The minute Robin woke up he felt all of the aster leave his body. His energy was totally depleted and he was aching all over. However, Robin was nothing if not persistent (and a troll, but that's not the point) and he was not about to give up to some little, insignificant cold. That would happen about a millennia after hell froze over. So up he went, not realizing that he was doing something he would regret only a moment later.

Richard Grayson stood on shaky legs, knees slightly giving out underneath him as he nearly hit the floor. A wave of nausea hit him harder than Batman hits all of his enemies. He forced it back and pressed forwards on wobbling legs, keeping a hand constantly on something, anything, preferably something he could grab onto, to keep his balance. On the way out of the room he checked his oversized mirror; what he saw terrified him. There was Dick, but not the one he knew. His eyes were large and bloodshot, his skin was very pale except for his flushed cheeks, his body was trembling from cold, and he just looked so darn tired. He laid himself back down in bed, willing himself to fall back slowly and not give into his body's naturally weak state. He reached his arm, and God did he feel so weak and pathetic, to his nightstand and managed to pick up his phone, calling the number that was first on his speed dial.

BRIINNNGGG! BRRINNGGGGG!

Bruce Wayne groaned as his large fist came down like a hammer on his apparent 'alarm clock' aka. His cell phone. "Gosh Dang it! Who's calling this early in the morning?!" The now very groggy, irritated billionaire begrudgingly picked up his phone and squinted at the contact picture. When he saw his beloved ward's face, he was on instant edge. He pressed the accept call button and hit the 'speaker' His nerves were already fried. There was absolutely nothing that could worry him faster. "Dick? What's the matter?" His eyebrows knit tightly together in concern.

On the other side of the house Robin was coughing to death, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his chest; he was dying on the inside. "Bruce…" He whimpered quietly, so much so that the Boy Wonder would be surprised if Bruce heard it. Of course, just by Bruce being Bruce, he did hear it.

"Oh my gosh, Dick what's wrong?"

"Oh, you know, just the daily round of being so sick that I can't see straight." He thought, wanting nothing more than to be able to say that with his usual sarcastic grin on his face. It seemed as though he wouldn't be getting his wish anytime soon. He couldn't even strain out any intelligible words. All he got out was a few soft moans and he was lucky he got that much. His throat was trying to murder him.

"Hold on Dickie; I'll be there soon." Bruce was panicking as he sprinted out of bed, feet sliding on the cold, hard, wooden floor. He caught himself midway to Robin's room. He forced himself to slow down to a speed walk, but even then he still flew down the corridor. He didn't even bother to knock on his wards door. What he saw made his heart clench in this chest and his breath catch in his throat. There, still laying in bed and curled up in the presumably warm sheets, was his ill ward.

Dick's chest was rapidly rising and falling, his breathing loud and ragged, his body soaked in sweat, and looking totally helpless. No, not helpless, like he needed someone. Like… like… like he needed his dad, except his biological dad wasn't alive anymore. He needed his DaddyBats and that's just what Bruce would give him…. Except he had no clue what to do with a sick child, and Dick was no different. "What do you need Dick?" He put all the gentleness possible into his tone.

"Get Alfred," he rasped out, his sentence barely sounding coherent. Instantly, Bruce had his phone in a death grip, his fingers pressing the speed dial for Alfred.

BRRIINNNNGGG! BBRRINNNNNGGG!

Alfred was a bit more composed than Bruce was when he went to pick up the phone, but he still was concerned. People did call Alfred, but not as often as they called Bruce and definitely not this early in the morning. "Hello Master Bruce," he said uncertainly after he checked the caller I.D. He heard the shaky breaths on the other line and knew something was wrong.

"Dick is sick and I have no clue on what to do." Bruce said, straight to the point as usual, but the confident tone just wasn't there.

"I'll be right there Master Bruce. Hold on." He breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't something worse than that. Even so, Alfred was fast on his feet as he went to get the thermometer from the cupboard and extra blankets from the linen closet. He walked to Dick's room and didn't even have to open the door because Bruce had sensed him and opened it for him. When he came in, Richard's baby blue eyes flicked open his breath came out even more strained.

"Master Dick! You look awful."

"Gee, thanks Alfred" He muttered, somehow working up the energy to roll his eyes. Alfred took the opportunity to stick the thermometer in his mouth. When he pulled it out his eyebrow raised and Dick didn't miss the look on his face.

"103.4, that isn't good. Can you try talking for me?"

"Testing testing 1,2,3,4…" His voiced rasped causing him intense pain, but he kept his fake smile on anyway. He coughed miserably after that though, totally ruining the fake image he had put up.

"Your voice is scratching and it sounds like you're in pain. From my observations you have a lack of energy. Are you hot or cold?" He only managed to say "Co-" Before his voice gave out on him. He whimpered and coughed, his throat feeling like he had sandpaper in it. Bruce gave him a small, sympathetic look before tucking the blankets and the extra blankets tightly around his son. Alfred then gently pulled Bruce to the side.

"Master Dick at least has a high fever, if not anything more. He could quite possibly have a case of pneumonia or bronchitis. He needs lots of rest and fluids to get better soon. I'll go fetch medication for him."

"Right. Is there anything I should do?"

"Just stay here with him. I will be back in a moment with the proper amenities. Hold tight, Master Dick."

Robin glanced over at Bruce with that look that he really hoped read 'I'm going to absolutely dread every single second of this'.

"You and me both Dick. You and me both."

(A/N) This fanfic was inspired by pretty much the first couple months of this year where I got the worst fever I've ever had (so bad that I actually had to go to the ER), plus pneumonia for at least a week, which made me feel totally miserable. Thank God I'm fine now and hopefully won't have to ever deal with that again, but it was awful while it happened. But it sure makes for a good story, now doesn't it? I know that Bruce is OOC in this, but I don't really care. I feel like he would do this if he was given a chance to, even if not to this extent. I wasn't really planning on making this a multi chaptered story, but looking at it I probably should. This is sort of compensation for missing the deadline on my other story, and I'm sorry for that. Really I am.

Please R and R! See you guys on the next chapter I upload!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone In this fanfic. Or the items in this story. Or the illness that Dickie bird has gotten.

Sayonara Reader Chan!