lifeingeneral: Bird in a Cherry Tree (Default)
[personal profile] lifeingeneral
Title: Psychogenesis (03/??)
Rating: PG-13 (for Robins crazy butt)
Pairings/Characters: All of Young Justice, Batman, Leslie Thompkins. Eventual SB/Robin.
Warnings: Violence, River!Robin, Experimentation on Kids…
Summary: Robin is experimented on and is now messed up in the brainpan. Full prompt can be found here!

A/N: This is a major overhaul of the third chapter I had originally posted at the anonmeme. Nothing is remotely even the same here. I hated what I had posted at the anonmeme but I wanted to get something posted and so I plowed through and wrote something subpar and not to my liking and I regret it because after that my muse left and I pretty much abandoned the story. But a year later my muse came back and well, slowly I'm getting this story finished. Doesn't help that I have like 5 stories started for YJ and a Arrow story in the mix. My muse is an oddball like that. Anywho, enough ranting, please enjoy this new chapter and ignore any medical lingo that sounds off, because it probably is...

"The removal of the amygdala, as best as I can tell, was to likely inhibit his reactions to the environment around him." Dr. Obaid took a deep breath before he continued. "Most probably environments that would cause a heightened sense of fear, mind you. The amygdala, Mr. Wayne, is basically an alarm system for our body. It processes a perceived threat based on previous knowledge and situations and alerts the hypothalamus if we need to run or fight. If the amygdala is missing we no longer have the fore thought to think before acting in a dangerous, or frightening, situation. Quite a remarkable little piece of matter, isn't it?"

The look of elation on the doctors face rubbed Bruce the wrong way. It reminded him of a child who just found a shiny new toy to play with; it left him feeling uneasy. "I understand the workings of the fight or flight response, Doctor."

Dr. Obaid huffed a laugh and nodded. "Yes, of course, pardon me. What I mean to say is, well... There is currently a study being done on a woman known as SM in the scientific community who has a problem much like Richard's. She has no amygdala. Though hers was damaged due to lesions, the same principles apply."

"Meaning?" Bruce calmly questioned.

"Simply? You will have to keep an eye on young Richard. He's old enough that he should recognize emotions, he might not be able to differentiate them, but he should still be able to understand them logically. The amygdala is a processing center, not just for emotions, but for social situations as well. So don't be surprised if he doesn't catch onto social cues as well as he did before. It may take time but I am sure Richard can adjust and relearn. There are a few medications I can prescribe that might help balance his emotional state but beyond just keeping a watchful eye on the child, I am not sure what more I can do for him."

Bruce started to stand but Leslie Thompkins, who had been standing a few feet behind him, placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. "Thank you for your time and consideration, Dr. Obaid. I'm sure you have other patients to see to."

"Yes, of course, always a pleasure, Dr. Thompkins." With a quick nod of the head the balding doctor left the small office.

"So that's it then? We just watch him!? I refuse to accept that there isn't something out there! Something that we missed, some treatment we haven't explored! We can't just leave him like this!" Bruce sucked in a deep breath to calm his frustration. There had to be something. He wasn't going to let Dick suffer through anymore than he already had.

"Bruce..." Leslie started as she knelt down in front of him and laid a soothing hand on his knee. "I know this is hard but you need to be strong. Both for you and for Dick. He needs his family right now, he needs someone, to put it plainly, to be his buffer ." With a kind smile and a pat to the knee, Leslie stood and made her way to the desk that occupied the small room.

Bruce ran a hand through his unkempt hair before asking the question he was dreading the answer to. "What about his hallucinations?"

Leslie rested her head on top of her folded hands, the elderly doctor parted her lips to speak before clearing her throat instead to give her a few more, much needed, seconds to gather her thoughts. "Yes, about them. Something, I'm afraid, I left out in our consultation with our dear neurologist." Leslie shifted various papers across her desk until she found the one she was looking for. "I had a psychiatrist look over Dicks medical profile and from what we've discussed, Dick is most likely suffering from Undifferentiated Schizophrenia, for lack of a better diagnosis."

"Dick isn't Schizophrenic." Bruce glared at Leslie, Dick wasn't schizophrenic, the kid was stressed and in shock from the situation but otherwise fine.

"Bruce, you must understand the amount of trauma Dick has been through physically and mentally. I am truly amazed he's not comatose as it stands. And, we're not saying he is but that this is the best we could diagnosis him with to get him the help he needs. I can't just prescribe medications as I see fit! I have to have medical reasoning behind why I give my patients their medications!" Setting the paper down, Leslie removed her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "I promise we're trying our best but honestly, this is just above everyone's pay grade."

Slipping her glasses back on, Leslie looked at Bruce with tired eyes. "I have a conference call in a few minutes, why don't you go and get something to eat and freshen up a bit? You look like something my cat brought in."

With a curt nod, Bruce stood and left the room. He made his way down the hall away from the offices and back towards the main hub of the hospital. As he reached the elevators he stared at them for a moment before glancing down at his watch.

6:27pm glared up at him in digital block lettering. He had enough time to check on Dick before he headed out for the night. And he really needed to go out tonight and hit something before all the frustration that was pent up inside of him burst out and inflicted the wrong persons. With a sigh, Bruce ran a hand through his hair before jabbing the up button on the elevator.


Robin looked up from his supper tray just in time to see Wally snatch a handful of Cheetohs from Artemis. He stared fascinated by his friends antics as Artemis pursed her lips and punched the poor red head on the shoulder with a shout of Get your own!

The speedster hung dejectedly over the back of the blue bedside chair, green eyes pleading with the blond. "But Artemis, I have to run all the way back home tonight you don't want me running on empty do you?"

Robin glanced back down at his tray before looking back towards Wally. "It tastes like ashes and smells like fungus, but plenty for two."

Artemis grinned, taking her time to slowly chew a few more cheesy morsels while stating. "Yeah, why don't you share Dick's ashy-fungal hospital food with him?"

"Ack, nah bro, it's all good! You look like you need the nutrients more than me!" The green tinge to Wally's face had Artemis cackling.

Robin poked at his rice with his fork. "Food is different here, not an enjoyment but a job."

Artemis blinked at the statement and quickly shoved her bag of Cheetohs towards the raven haired teen. "Here, puffs of heaven covered in cheesy trans-fatty goodness."

Robin sniffed the brightly colored bag before taking it from Artemis. He shoved a few Cheetohs into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before he leaned back onto the pillows of the hospital bed to finish the rest of the bags contents.

"No fair." Wally whined as he rested his cheek on the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry, how old are you again? Two?" Questioned Artemis while she leaned her head back to stare at the red head.

Wally just stuck his tongue out in reply before heaving himself off the back of the chair and making his way to sit on the end of Robin's bed. "Dick, man, you wouldn't let your poor best friend starve would you?"

"You wouldn't starve, you would die of dehydration first." Robin stated reaching for the mug of water on the bedside table and held it towards Wally.

The red head raised an eyebrow at the offering and after a glance towards Artemis, who was trying her best to cover her laughter with a cough, took the proffered mug. "Thaaanks."

Robin nodded and replied, "Welcome."

The room descended into a long silence after that. Wally and Artemis both had various questions running through their minds that they wanted to ask but neither were sure how to appropriately voice them. Both of them were to afraid they would cause undue strain to their friend.

Robin surprised the two of them though when he set the empty bag of cheese puffs down and announced. "They wanted me to see without my eyes."

"What?" Artemis choked out, staring at the raven haired teen with wide eyes.

Robin looked at her, forehead wrinkled in misunderstanding. "You wanted to know what happened?"

Wally cleared his throat and fidgeted. "Dick, we don't, that is, man, you don't have to talk about it. You know, if you don't want to."

The two teens watched as Robin seemed to struggle with something for a few moments before he seemed to come to some sort of agreement with himself. "Talking helps, makes it easier to think."

"Well, hey..." Robin looked towards Artemis as she spoke and noticed the girl was shifting in her seat. "Whatever you need, Kiddo. That's what friends are for."

Wally nodded in agreement. "If talking about whatever the crazy creeper mad scientist types did helps, then we'll be more than happy to lend an ear."

Robin parted his lips and took a deep breath, about to speak, when a knock to the hospital door had him turning instead. "Bruce?"

"Hey, Chum." And as an afterthought, Bruce added, "Artemis, Wally. "

Wally grinned and waved energetically. "Hey, Mr. Wayne."

Artemis just gave a half hearted wave in greeting before standing and stretching. "It's getting late, we should probably get going. See you tomorrow. Come on, Motor Mouth."

Wally sighed at the nick name mumbling a, 'yeah, yeah' as Artemis left the room. Hefting himself up from the bed, he turned towards Robin. "I'll talk to you later, man." At Robin's nod, Wally left the hospital room, wishing Bruce a quick g'night on his way out the door.

An awkward silence fell upon the room as Bruce slowly made his way from the door to the bedside chair.

"You want words..." Robin started, his face scrunched up as he tried to manage his thoughts in a way that he could easily convey; but, the words that had come to him so easily before with Artemis and Wally, seemed to evade him now. In the end, he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have them."

"Understandable." Bruce stated as he dropped down into the chair. "Everything is still confusing, I'd imagine."

Robin Shrugged. "Meds help some."

"But it doesn't make it any better." Bruce whispered in frustration before scrubbing his face with his hands. He was out of his depth here. He was beginning to realize this wasn't something he could fix with money or swift threats of bodily harm. He was a stranger in unknown territory with nothing to guide him but the hopes of Leslie and the addled words of his son.

Robin cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes in concentration."It''s hard for you?"

Bruce looked up towards Dick, a refute on the tip of his tongue."Dick-"

"You found me broken and it's hard for you." Robins blue eyes grew stormy, his concentration was starting to wear. The emotions rolling through him were making the silence inside scream.

"Dick, I-"

"But, I'm trying to piece Dick back together... but he just keeps getting in the way!" Robin threw the covers off himself and drew his knees to his chest. "No one wants him, he remembers too much! And some of it's made up, and some of it can't be quantified, and there's secrets, and voices, and there's always screaming!" The teen curled over his knees, rocking back and forth, while his calloused hands pulled tightly at his hair as if trying to rip something from himself.

"Dick!" Bruce shot forward his larger hands quickly overtaking the teens smaller ones. "It's.. alright, calm down. No one's screaming."

"Of course they aren't, it won't let them!" Robin shouted in frustration. "They want to move but they can't!"

Bruce took a deep breath and quickly hit the call light before running a hand up and down the smaller teens back in an inane attempt at comfort. "Dick you need to calm down. Whatever's going on right now is not real, you know that."

Robin shook his head denying Bruce's words, chest heaving with uneven breaths. "Reality is intangible, it's layered with too many things happening at once and no one to interpret it. Just those who can hear and see but misunderstand."

There was a knock on the door causing Bruce to look up to see a girl in maroon scrubs standing in the doorway. She took one look at Bruce hovering over the upset teen and with a quick -I'll go get the nurse- disappeared back the way she came.

The man turned back towards Robin, "Be that as it may, you need to calm down before you make yourself sick. Whatever's wrong we'll fix it."

Robin jerked his head up, his watery eyes seemed to plead with Bruce."But it isn't mine and I shouldn't have to render it."

"Dick, I don't understand." Bruce took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder as he heard the squeaky steps of sneakers behind him. A male nurse had entered the room, the maroon scrubbed girl from before beside him, the nurse looked towards Bruce and showed him the prepackaged hypodermic needle.

"Haloperidol with Promethazine." The nurse stated simply, coming up beside Bruce. "Doctor Thompkins gave us the order for it. It will help with his agitation."

Bruce nodded in consent watching as the nurse-whose name badge read Stephen Smoak- gently lifted the IV port and dispensed the medication. Bruce gently squeezed Robins shoulder, trying his best to give support to the teen. After a few moments, the little hands tightly curled around darkened locks began to loosen; and, finally, Bruce was able to gently set the teens hands down on the mattress. Heaving a sigh, he helped Robin slowly lean back against the bed before he also grabbed the hospital blanket and repositioned it over the teen. A few moments after, Robins eyes fluttered shut as he fell into a drugged sleep.

Stephen, the nurse, secured the used needle in the red biohazard bin before stating. "Doctor Thompkins also ordered a PRN Ambien if need be, but the Haldol should help him sleep through the night."

Bruce grunted an unintelligible reply which caused Stephen to clear his throat, "If you need anything else, Mr. Wayne, just hit the call light."

At Bruce's nod, Stephen ushered the CNA out and quietly closed the door behind him. With a sigh, the billionaire looked down at his watch 7:04 p.m. He glanced out the rooms window and noticed the sun setting on the horizon. He wanted to stay with his son but he knew that the only way he would be of use to the teen was to find the people who did this and bring them to justice.

It was time to get to work.
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lifeingeneral: Bird in a Cherry Tree (Default)

August 2017


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