opened a few hours later.

"You awake?"

Dick turned to look at him and Jason exhaled in relief when Dick looked at him, rather than on some undefined spot in the distance.

"That looks uncomfortable."

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Jason barked. They had come here for a quiet night and seen their older brother hurt himself. Dick flinched but he didn't care. He needed to know. "What's going on Dick?"

"Nothing." Liar.

"Don't lie to me. You tried to choke yourself. You passed out. You lashed out whenever we tried to put even the lightest of sheets over you."

Dick seemed horrified and baffled. "I tried to what? Is that even possible?"

Jason was angry that Dick was trying to distract him from the main problem. "You wrapped your own hands around your neck and squeezed. What else am I supposed to call it? Dick, what were you doing in the bathroom?"

"A shower?" Liar.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. However, Tim got suspicious and when you didn't respond to any of his or the brat's calls, I bashed the door down." He paused as he remembered. "You need a new bathroom door, by the way." Jason tried again. "What were you doing in there? Tell me."

"I was… There was something stuck in my throat." Liar.

"No, there wasn't." They would have noticed or Dick would have choked to death.

"It felt like there was." Dick's gaze seemed to slip past Jason as his hand drifted up to his throat.

Blood turned to ice in Jason's veins.

"Dick." Jason recoiled a little. "What's going on? This..." Was scaring him. Dick was scaring them.

"It doesn't matter." Still that distant gaze. Jason got angry. Anger was better than the worry coiling in his chest.

"There's something wrong with you-"

"And it doesn't matter-"

"What makes you think THAT?" Jason bellowed. "Why do you think you have to handle all this stupid stuff alone like... him?"

Dick didn't even seem phased. His eyes slid to the ceiling. "I wonder if Bruce dreams of-" he stopped, Jason's heart stopping in unison.

"What?" Jason was relieved as Dick's eyes locked onto him again. That relief was quashed a moment later as Dick opened his mouth.

"Do you dream of the times you've died?"

"What?"

"Do you dream of the times you've died? Does being locked in a room make you feel fire?"

This was not normal. Jason swore. Dick was going crazy. "Why are you asking this?"

Dick's response was quiet, "I do."

He did? What could Dick possibly imagine?

"You haven't died!" Jason growled at him. "Sure, you faked your death and funeral-"

"How?" a young voice demanded to know from the doorway. It caused both of them to jolt and stare at the door.

Seeing Damian standing there, Jason scolded the Replacement. Surely he knew better than to allow the kid into the room right now.

"I couldn't stop him," Tim said with a shrug as he and Damian entered the room. "And, honestly, we have a right to hear this."

"No. I don't see why you need to bother with this," Dick sighed. "They're just nightmares."

"Seems like more than 'nightmares' to me," Jason snorted. "And I don't get what Damian's asking anyway."

"Everyone seemed so certain Grayson died. Why? What happened?"

Dick paled. His eyes seemed to glaze over.

Tim swallowed and bravely spoke, worried about Dick's reaction. "Come to think about it; I don't know either. All I heard was the Crime Syndicate, the evil version of the Justice League from another world, unmasked him and killed him."

Jason thought about it. He hadn't heard about the event until afterwards. Bruce had told him, in a message left on his phone, that Nightwing had died in the line of duty. Alfred had called him back and Jason only went because it was Alfred asking.

"I have no idea," he finally admitted with a shrug.

"I survived so it doesn't matter," Dick reminded them.

Jason looked at Tim and Damian. They didn't agree.

"Apparently, it does," he snorted.

Tim was the best choice to ask the next question. He was the curious one. "Dick, what happened? Why was everyone so convinced you died?"

"Because, I was hooked up to a bomb and the only way to stop it was to stop my heart. Any attempts to remove me would have resulted in an instant explosion."

A bomb. Jason felt sick. He thought he could hear the 'beep, beep, beep' of a timer ticking down.

"But... but you got out?" Damian said. He was scared. Jason could see it and hear it. It was too late to get the kid to leave, he already knew too much.

Jason should have locked the door.

He tried to reassure them. "Yeah, Bruce probably had some kind of plan." Bruce always has a plan.

"I don't see how," Tim said. Jason glared at him and he immediately apologised.

"Tim's right. And wrong," Dick sighed. "There was a way to get me out."

"Stop your heart?" Tim questioned.

Dick nodded.

"You can't just stop someone's heart," Jason said in disbelief.

"There are formulas," Damian pointed out. "Of course, most of them lead to death anyway. You need someone on standby to revive you more often than not. And assassins have trouble finding someone they can trust to bring them back to life."

Jason took a moment to think. That was probably better than anything else they were thinking.

"Yeah, but Bruce wouldn't do that." He would never kill Dick, even if it was to be temporary.

"Bruce didn't. Lex Luthor did."

Lex Luthor? Jason remembered complaining about him… right before Dick had his panic attack. His heart stopped for a moment, body freezing as he recalled. Lex Luthor was part of the Justice League. Bruce had let Dick's killer into the Justice League! What was he thinking?

Jason took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. He couldn't get angry at Dick. If anything, Dick should be the one getting angry.

"How?" he asked, feeling sick to his stomach.

Dick swallowed twice times before answering. "He shoved a tablet into my mouth and forced me to swallow it."

"And you let him?" Dick wouldn't just stand around and let someone kill him. Nightwing was a fighter, just like the rest of them.

"I couldn't move. It was a struggle to just move my head while attached to the bomb."

Dick had been tethered to a bomb, unable to leave, knowing that it would be his life or thousands of lives and had to stay there as someone killed him with a chemical.

It brought up bad memories. Dick hadn't been held in a warehouse. He probably hadn't been beaten… Jason hoped he hadn't been beaten.

Where had Bruce been? Why was Bruce letting Dick's killer walk free?

Jason needed to hit something. He stormed out and kicked a chair before banging his hand on the counter.

"Ow!" he cursed as his hand throbbed with pain.

He cursed again, ignoring the stinging at the corner of his eyes.

Dick wasn't supposed to die in a room with a bomb and no way out. Dick wasn't supposed to. He wasn't supposed to come back either.

"NOW!" The bark of an order worked its way into Jason's dreamland.

"Dick?" The eldest was curled up against the wall, breathing heavily. Damian was kneeling on the bed, looking downcast. "What's wrong?"

"I couldn't move."

"Why?"

"It's just something that's been happening," Dick responded. "I don't like… being pressed down while sleeping."

"Huh?" Was this like the sheet covers thing? Because Jason still needed some kind of apology for when Dick-the-unconscious-cat scratched him.

"I woke in the bomb, trap, machine, whatever you want to call it. They knocked me out and I woke in it. Unable to move." Dick was breathing shallow breaths, looking pale.

"Okay, calm down." Jason winced. That was the stupidest thing to say. Who calmed down when told to? It seemed Dick agreed with him, judging by the look he shot at him.

"You've got to sleep," Tim said. "How often have you been sleeping lately?" Jason wondered the same about Tim. But, at least Tim didn't seem to be having night terrors.

"Uh…"

Jason rolled his eyes. Of course Dick wouldn't have any idea. He was starting to understand where all the freak-outs were coming from. Dick was probably dead on his feet from lack of sleep.

How had they not noticed?

"Exactly. And the human body needs sleep."

"Human," Dick mused with the far-off gaze. At least his eyes seemed clear as he continued, "can I be Kryptonian then?"

"Ugh, don't let Bruce hear that," Jason groaned. Why would anyone want to be like Superman? Wonder Woman was better.

"Why would you want to be one of those… aliens?" Damian demanded to know.

"You'd still need sleep," Tim pointed out. "The human body can only last so long without sleep. Actually, it's probably why your reactions are escalating-"

"Get back in bed," Jason ordered Dick. He agreed with Tim but he didn't need Tim explaining everything. They all knew how lack of sleep affected the human body. Sadly, most of that came from experience.

There was that glazed look again. Jason wondered if even the thought of climbing into bed was starting to affect his brother. Unsurprisingly, Dick didn't move.

Jason sighed. If Dick didn't want the bed, he would take it. Even if it came with two annoying brothers.

"Take the mattress. Not as comfy but no little birds looking for cuddles in it."

Dick focused on him and Jason really hoped to never see that glazed look again. He knew it was probably a vain hope though.

"Are you sure?" Dick asked.

"Go to bed, Dick!" Jason ordered as he climbed into the spot Dick had left in the bed. Ugh. It was warm from Dick's body heat. Jason pointed to the mattress. He wasn't going to sleep until Dick was lying down in bed.

Dick slowly climbed onto the mattress, half-way to sleep as he lay down.

Jason decided this was good enough. With a contented nod, he flopped face-down and started snoring.