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Sick Week
It started as a cough, Robin assuming it was simply a cold, having a fever, headache, even feeling weak, though he reconsidered as instead of getting better, his cough only got worse, along with his fever, so tired he didn't even feel he could rise as the alarm shook the tower.
His friends were concerned when he didn't show for the missions briefing, going to his room, knocking with a slight 'Robin…?' before entering, finding the boy shaking slightly, panting, slick flesh, light blush finding his cheeks, red meeting a bluish tint residing on his lips.
They dragged the boy to the car, forcing his swaying form in, though they didn't seem to need to, boy not refusing, going peacefully, as they drove to the doctor, breath shallow as they went on, team thinking he'd soon stop breathing all together.
He had pneumonia, cold having evolved, given antibiotics before told they could go home, told not to let him leave his bed until he was well. Again he didn't refuse, shivering as he crawled back in his bed, tired.
The screen show a blinking dot as they returned, having completely forgotten about the alarm, forced to leave, Robin so they could handle the mission, at least most, Beast Boy staying to watch him, make sure he stayed put, though he didn't seem aware of anything as he curled on his side under his sheets, shake somewhat worse than before.
"Slade…" The cybernetic boy said, seeing a herd of bots residing in the alley, having just taken a military experiment, working their way back to their creator. It didn't take long to defeat the metal feans, working their way to where they'd been returning.
"Only three Titans today?" The remains of the team turned to the deep voice, Slade standing, arms crossed over chest. "Where's your bird?" He asked, recalling he'd been sick prior.
"Why do you care." Cy spat, aiming his cannon.
"Still sick?" His query was answered, not with words, but actions, Titan's shifting slightly, making him raise a curious brow.
"He has the pneumonia…" Star told him, remnants of her team turning her way, as though to say, 'it's none of his business' with there eyes.
"Oh, I see…" He hummed, slightly unnerving the team. "I guess we're done then."
"What…?" Cyborg tried to wrap his mind around the statement, positive, based off the last few days, that, Slade had completely lost his marbles.
"I feel no need to continue when you only have half your players." He turned, simply walking away calmly, not even reacting, other than a slight movement to avoid the cannon fired at his back.
"I don't think he's doing good, dude." Robin lie on his back, breathing shallow.
"I'm fine…" He said, as though in attempt at easing the youngest's worries, failing due to a weary tone, a tone not fitting him in the least bit.
"Robin, you need to stay in bed." Cyborg said, not sure what the phrase meant, half expecting the boy to try to work despite the illness.
I kno-" He began a violent cough, grabbing a tissue from the box at the side to catch the small clods of yellows and greens, eventually having it calm, breath quicker to regain what had been lost.
"Oh, man, you okay?" Cy asked as he quieted, leader nodding, exhaustion clear. "Get some sleep, man." He said, watching the ill teen curl under his blanket, neither leaving until they were sure he was asleep.
He woke suddenly, coughing, outburst racking his everything as he sat up in bed, gripping his chest, pain radiating. It wasn't until his frail form fell back to the mattress, that he noticed the box, raising a brow.
The only thing giving any indication of where the package originated, was a short note comprised of two words. 'Don't die.' His eyes widened a bit, realizing it was from Slade, confused, knowing the man didn't really care whether he died, so why- How did he get in the tower?! He groaned at the realization, though decided not to worry about it.
He was even more confused when he opened the box, containing several bottles of water, some Tylenol, and a rubix cube. Why would he care? He didn't understand the man's motives, knowing he must have some, half expecting to be poisoned if he used either. In the end he decided the one in question had no reason to kill him, or at least he wasn't one to kill someone unless it benefited him in some way, taking some Tylenol with a swig of water, only now noticing how dry his mouth was, drinking half the container before putting it back in the box, grabbing the cube, using it to not think of the reasons for the villains kindness. To say the least, it didn't work, unable to get the thoughts from his frantic mind.
Took a while to find an illness that was right for the story.
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