Dick woke up the next morning, very early, because Tim and Damian were coming into the Cave. Waking up wasn't particularly bad, but he was pretty sure that it was a really bad night because he didn't remember most of it. He was wrapped up in an alarming number of blankets. He was too hot, but not in a feverish way just in a clearly-my-brothers-went-way-over-board-with-the-b edding kind of way.
He couldn't see them, they were around the corner but he could hear them, even though they were trying to be quiet. Their voices sounded like low mumbles but he was pretty sure they were arguing. He didn't call for them or anything, just let them go upstairs. Damian was the height of grumpiness after a long night out on patrol. Tim had very thoughtfully left him a water bottle, a glass of juice, some painkillers and a few different food options, so he didn't really need either of them. They might as well get some sleep.
After a drink and a few mild pain pills Dick sat up, held very still and prepared himself for whatever hellish punishment his body was going to force him through next. Other than a headache, it really wasn't that had. Still,after yesterday he was pretty sure he couldn't push himself too hard. Not that he was going to give up on Damian's murder case or admit how crappy he was feeling but since he was alone and being completely honest with himself he kind of wished he was dead.
He ate breakfast, which consisted of crackers and little cups of applesauce that Alfred had made, had another short nap and then settled in for about seven minutes of resting. Then he got bored again.
He could almost see the computer but it seemed to be slightly unrealistic for him to get all the way over there without someone holding him up. So, helping Damian was just about out, at least for the mean time. What else could he do? Well, Bruce wanted him to be able to stand upright for a speech. He could probably practice that.
Once he'd unbundled himself from all the blankets he stood up. He didn't try to move, just to stand and wait for either dizziness or nausea or a pounding headache and none of them came. Or at least not right away.
After about forty five seconds he started to feel it.
So he sat back down, pulled the top blanket up around his shoulders and flopped into his pillows.
After about a half hour he tried again. Fifty seconds.
A half an hour later he tried again and made it really, damn close to a minute.
And then another half hour for a minute and eight seconds.
"Dick, what are you doing?" Tim asked quietly.
"Standing," he said, through clenched teeth. He leaned back into his bed and dragged himself up onto it. "That was good," he panted as Tim pushed him up onto the mattress and covered him up again with a blanket. "That was like a minute ten. You think Bruce's speech will be more than a minute ten?"
"Probably," Tim said. "Sorry."
"Damn," Dick said. "Oh well, I've got a few more days to practice."
"Feel better then?" Tm asked. "You look better."
"How was patrol last night?"
"Mostly fine," Tim said with a sigh. Dick looked at him questioningly. "We found a couple other of Damian's kills. Another two bodies."
"Did you see the bodies from the night before?"
"No, but Damian did. Surprisingly he didn't want to talk to me about what he found. Maybe you can talk to him?"
"Sure," Dick said. "Where is he?" Tim shrugged. "He'll turn up eventually I'm sure," Dick said. "Hey, so if I promise not to pass out or puke will you help me over to the computer console to help you guys out?"
"I'm not sure you can keep that promise," Tim said. Dick frowned. "But whatever, I'm breaking enough promises already. Let's do this."
It went pretty well, all things considered. Tim pulled Dick up almost into his arms, wrapped him up there tightly and together they made their way across to the chair. He was shaking, but other than that he felt pretty okay.
"Would you mind getting me some water?" Dick asked breathlessly.
"Not at all," Tim said. "You really don't have to do this. Maybe you should just keep working on the standing thing. That's more important and Damian and I've got this."
"What'd you find out?" Dick croaked. Seriously, when did walking across the Batcave become so exhausting.
"You're impossible," Tim groaned. "Stay here, don't die and I'll be back in a second."
Dick nodded.
Tim came back a minute or so later with that water bottle from beside the bed. He opened it and handed it to Dick. After he had a few mouthfuls he looked back at the computer screen. "So?" he asked. "What about the other bodies?"
"What about them?" Tim asked, sitting down next to him.
"Details would be good," Dick said. "Were they like the two Damian found? Shot and then mauled by something?"
"Yup," Tim agreed. "One out by the dock and the other in an dumpster. The thing is, if we're only finding two a night there's no telling how many people are getting killed every night."
"Right," Dick said. "Well give me the addresses, I'll look for footage. With four crime scenes we're bound to be able to find something right?"
"Probably," Tim agreed. "Are you sure you're up to it though? I mean, you did just tell me you managed to stand for a minute and ten seconds. You're going to have to like quadruple that if you want to make it through any speech Bruce has ever given. Maybe you should focus on that."
"I will," Dick promised "I'll sit for an hour and do this, then stand for a minute and eleven seconds."
"Not what I meant," Tim said.
Dick grinned at him and picked up where he'd left off then he'd fallen asleep. Tim groaned. "Fine. If I leave you unsupervised for an hour while I go have a shower and do a few things will you pass out?"
"Nope, I'm good," Dick said. "Enjoy being clean."