This isn't going well. Again. I apologize.

Dick woke up again. This time without the waves of nausea or the crippling headaches. He wanted to wake up this time. Everything smelled different than the last time. Because it wasn't the cave. It was his bed. He smiled into the pillow and closed his eyes again.

After a few minutes though he decided he had to pee too badly to just stay in bed, so he rolled over and started feeling around for the blankets that were tangled around his legs. A piece of paper fell on his face.

He grunted at it and brushed it off. Then lifted his head up enough to read it.

Alfred left with Bruce. If you need anything, shout for me. DO NOT do anything stupid. Tim.

"Does peeing count as stupid?" Dick wondered out loud.

He suspected that it did, but after a few minutes of debate he decided that he couldn't wake up Tim to help him hobble to the bathroom. He untangled his feet and set them on the floor carefully. That required him to sit up. He expected it to hurt, which it did. He expected that to make him dizzy, which it didn't. He took this as a good sign and proceeded to very slowly, very carefully push himself off the bed, aiming for the wall.

It was a lurch, not a graceful movement, but it got him as far as he need it to. He leaned on the wall and used it to shuffle his way around the room until he got to his bathroom.

"So far so good," he muttered as he launched himself at the sink.

It all went a little south on his way back to his bed when he crashed down, too dizzy to find his feet. Luckily, he mostly ended up at the foot of his bed, where he kind of grabbed at the comforter and managed to stop himself from slipping off and landing on the floor. Because that would have been embarrassing.

"Dick?" Tim asked. "Whatcha doing?"

Of course, Tim would be walking by at the moment. God, he was getting as bad as Bruce at just turning up at annoying, inappropriate moments.

"Falling off my bed," he muttered. "Obviously."

"Did you want a hand or should I just stand here and watch?"

"Not sure yet," Dick said as he lost a few more inches. The comforter slipped. Tim threw himself down on the bed so it stopped moving before Dick hit the floor but at that point he might as well have been sitting down anyway. "Okay," he agreed. "A hand would be good."

Tim grinned and scrambled across the bed. He caught Dick under his arms and gently hauled him back up onto the bed.

"That's getting less painful every time it happens," he observed as he rubbed his head, which now boasted a hangover level headache and no worse.

"Maybe you should just stay in bed so it doesn't have to keep happening?" Tim suggested as he grabbed a pillow from the other end of the bed to lean against the foot board. "You know, the condition of Alfred leaving was that I would promise to keep you in bed no matter what. You've already made me a liar."

"I had to pee," he said. "And I thought you might still be asleep. How was patrol? You okay?"

"Yup," Tim agreed."Fine. Not much happening."

"Damian?"

"He's fine. I think. I haven't seen him since we got back but he was fine when we got in this morning."

"Probably hiding," Dick said. "I'm sure he'll resurface when he gets bored and wants to pick a fight with someone. Ten bucks says it'll be you."

"Thanks," Tim said. "Anyway, I guess if I want to keep my promise to Alfred I'm going to have to wait on you. So, what can I get you? Breakfast?"

"That'd be good," he agreed. "And something to do Tim, god please give me something to do."

"Right, because getting your skull to heal is too boring, I know," Tim said.

"It is!" he whined. "Come on, when was the last time you successfully spent a week recovering?"

"Okay, fair point," Tim agreed as he helped Dick jam the pillow behind his back. "What do you want to eat?"

"What can you cook?" Dick asked back.

"That was kind of a trick question actually," Tim answered. "Alfred said you were still on hospital food, so you pretty much get toast and juice. Maybe tea. If you're nice I'll let you pick what I put on the toast though."

"You don't have to sound so gleeful," Dick said, glaring at him. Tim smirked. "I miss Alfred."