Work Text:
Dick doesn't get sick. He remembers a few times during and after the circus he gained a case of the sniffles or Bruce forced him to bed because he had a fever. But he grew out of it. The last time he even had a sore throat had been over two years ago. So when he wakes up with a stuffy nose, he doesn't think anything of it. There's a deep ache in his bones and he ignores that too. He's not sick he just had a late patrol. It's why he's at the manor instead of his own place. He makes it down the stairs and to the kitchen, plopping himself in a chair, before he realizes how cold the manor is. Since when did Alfred keep the manor so cold?
He slumps in the chair and curls in as much as he can without breaking the rules of feet on the chair. There's some sunlight streaming in from the windows but the rays are just missing Dick's chair and he doesn't have the energy to move. He sniffs. The action sends him coughing.
"Bad news," Bruce says from the entrance to Dick's right, "Damian is sick and—" Bruce pauses and Dick looks up from the stainless wood. Bruce is studying him with a surprised look. He is looking very goose bump free which Dick finds unfair. It's cold. How is Bruce not even shivering?
"And it seems you are, too," Bruce finishes his sentence.
"Don't be ridiculous, B," Dick scoffs, although his voice is scratchy even to his ears, "I don't get sick."
"The evidence points to the contrary," Alfred says. Dick jumps in his chair. He never hears Alfred coming. Even with all the training Bruce and Alfred put him through. Dick always found it scary.
"Let's get you back to bed," Bruce says. He's by Dick's side before he can open his mouth and helping Dick stand. If Dick's head wasn't so full of cotton, he'd complain that he can do it on his own. Instead, he leans into the warmth of his father's embrace. Even if it is to carry Dick's weight.
"But I didn't eat yet," Dick says.
"I'll have Alfred bring you those pancakes you like," Bruce says. He leads Dick back to the stairs.
"With the smiley face chocolate chips?" The words are out of Dick's mouth before he can stop them. Bruce laughs under his breath as they make their way up the steps.
"Yes, son," he says, "With the chocolate chip smiley faces." Dick let's out a small whoop. Even if he's embarrassed, at least he gets his favorite pancakes. He doesn't remember making it back to his room, but Bruce is helping him into bed without fully flopping into the pillows. He grumbles a little as he tries to get comfortable again.
"It shouldn't take too long for Alfred to make those pancakes," Bruce says, "Try to get some rest." Dick mumbles something he doesn't even understand.
He doesn't remember falling back asleep, but he does remember hearing his door creak open. It's odd because his door has never creaked. When he opens his eyes, Alfred is walking inside holding a tray with the most delicious smelling pancakes. Dick makes a sound between a squeal and a laugh. He forces himself to sit up. Alfred sets the tray on his bed. Dick immediately pours the offered syrup over the pancakes. He doesn't miss the fact that the chocolate chips are in the shape of a smiley face.
"Alfred," Dick says around a mouthful, "I love you."
"I am aware, Master Grayson," Alfred says with a hint of amusement. He waits until Dick finishes the plate. He leaves the glass of water behind alongside some medication. Dick knows better than to leave the medicine untaken. He swallows the two pills with a quick swig of water.
The first day, Dick sleeps through most of it. He has moments of lucidity when Alfred or Bruce enter his room to check on him. He can hear them whispering to each other, no doubt to help him sleep. Dick appreciates it, but he can still here them debating how bad he is.
"It's only the common cold, Bruce," Alfred argues, "There is no need for alarm."
"When was the last time Dick got sick?" Bruce asks, "I'm just worried." Dick drifts off again. He doesn't hear the rest of the conversation.
When he wakes up again, there's sunlight streaming through his window. He doesn't remember waking up anytime in the night. He wonders if Alfred snuck in some sedatives with the antihistamine. He wouldn't put it past him, but the more logical part of him that's come online in the last 24 hours says he was just sleeping the brunt of it off.
Dick's throat is sore and his nose is a little less stuffy. The chills haven't tamped down at all though and Dick pulls his blankets closer to his chin as he shivers. The aches have gotten worse, too and there's a headache throbbing around his whole brain. Dick let's out a small whimper as he pulls the blankets over his head.
"I apologize Master Grayson," Alfred's voice is muffled through the cloth, "I was tending to Master Wayne." Dick makes a humming sound he knows Alfred will hear. A few moments later, he hears the curtains bein drawn closed. He lifts the blankets from his head and watches Alfred walking to the linen closet. He smiles when Alfred pull down extra blankets. His shivering calms down the moment the blankets are over him.
"Master Todd seems to have come down with the same thing the two of you caught," Alfred says, "I suspect it's from that movie theater the three of you went to over the weekend."
Right, Dick remembers that. A new animated movie had come out and while Damian had adamantly refused he wanted to see it, Barbara had manged to get into his YouTube account and look at his watch history. The trailer had been viewed 17 times. They went under the lie that Jason wanted to see it. Only because Dick had beaten him to the lie first.
"Maybe the lady making our popcorn sneezed on it," Dick complains. The headache is still throbbing even without the sunlight.
"I did warn you children that particular theater was a cesspool, if I recall correctly." Alfred says.
"I'm 28," Dick argues.
"And I stand by my statement." If he had any energy, Dick might've swatted at Alfred's hand that made it's way to Dick's forehead. He hums at the heat.
"I will bring you more medicine," he says, "And I hope the rest you received the other day helped you feel a bit better, Master Grayson?" Dick nods. It really had, even if it was only marginally. His vision isn't even blurry anymore. He squints at Alfred's back as he walks out of the room. Not as blurry.
Dick unfurls from under the blankets, warming up for once. He frowns and wiggles his toes. Who put socks on his feet?
Alfred re-enters the room with a new glass of water and two new antihistamines. Dick sits up again, groaning at the ache and soreness that's settled in his body from yesterday. He accepts the glass and takes the medicine under Alfred's watchful eye.
"Is there anything else I can get you, Master Grayson?" Alfred asks.
"Jane Austen?" Dick asks. "Jason's been trying to get me to read her books." Alfred gives a small bow and turns heel. Dick calls a thanks after him, although his voice is weak.
Dick slaps a hand to his own forehead and frowns at how hot he his. He still feels like he's only just warmed up. When he counts the blankets, he gets seven. He huffs and stares at his bathroom door. He's had to pee since he woke up, but he doesn't to deal with the chills he was suffering from a few minutes ago. He makes up his mind and throws the blankets off him.
Dick shivers the whole time. At least he's not pissing the bed. When he washes his hands, he turns the water to near boiling. It's as he's drying his hands and trying to walk back to bed he realizes the wobbling in his legs isn't entirely due to the cold. They give out halfway between the bathroom and his bed. It's a loud thump when he falls. He groans on the wood and curls up as he shivers. He can hear footsteps rushing to his room. Bruce is in his doorway a second later.
"I just wanted to pee, man," Dick complains, "This is embarrassing." Bruce smiles and Dick can tell he's holding back a laugh. He pulls Dick up so he's standing and leaning against him. Dick thinks it should be him helping the old man walk, not the other way around.
"Did you make it to the bathroom?" Bruce asks.
"Mhm." Dick answers. He stares at the socks on his feet. They're Batman. Because of course they are. Bruce laughs. Dick wonders if he said that last but aloud. He's not entirely sure. He starts walking with Bruce's help and they make it back to his bed. Bruce sets something on the nightstand once Dick waves him off.
"Alfred told me you asked for Jane Austen?" Bruce says. Dick nods. He glances over and sees the titles he'd picked out. Emma; Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion. Dick thinks he'll read them when he can actually sit up for longer than five minutes.
"Thanks, dad," Dick says. He burrows further into the blankets. Bruce freezes to the door. Dick realizes he's never actually said that word in reference to Bruce aloud in private. During a few interviews, yes. But never alone. Dick tries to melt into his bed. He's a grown man who got a little sick and can't stop his mouth from running away from him.
"Anytime, Dick," Bruce says. His voice is soft. Dick listens to his footsteps recede. He stays buried under his blankets and eventually falls asleep that way.
Timbers - 13:31
i heard you all got sick
embarrassing.
anyways, here's some cats for Damian
[13 ATTACHMENTS]
Dami - 13:47
This is why you are my favorite, Drake
LIKED 13 ATTACHMENTS
Hoodie - 14:00
Really feeling the love, Tim
Hoodie - 14:32
Did you just send me $50 from B's account?
For Thai?
Dick - 14:33
LIKED 13 ATTACHMENTS
When mid afternoon rolls around, Dick is able to actually sit up. He can even see properly now. Nothing is blurry. He's a quarter of the way into Emma and he can understand why Jason likes the author. It's not the type of book he would have pegged Jason as reading, but it's still good. Not that he would ever tell Jason that. He has a feeling his brother would send him a ten page essay on all the themes throughout the book.
Alfred is keeping Dick fed and he appreciates it. While his appetite comes and goes, he still eats everything put in front of him. It's like his body doesn't know he's hungry until he can smell the food. He's full of enough soup that he's sure if he could move, he'd hear it sloshing in his stomach.
There's a patter of quick, muffled footsteps in the hallway. Dick looks up from his book. It's much too light to be either Alfred or Bruce. He wonders if Damian's gotten better faster than him. When Damian rushes into Dick's room, that theory is dashed from his mind. Damian looks worse than Dick felt even on the first day. And he'd been asleep for the entire time.
Dick doesn't have time to react before Damian is hopping next to Dick and pulling the covers around him. Dick his eyebrows.
"Dami?" he asks.
"I was lonely," Damian answers, "And cold. Alfred is keeping the manor cold. We will have to discuss the matter with him." Dick smiles. He let's Damian wiggle on the bed. In a moment, Damian decides he's not comfortable on the mattress. Dick gives a noise of alarm as Damian tries to shove himself under Dick's arm.
"Move your arm, Grayson," Damian complains. Dick does so. He holds his arms out of Damian's way and let's the young boy get settled in his lap. He tucks himself under Dick's chin. Dick let's his arms fall once Damian stops wiggling so much. He rests his chin on top of Damian's head and starts reading again.
"What book is that?" Damian asks.
"Emma," Dick answers, "Want me to read it out loud?"
"If you wish." Dick chuckles and starts the book over. He can tell the moment Damian falls asleep. He keeps reading aloud anyway. He doesn't want to rouse the boy now. He falls into an easy rhythm and makes sure Damian's breathing doesn't change.
Dick pauses for a moment when Damian's breathing stutters. He keeps reading, one hand holding the book open while the other manages to find Damian's forehead under the mess of hair. When he does he winces. Damian's burning up worse than him. Dick pulls his hand away.
"That's where he went," Bruce says. Dick closes his book as he looks up. Damian stirs and whines a little.
"He's burning up," Dick says. Bruce winces and enters the room. He presses his hand to Damian's forehead in a similar way Dick had just done. Bruce sucks in a breath through his teeth.
"Alfred and I were hoping his fever would break on its own," Bruce says, "Guess not."
"Wanna take him? Give him a cold bath?" Damian clings to Dick at the sentence.
"No!" he whines. "I'm already cold."
"You're burning up, Dami," Dick says, "We gotta break that fever." Damian whines again and buries further into the blankets and Dick's chest. Bruce has a fond smile on his face. Dick knows if he could get away with it, he'd have already snapped a picture. Dick sighs and presses a kiss to Damian's hair.
"We'll go to the zoo when you're better." Dick says. Damian's head shoots up. He's scrutinizing Dick's face.
"Is that a promise, Grayson?" Damian asks.
"It's a promise." Damian considers for a moment, then he nods. Dick smiles and shifts the blankets so Bruce can pull Damian out of the bed. He watches Damian bury his face in Bruce's neck as they walk away. Bruce rubs soothing circles on Damian's shivering back. He mouths a "thank you" Dick. Dick gives him a thumbs up and they disappear around the corner.
It's over an hour later when Bruce show's up again, Damian right behind him with fresh pajamas and hair that's less greasy. Damian's eyes are also less glazed. It doesn't stop him from climbing into the bed with Dick again and curling into his side. He's not shivering as bad and when Dick presses his hand to his forehead, it's not burning as bad.
"Any requests for dinner?" Bruce asks.
"The tomato soup Alfred made was acceptable," Damian says. Dick nods in agreement. He wraps an arm around Damian and flips back to the page he remembers Damian falling asleep on. Damian's eyes track the lines as Dick reads.
Dick likes the fact he's sick at the manor instead of home alone. He wonders how Jason's doing with the cold, although, with the fact he actually made sense in his texts, Dick wouldn't be surprised if he got over the worst of it in a day. Usually, when Jason got sick, not even auto-correct could save his typing. They had a whole system in place to decode his cryptic messages and someone on standby to check in on him when needed. Of course, Jason would never know this. If he did, he'd call them mushy and start camping out in one of the few safe houses they didn't know about by now.
He hands the book to Damian and points at the sentence they were on. He noticed Damian's eyes wandering earlier. Dick pulls out his phone once Damian starts reading. He shoots Jason a quick text, asking how he's doing He doesn't expect such a quick reply.
Hoodie - 17:07
On patrol.
You and Damian still sick?
Dick - 18:08
Damian worse than me
I think it'll take him another day
I'm feeling great though
Hoodie - 18:08
His fever break yet?
Dick - 18:08
With some negotiating.
How do you feel about the zoo?
Hoodie - 18:09
I'm free next Saturday.
GTG
Dick reaches over Damian to put his phone on the nightstand. He takes the book from Damian who points to the sentence he stopped on. They stay like that until Alfred brings in the tomato soup they requested. Damian doesn't spill a drop even as he's shivering. Dick manages to stain his shirt. When they finish Damian gives Dick a hug and he knows better than to question any of the odd affection Damian's been giving him. Damian climbs out of Dick's bed and wanders back to his own room.
"I think the last time he'd been that affectionate was with Tim," Bruce says. He needs to stop appearing out of nowhere while Dick is sick. It's not fair that his Robin senses are still down a little. Bruce steps into the doorway, leaning against the jamb.
"After the nightmare?" Dick asks. He remembered that day. He'd wrestled Jason for the good couch before they compromised.
"Yes." Bruce makes eye contact with Dick before he continues. "It's good, seeing him allow himself it." Dick smiles. He nods.
"You're not gonna go getting sick on us because you've been all helicopter mom, right?"
"I don't get sick." Bruce says. Dick laughs as he walks away. He pulls Emma back to him and continues reading until his eyes burn.
When he wakes up the next day, Bruce is sick.