Robin has never felt so tired in his life. He and the team had just gotten back from another 'covert' mission and here he is more tired than the whole team combined. Based on the worried glances he was getting, Robin straightened his posture and headed towards the kitchen, planning to ransack the water supply.
Before Robin even reached the fridge, Wally zoomed past, food already into his mouth. "Man! That was a beat down! That was like, our hardest mission yet! Well... almost... Hey, Rob, could you- hey, are you feelin' alright? You don't look too hot."
Giving Wally a small glare, Robin pushed past him to get a water bottle from the fridge. "Not whelmed, but fine, KF. Not that it really matters since you don't look too hot either." With a smirk in Wally's direction, Robin retreated towards the Living room, landing himself on the couch next to Artemis. "Actually, even Arty doesn't look too hot."
"Speak for yourself bird brain. You have literal bags under your eyes! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were severely ill with how pale you look," Artemis exclaimed. Robin merely smirked once more before turning to face the T.V., opening his water bottle as he did so. "C'mon Kid Wonder, I know you Bats welcome insomnia and all, but it in no way helps you when you're sick, let alone on a mission. It's only gonna make it worse."
After hearing no response from Robin towards Artemis's statement, Kadlur decidedly spoke up. "Perhaps Artemis is correct Robin, you do look extremely worn down, maybe you should take a rest; here or at home. It is up to you my friend, we are only worried for your wellbeing."
With a sigh, Robin stood up, his water bottle empty and lying on the coffee table. "Alright, alright. I'll head home and take a nap," Robin said, and Headed towards the his room to change into his civvies. As he left via zeta tube, his departure being announced, Conner couldn't help but worry about the irregupar beating of Robin's heart.
Lex Luthor's eyes flickered towards a small screen on his desk. He had place discreet cameras in an alleyway to keep tabs on a certain telephone booth that many had claimed to have seen bursts of light emitting from. He normally wouldn't mess with anything that had to do with Gotham, but he had also heard a rumor that the phone booth was a teleportation device for a covert organization. On a small tablet, he saw a small raven-headed boy step out of the now glowing phone booth, proving the rumors correct. As the phone booth's light receded, the boy, who was previously wearing dark sunglasses, had taken them off with a supposed sigh, seeing as his shoulders slumped. Blue eyes now replaced the darkness of his glasses, and the boy now made his way towards the mouth of the alley, heading towards home, presumably.
Luthor's lips curled into a smirk, knowing full well who the boy was. His ocean blue eyes were a dead, dead giveaway. "Well, well, the Circus charity boy, Richard Grayson. Can't say I'm not suprised, because I very well am." Getting up from his chair, Luthor made his way out of his study, determined to find out where the phone booth leads to and what exactly it had to do with Dick Grayson. The only way to find out? Going to Gotham personally.
As Dick entered the Wayne manor, he knew he felt more drained than he was back at the mountain. It was sufficient to say that he really did need a well deserved nap, and headed upstairs towards his room, a request for cookies long forgotten. After changing into a snug pair of pajamas, Dick shuffled into the bed sheets, curling into them for warmth. A few minutes dragged by, his eyes refusing to close and his body growing slick with sweat despite his shivering. His ears perked as the door to his room opened, light from the hallway cascading onto his face.
"Master Dick, are you quite alright? I noticed your lack of energy as you entered the manor, and, dare I say, you look white as a sheet." Alfred came in holding a tray of cookies, and came over to the bedside table, placing it down gently.
"Thanks Alfie, I haven't been feeling the aster lately. Maybe I'm sick? I don't know, I feel more tired than usual," Dick said. He hoisted himself into a seated position, grabbing a cookie from the tray next to it, munching on it softly. His sore throat made it hard to swallow and caused him to swiftly close his eyes in pain for a quick second before reopening them soon after.
Alfred pulled a thermometer from within his pocket and placed it into the boy's mouth, placing his other hand on his forehead. Pulling the thermometer from Dick's mouth, he looked at the temperature meticulously before turning towards the door. "You have quite the fever Master Dick, I will acquire some medicine and a cool glass of water for you. Sit tight."
As Alfred left out through the still open door, Dick slumped back into the bed. He couldn't stop shivering, and knitted himself between the covers for warmth, his body now drenched in even more sweat, yet he couldn't bring himself to care. As he waited for Alfred, Dick focused on the ticking of the clock on the wall adjacent to him for comfort. The tick-tocking of the clock both comforted and bothered him. The noise grew louder and louder in his ears until it no longer provided comfort. A ringing in his ears began to interrupt any thought processes. Clenching his teeth, he placed his hands over his ears to dull out the noise, only succeeding somewhat, before the noise fully receeded back to a soft whisper.
Alfred finally came back after a few minutes, now holding a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of antibiotics in the other. "The fever should be gone in a few days, so there shouldn't be any worries Master Dick. I must say, I'm surprised you're even sick at all, you have rarely ever gotten sick since you first came here."
Dick took the glass of water from Alfred's hands and took a few slow gulps before downing the medicine. Cringing at the repulsive taste, he finished the last of his water to clear his mouth of the taste. "Maybe I caught something during the mission today. Does this mean I won't be patrolling tonight?" Dick asked.
Taking the empty glass and medicine cup, Alfred smiled at Dick for comfort, "that is up for yourself and Master Bruce to decide. Not that I deem you healthy enough sir, but I would recommend you stay home tonight and get some rest. You know very well that Master Bruce and I won't get a healthy amount of sleep if you don't attempt to better yourself Master Dick." With that, Alfred made his way out the door once again, closing it this time.
"Dick?" Dick's eyes fluttered open as Bruce shook him awake. "Hey, chum. Alfred says dinner is ready. You feeling alright? I heard you caught something."
Sitting up, Dick rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned to face Bruce with a tired smile. "Tired, lousy, but I'll be fine. Alfred said it'll be gone in a few days, so I just gotta take it slow." As Dick made a move to get out of bed, Bruce put his hand out to stop him.
"It's alright, I'll bring your food up for you. How about no patrol for a while until you feel better. It's been a slow week, I don't expect any breakouts from Arkham for a while, but if I need you, I'll call you." Bruce made his way towards the door, but then stopped. "If you get any worse, or even feel any worse, call me. I want no exceptions. Even if I'm on patrol, I don't care, just call me, and I'll be here." At Dicks nod of confirmation, Bruce have a quick smile before heading down to grab his ward's dinner.
As Dick slowly ate his dinner -which consisted of mash potatoes, steak, asparagus, and a cup of tea- he couldn't help but think of how bored he was gonna be in the next few days. He obviously was going to stop by the mountain once and while, perhaps even stay there a day or two, although he knew he wouldn't be partaking in any missions. Dick winced as his throat flares with pain as he shoveled down his food. His head gave off a dull ache and his stomach churned, causing his appetite to diminish. Setting down the leftovers of his food onto the bedside table, Dick got up, swaying sideways as he did so, before readjusting himself. He picked up a blanket from the foot of his bed, wrapped it around himself, and made his way into the hallway.
Dick ventured down towards the Batcave; his bare feet, cold with every step. He knew he wasn't fit to patrol tonight, but just sitting in bed and doing nothing made him feel uneasy and more worried for Bruce's well being, despite knowing Bruce could take care of himself. Dick was going to at least man the Bat-computer and comms, if only to help even a little bit.
After finally making it to the grandfather clock, he opened the secret door and made his way down to the cave, regretting not putting on socks first. Dick knew Bruce hasn't left yet, as he would normally bid him a goodnight on the days he would stay home. He wouldn't be suprised of Bruce was making his way up right now. Dick was proven right, as he heard Bruce's ghost-of-footsteps padding up the stairs. He stopped, and waited until Bruce was in his line of sight.
At the sight of Dick standing in front of him in the stairwell, Bruce have a tired sigh, knowing fully well that Dick wanted to help him in some way tonight. "Fine, but only comms and computer. You are not to come and assist me unless I say so. You're still sick; at least have Alfred bring you down some tea or water." At Dick's smirk, Bruce made his way back down to the cave with Dick in pursuit.
Bruce came home to a sleeping Dick Grayson after patrol. Seeing as Dick became silent on his side of the comms, Bruce knew either something bad happened, or he merely fell asleep. Nonetheless, he rushed home, already done for the night, and visibly relaxed at the sight of his ward sleeping soundly. Dick's head lay on his folded arms which rested near the Bat-computer's keyboard; his blanket (which had previously fallen on the way down to the batcave) was wrapped around his small seated form, undoubtedly Alfred's doing. Pulling down his cowl, Bruce picked Dick up gentlly, carrying him bridal style to his room, then tucking him into his bed and bidding a quite goodnight before retreating back down to the cave.
Patrol went as Bruce thought it would. It was a slow night, but that didn't mean nothing important happened. Bruce caught Lex Luthor snooping around Gotham. That in itself was an anomaly. Luthor stayed away from Gotham when he could help it, and he only goes to Gotham for Lex Corp. Business or otherwise. Now, Bruce knew that Luthor was here on his own terms due to his body language. Batman didn't make his presence known to Luthor, but he did tense up when Luthor came a bit to close to the league's zeta beam disguised as a telephone booth. Surely, Luthor knows nothing of it. Whatever Luthor wanted or needed that was in Gotham, it likely had nothing to do with telephone booths and dark alleys. Despite Luthor not being a major threat, as he was Clark's responsibility, Batman knew he had to keep close tabs on him, for risk of blowing Robin and his team's cover.
Hearing footsteps padding down the stairs to the Batcave, Bruce turned in his swivel-chair to greet Jason, his most recent adoptee. The eleven year old boy made his way over to Bruce with a worried, curious gaze. "Couldn't sleep kiddo?" Although, Bruce already knew the answer to that question.
"Not really... I um, I heard Dick was sick? Is he alright?" Jason asked. Despite being younger than Dick by two years, Jason was the worrywart brother, for how could he not when his brother faced the possibility of death everyday? He knew it'd soon be his turn as Robin, and despite the training and excitement, he couldn't help but be a little scared of what he may have to face. "Is it bad?"
"He'll be fine in a few days Jason, just a high fever. I feel he may be hiding something, but I know that if it is worse than what we may think, Dick can surely pull through. Your brother is tough, just like you." Patting Jason on the shoulder, Bruce stood up from his chair, and guided Jason back up the stairs.
As Bruce tucked Jason into bed, Jason asked, "If he is hiding something... interrogate him, do w-whatever, just- find out. But, let me know the second you find out if it is bad... Promise?" Bruce chuckled.
"Alright big brother Jason, I promise." Bruce closed Jason's door behind him, in the hallway, and turned to the direction of his own quarters.
"Master Bruce?" Bruce turned back around, facing Alfred who was coming from the direction of Dick's room. "I just checked in with Master Dick-"
"Is he-"
"He is sound asleep and as safe as he can be. Although, just from looking at him, he looks as if on the verge of death. I am worried he may be hiding other symptoms from us, for it seems as though this is anything other than a simple fever." The lines on Alfred's forehead were downcast, creased in worry. His eyes held worry. Bruce knew that if Alfred was this worried, there was definitely something to worry about.
"Should we-"
"I have already contacted Miss Thompkins. She will arrive early tomorrow morning."
"Okay," Bruce sighed. Making his way back towards his room, Bruce's mind was now filled with even more worry than before. He could only hope that Dick, himself, knew it was bad and would open up about how he was feeling.
Bruce got no sleep that night, for obvious reasons.
Dick opened his eyes slowly, adjusting them to the Light that now filled the room from the sun through the window. His body ached with such a pain, it was as if he was on fire (not that he knew what being on fire felt like, but he almost had... once.) As he sat up, Dick winced at the amount of light his niw fully-open eyes just took in; light-headedness overtook him for a few seconds, then subsided as quickly as it came. Dick had the sudden urge to cry as he struggled to get out of bed; he knew he was sick, and he definitely did not have a fever, at least, not anymore. Nothing came to mind when he added up all the symptoms he has been experiencing; something must've happened during his and the team's mosy recent mission, and it probably wasn't good if he was feeling like... like this.
"Shit," Dick cursed out as he slumped back down into his bed. And he really did feel like couldn't even get out of his frickin' bed without feeling a stab of pain almost everywhere.
Alfred came in right at that moment; Dick's cursing didn't go unnoticed, and Alfred knew that Dick only cursed under severe anger, guilt, or pain. He had reason to worry, as Dick had obviously struggled to even get out of his bed. "Deep breaths Master Dick, it will only get worse the more you push youself." Gaining Dick's attention, Alfred continued, "Dr. Thompkins is on her way as we speak, and surely you will feel no need to hide anything from us, am I correct Master Dick?"
"I..." He was going to say that there was no need, and that he was fine, but Alfred's stern look made him say otherwise. " N-Not at all, Alfred."
"Very good Master Dick, Miss Leslie will be here any minute now, please sit tight. And stay in bed please, I only worry for your safety." As Alfred retreated back out into the hallway, Dick caught sight of the worried look in Alfred's eyes. Knowing that Alfred was worried himself, was not a good sign. Suddenly, Dick felt as if he was on his deathbed, and it felt nothing like how he thought it would. It was terrifying. Dick shrank back into the sheets, waiting for Leslie to arrive, and hopefully, for her to leave later, with a statement of 'He will be fine as rain in a day or two,' for he knew his fear would only double if it was anything else.
What'd you think? Please review if you can correct me if you see any mistakes! I hope to be able to post a few times each week, althougj these first few weeks will be a bit slow, whay with finals and all. If u like this story, pls bare with me, as I am pretty busy, butbut I promise I won't be one of those ppl who start a story and don't finish. I'll try my best!
~NightWingDing