Sorry this one's kind of short and not super awesome. I promise to try really hard to get more written (notice that I didn't promise I would, just that I'd try :P)
"We have to answer," Tim said shakily. Dick nodded, wished he hadn't and then stood up. The world lurched and he grabbed at his chair. One hand missed it completely and landed on Damian's shoulder. Damian's hand snapped up to grab Dick's arm.
"Quick," Dick panted. "You're like three rings away from him stealing the Bat Rocket and flying over here."
"Well hide!" Tim groaned. "Quickly or I'm as good as dead."
"Here, Grayson," Damian said, dragging him a few unsteady steps away from the computer consul and half dropping him on the floor.
"Ah," Dick grunted as his landing jarred his head.
"Master Timothy," Alfred's voice came from the computer. "How are you?"
"Shh," Damian hissed at Dick. "Stay here."
"Right," he whispered back. He was still shaking, but whether it was from cold or exhaustion or another fever, he didn't know. Suddenly he was very aware that his teeth were chattering loudly. Hopefully not loud enough for Alfred to hear. Damian crawled away and grabbed the blanket off the chair.
"I'm fine Alfred, how are you?" Tim said smoothly. Dick had to admit, he was very good at lying. "And Bruce? Is he okay?"
Damian looked over at Dick. His colour had just gone really white and he even though he was shivering, there was sweat on his face. "You all right?" Damian mouthed at him from just out of the line of sight from the camera. Dick gulped and nodded his head a few inches.
"Yes, yes we're fine," Alfred said. "We've arrived in Hong Kong and are settling into our, well, our accommodations. How is master Richard doing?"
"He's okay," Tim said. "Driving us all crazy with how he doesn't want to stay in bed but I think he's all right."
"Don't throw up," Damian hissed at Dick, looking over at Tim urgently. Dick nodded and kind of twisted his mouth. He wasn't going to open it. He hadn't vomitted yet, he probably wasn't going to, but suddenly he wasn't sure he wanted to stake the contents of his stomach on that.
"Good," Alfred said. "Have you check him for fever and infection since I left?"
"No," Tim said. "I was planning on doing it when I gave him dinner but I haven't got to it yet. He must be asleep, I haven't heard him shout that he's bored in like twenty minutes." Alfred chuckled. "Anyway we're all fine here."
"Where's Master Damian?"
"Here Pennyworth," Damian said, standing up as Dick gagged a little. "Drake may be incompetent but he has managed to keep himself alive this far, it seems unlikely he'd screw it up now."
"Perhaps I am just fond of Master Timothy," Alfred said. "And I see you're well as well. I'm glad." Damian didn't say anything just crossed his arms and sort of smiled. Dick could just barely see the expression. It looked a little bit like a snarl, but mostly affectionate snarl at least. Dick swallowed a mouthful of bile.
"Is my father there?" Damian asked. Tim threw a nervous glance over at Dick but Alfred didn't seem to notice.
"Yes, although he's not in at the moment," Alfred said. "I will tell him you were enquiring."
"Fine," Damian agreed. "I'm getting ready for patrol now."
"Very well."
Dick managed to keep his groan very quiet and sank down lower on the floor. Damian walked back out of the camera's line of sight and dropped down to Dick's level. He looked slightly concerned and very hesitantly put his hand on Dick's forehead. He shook his head a little at Dick's curious expression.
"Well, please take care of Master Richard," Alfred said. "And give him my love when he wakes up."
"We will," Tim agreed. "Say hi to Bruce for us."
"I will," Alfred agreed. "Do be careful tonight."
"I always am!" he answered lightly. "Talk to you tomorrow."
Staying upright suddenly became too much effort for Dick entirely, even if it was only a few inches. He groaned a little and pitched forward. Damian growled and leaned in to catch him.
"It's okay," Tim said, as he severed the connection and dropped down next to them. "Dick you still with us?"
"A little," he mumbled into Damian's costume.
"What's wrong with you?" Damian asked, shifting a bit so Dick's head was less driving itself into his shoulder and more cradled in his arms.
"You're running a bit of a fever Dick," Tim said. "Not has high as last time but enough that you really should be in bed."
"Help Damian," Dick mumbled.
"We'll figure it out tonight," Tim said.
"I don't need Drake's help," Damian snapped.
"Not a good time Damian," Dick muttered. "Come on, I'm not sure I can get off the floor without help."