(A/N)- Fun story, this was actually the first prompt I wrote. Because of course it was. Because Robin is my favorite and I love hurting him. But it's okay, Starfire is there to pick up the pieces. :)

Probably the most predictable way I could have filled it but oh well.

Disclaimer: Give me the rights and I would make all the Robin angst. You would not be able to stop me.

RobStar Week 2019, Day 4 - Fever

He knew something was wrong the moment awareness came to him.

The heat. That was the first thing he noticed. His skin was flushed with it, and the bedcovers seemed to smother him in an oppressive pocket of it. He groaned and moved to push the top layer off him, and that was when he noticed the heaviness, the lethargy in his limbs, sapping at his energy.

Add in the uncomfortable itching at the back of his throat, and it was clear to Robin that he was sick.

Very sick.

His hand fumbled across the nightstand, groping for his alarm clock. He found it finally and lifted it to eye level, peering through blurry eyes at the numbers.
8:45. Well, at least someone had probably noticed he hadn't gotten up for breakfast yet and would be down to check on him soon. He hoped.

Robin dropped the clock and slumped back down into the pillows.

I really don't want to get up, he thought, miserably. But he should probably take some painkillers… at least.

As he was still trying to summon up enough will to move, he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Robin?" he heard Starfire calling. "Are you awake?"

"Barely," he croaked out.

The door swished open to admit her. Starfire dropped her hand away from the door controls and stepped into the room, concern radiating from her vibrant green eyes.

"You missed Cyborg's chocolate chip pancakes," she told him, crossing the room, her hands fisting in front of her heart.

He buried his nose in the pillow, muttering. "I'm not really hungry."

He felt, more than saw, her come to stand next to the bed. A soft hand touched his forehead, then drew back sharply as Starfire hissed through her teeth.

Robin peeled his face off the pillows and looked at her. She was biting her lip, her face pinched in tight worry, shoulders tense. He reached out a gloved hand to touch her arm reassuringly, and gave her a tired smile.

She relaxed a little bit, but the concern in her eyes did not dim. "Do you require anything?" she asked softly, brushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

"Water would be nice," Robin said, the words pinching and straining through his dry throat. He pulled his arm back under the covers. "And I think we have aspirin in the medicine cupboard. Could you…?"

She nodded, straightening and floating at once out the door.

Robin attempted to sit up while she was gone. The movement made him acutely aware of an ache deep in his limbs and he groaned again, more out of frustration than discomfort.

It just figured that as soon as they'd had a nice lull in crime he wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

Starfire returned momentarily, a glass of water and a pair of small pills in her hands. Wordlessly, she sat down on the edge of the bed and passed them to him.

He took the glass gingerly, popping the pills to the back of his throat and washing them down with a long, careful drag. The cool water trickled down his throat, soothing and easing the persistent itch.

He finished draining the glass and handed it back to her.

"Thanks," he croaked.

She placed the glass on the nightstand, then leaned back again.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked softly. Her hands drifted, pointing vaguely towards the door. "Perhaps… Raven…?"

Robin shook his head. "You can ask her," he said. "But she'll probably just say we should let this run its course."

Starfire sighed deeply, her helplessness coming through the tone of her breath. "I hate seeing you ill like this," she said quietly, voice wavering.

"I know. I hate it too." His hand drifted across the covers to capture hers and give it a squeeze. "But I'll be okay, Starfire. I always am."

That was a disgusting lie and she saw right through it, making a face. Robin jumped to argue his point.

"Come on, Star, when have I ever gotten sick enough that you've needed to seriously worry?" he pressed.

Her mouth twisted wryly. "Would you like the list alphabetically or in the chronological order?" she asked him.

He grimaced, conceding. "All right," he told her honestly. "I feel… awful. And we should probably be checking my temperature periodically throughout the day. But as long as my fever doesn't get too high, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

Starfire smiled, patting his hand with her other one and then letting go with both and standing up.

"You should rest," she whispered. "I will make sure you are not disturbed."

Robin nodded, sliding back down under the covers. "Wake me up about noonish?" he asked. "I think I might be hungry enough to eat by then."

"I will," she promised.

She smoothed his hair back one last time, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, before standing up and moving off.

Robin was already drifting back to sleep when the door swished behind her.

-TT-

He felt marginally better when he awoke, hours later. The medicine was doing its job to combat his fever and aches. Robin had enough energy to get up and change clothes into something more comfortable than his uniform. He settled back into bed and dozed in and out until Starfire's gentle knock came at his door.

"'m awake," he responded groggily, raising his head.

She stepped through the door, holding a bedtray to her hip. A ladle and a large bowl were on it.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, swinging the tray around to hold it in front of her.

"A little," he said. He peered at the bowl. "What's that?"

She smiled widely, bringing it to him. "On Tamaran we make this stew to aid in the recovery from common illnesses," she explained. She held the tray out proudly, tilting it a bit so Robin could see the contents of the bowl.

A brown and pink sludge sloshed in the bowl, bringing floating white and green bits to the surface. Robin stared down at it apprehensively, his brain trying to think of a polite way to phrase his… many questions.

"Uh…" he could only say, instead.

Starfire giggled. "It is safe for human consumption," she assured him, deciphering his most pressing concern. "Cyborg and Beast Boy have both tried it." She carefully set the tray down on the bedcovers, picking up the ladle and spooning the concoction into a smaller bowl for him. "They warned me it was rather bitter, though, so I have brought some honey, if you wish to use it," she offered, holding out the smaller bowl to him and nudging a golden-colored jar on the tray he hadn't noticed.

He took the bowl with both hands. The warmth he felt through the ceramic was pleasant, and the steam that wafted up from the stew smelled… rather good actually. Like a mixture of fruit and broth.

He accepted a spoon from Starfire and dug in, scooping a small chunk and taking a tentative taste.

It was a bit bitter, as Cyborg and Beast Boy had diagnosed, but not overwhelmingly so. There was a vague fruitlike taste, but not something he could easily place. Probably not something Earth-grown. Texture akin to oatmeal, going down his throat with the same warm and comforting smoothness. A little cinnamon and sugar and it almost could be one of Alfred's hearty breakfast meals.

He sighed with contentment after he swallowed.

"It's good," he told her. "Thank you."

Starfire beamed broadly. "Is there anything else you would like?" she offered, shifting on the bed in preparation to stand back up.

Robin smiled at her. "I'd really like to kiss you," he joked. He gestured towards himself. "But I don't want you to catch this."

"Yes, that would be best," she bantered back. She did give him a kiss though, pressing her lips to his forehead again, gently. "Call for me?" she said.

He nodded. "Always."

With that she left him to his stew and his slow recovery.