A/n: So, um funny story. I am not dead, nor am I sick anymore so yay. I did not forget this fic though I am sorry it took me this long but hear me out okay? I started writing this last week intending to make this the last chapter and being done with it when I was still sick but not sick enough to take a day off. Then life happened and I got busy and by Sunday, I kind of finally crashed and took a much needed rest day because I was exhausted.

Then life happened again, even though I was a little better and busy things and now here we are! Up until the first line break in the actual story was written last week when I was still sick so bear with me bc I'm not editing that shit. After that though, I'm gonna try and put some actual effort though because I feel a little bad about the lack of it in the last couple of chapters hehe. Also some more familiar characters show up so it should be fun.

The sickness that wasn't really a sickness remained constant for the whole week.

Throughout that week, he went through a whole box plus a little more of teabags and almost a whole tissue box while still going to work, that extra course for work, and patrol with no real rest days but no days off either since the only lasting symptom really at this point was his stuffy nose. Or runny nose. He wasn't exactly sure which one since it flip-flopped between the two every five minutes while also being both at the same time somehow. He guessed he was just that good to have both simultaneously.

He wasn't entirely sure if this actually was sickness anymore. He'd had it for a week, yet he was still yet to have a fever, but it also couldn't be allergies or something right?

Right?

Either way, it was annoying and didn't seem to be getting better or worse any time soon. So he was resigned to an existence of constant sickness. Symptoms?

Like he said, he didn't even know anymore.

Today was the weekend though, so at least he didn't have work. He could get a little extra sleep in the morning - ignoring the fact that because it was a weekend, he'd also taken the opportunity of a longer patrol but whatever - even if it still wasn't a rest day because he still had that extra training course whatever it was again that he was really kind of regretting now.

Alas, it was not to be though, since the first thing he saw when he woke up around 11 - after his nose cleared up enough for him to actually breathe through it and his throat no longer felt like sandpaper after another cup of tea - was an email from Wayne Enterprises.

We formally invite you to attend the semi-annual Wayne charity gala… tonight at 6pm-11pm… RSVP to this email address… would be honoured to have you as a guest… Wayne Manor… black-tie event… Yours truly, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake-Wayne (CEO) and the rest of the Wayne Enterprises family.

Well, that was just lovely. But a worthy excuse to not go to the course? A truly better alternative? Maybe, maybe not, since the timing was so that he'd only be able to leave the course early to be able to use getting ready for the gala as a proper excuse. Whatever, he'd go anyway; if nothing else then it was the perfect excuse to go see his family like he'd been planning to and maybe he could just stay overnight too. Bludhaven could probably last one night without him right?

The hours passed far too quick for his liking. To be fair, he'd spent most of the morning procrastinating and having no willpower or energy to do much more than sit on his couch curled up in a blanket and scroll on his phone. That was all before he came very close to crying when he realised he actually was supposed to do some homework for the course but when he opened it, it was too confusing for his tired and sick brain to understand at that moment and it only ended with him being frustrated so he stopped.

Too soon, he realised he only had an hour before he had to get ready for the course and then the gala after so he should probably get his suit out and stuff beforehand to save time. Bruce had personally texted him about an hour after Dick had read the gala invitation, and so had Tim, Damian, Jason surprisingly, along with Cass too and Alfred with the suggestion/offer of Dick coming to the manor an hour or two before the gala and simply getting ready there.

He'd answered to most of them by confirming he'd be there, likely making most of them happy to know they'd be seeing him after a while and Damian happy because then he wouldn't have to deal with his siblings and a gala without 'Grayson' which in his words 'would have likely been enough for him to seriously consider returning to his mother for the sole purpose of avoiding such ridiculous formalities.' He'd also decided that Alfred's offer sounded pretty good and while he did get his suit ready for the gala along with an overnight bag (even if he had plenty of stuff at the manor anyway), he decided to just take it all and get ready with his siblings at the manor.

All that was left to do was go to the course, leave a little early so he could throw his suit and duffel bag into his car and drive over to Gotham. Easy right?

His body had other plans.

During the course, he found himself being slightly irritable and anxious for no reason. All the bats had been taught to never ignore their gut feelings, but Dick could tell that this time, something was different. This was a nervous, restless feeling in his bones that just happened sometimes for no reason but set him on edge like nothing else. His throat stayed dry no matter how much water or tea he drank, and in some moments, breathing through his nose became incredibly difficult. On top of that, he was doing active stuff that in reality he barely had to pay attention to but still had to focus on the other things the instructor was saying.

By the time he left - despite leaving the class half an hour early - he still found himself exhausted by the end of it.

Maybe… maybe he shouldn't go to the gala after all, one part of his mind suggested as he drove back to his apartment to pick up his stuff. It was a viable option, to just stay home and finally take that rest day even if half of the day was gone already.

But while that half of his mind was considering that, the other half was too focused on how long it had really been since he'd seen his family, let alone all together like this. This half just wanted to be surrounded by the people he loved and balked at the idea of spending another day and night alone. Sick or not, he always felt better when he was around people.

Keeping that in mind, his brain thought up an alternative solution that met both needs.

Maybe he can drive down to the Manor, and just see how he feels then. If he feels up to it, then he goes to the gala and has fun. If he doesn't, then he just stays at the manor, surrounded by family anyway who can take care of him. Either way, he was planning to stay at the manor and he wanted to and gets to see his family no matter what.

In the end, that's the part of his brain he listens to and within thirty minutes, he's already on the road to Gotham with his suit and bag in the back of his car.

"Richard!"

The shout comes from the living room almost the second he steps inside the manor, the door not even closed behind him by the time the face to accompany the voice appears not soon after. Alfred barely spares a glance at the youngest and current Robin as he takes Dick's bags wordlessly, returning Dick's grateful smile with a small warm one of his own. As he disappears out of sight down the hallway, Dick turns to his youngest brother, holding his arms open for a hug which much to his surprise and happiness, he gets.

"Hey, Dami, how's it going?" He smiles down at his younger brother, hoping his exhaustion isn't too evident in the expression as he wraps his arms around the small boy.

"I am alright, though I find this gala of Father's an annoyance," Damian replies, as they separate from the hug. "I do not agree with sacrificing patrol for it, but I have been forced to attend nonetheless."

Dick smirks. "Yeah, I wasn't a fan of Bruce's parties either when I was younger, but then again, I didn't have you guys to mess around with or use as distractions so…"

Damian seems to consider Dick's point for a few seconds before he changes tactics and instead regards his oldest brother with sharp eyes.

"How are you?"

"Eh, the usual. A little tired but I'm okay." Little white lies, but harmless was all they were. Seeing Damian's eyes narrow slightly, he quickly veers the conversation to another topic. "Where are the others?"

Damian looks Dick over one more time before sighing, though it's difficult to tell whether he was satisfied by what he saw or simply deemed it a fruitless endeavour. Either way, he turns and walks down the hallway to the main part of the manor, talking as Dick follows behind him.

"I believe Drake is in his room, and Father is in his office. Todd should be arriving shortly, though I doubt he'll make good on his word that he will be coming at all."

They reach the living room and Dick sits down heavily on the couch. He's more tired than he should be but he tries not to let it show, ignoring the narrowed eyes that once again look over him.

"If Jason doesn't come then I'll just keep calling him until he does. He does not get a free pass if I don't."

Damian just hums absently and takes a seat beside Dick. "Pennyworth informed me you intend to stay the night."

Putting an arm around the smaller boy, Dick nods. "Yep. You're stuck with me until tomorrow, kiddo."

"Tt. A night is nothing."

"It's been a while since you had to spend more than a few days with me, Dami. I didn't want to overwhelm you with my presence by spending too long here in one go. You've forgotten what it's like."

Damian rolled his eyes when he looked up to see Dick's grin. "You give yourself too much importance."

"Just watch me tonight. You're gonna love it. Bruce may be Brucie, but I too have a role to fulfil as the playboy's oldest."

The horror on Damian's face made Dick laugh, even if it ended up with him using up more energy than he maybe had in that moment. It still felt so good to just laugh like that; it made him sad to think about how long it'd been since he'd laughed so openly and authentically. Wiping a stray tear - from the laughing, not the sad thoughts that tried to fill his head - he smiled at Damian.

"I'm kidding, Dami." He ruffled the boy's hair only to earn a disapproving frown that most definitely did not belong on a preteen's face like that but served to just make Dick's smile a little bigger. "Come on, tell me about what's going on with you. How's school going?"

They talked about small things for the next ten minutes, just sitting together with Dick patiently listening to Damian's rants about the incompetency of his teachers and fellow students and other things in life that were a bother to his young brother. It'd been too long since they'd talked about something not case related so there was plenty to catch up on.

Bruce came out from his office not soon after and Dick had a quick conversation with him about the lead he'd finally gotten around to heading up, only to find that there might have been a link between his case and a past Gotham one that Batman should keep an eye on. They exchanged some more pleasantries before Bruce had to leave to get ready for the gala and take care of last minute things, encouraging the boys to also start taking showers and getting suits on.

Grabbing some quick snacks from Alfred first, Dick and Damian both headed to their respective rooms to do as Bruce had said.

Alfred had already taken Dick's bag up to his room, and he was grateful for it. He wasn't entirely sure that he would have managed by himself if he was being honest, seeing as the stairs themselves had posed a greater challenge than they should have. Even without the extra weight, he flopped on the bed the second the door was closed behind him.

He was evidently still exhausted, but his nose was still stuffy and it was starting to make his whole head feel stuffed of cotton too. Just thinking about having to get up and walk all the way to his bathroom and take a shower made him lose the energy to do so, no matter how nice a hot shower felt right now.

Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Maybe he should have just stayed at home and taken the rest of the day to just sleep. Maybe he should just tell Bruce and Alfred that he wasn't feeling the best and didn't want to actually attend the gala. They'd understand, right?

But then again, he'd already made the effort to come all the way here…

He groaned as he got up, taking it in little steps. Roll over onto his back. Lever himself up to a sitting position, then stand up. Walk to the bathroom. Turn the water on so it can get warm. So on and so forth.

Fifteen long minutes later, he was in a shirt and pants. He had to admit that the shower had made him feel a little better, if not a little drowsy, but the formal clothing while slightly uncomfortable, did make him feel a little better too because it made him look better. It was something he'd observed about himself in many situations before. If he looked good, then he felt good, but he had to feel good to want to look good. The two were intrinsically intertwined, co-dependant, hand-in-hand.

In this case he only really looked good, but it did serve to make him feel the slightest bit better too. He still left his jacket to be put on later; he didn't have any wish to wear it much longer than absolutely necessary no matter how much it completed the three-piece-suit look.

Staring at himself in the mirror, he decided that he could probably do this. He'd be okay for the gala. He'd maybe even be good because all his brothers would be there - he still held firm to believing Jason would show up - and he was home.

And it was his home. No matter what happened, how many times he and Bruce fought, or something else happened, the Manor was ultimately his home at the end of the day. Even if he had his own apartment now, and the bases of multiple of his teams, the Manor was still the one place he could always rely on to protect him, support him, and the one place he ever truly felt safe.

Also the fact that he might be the only one in his whole family who could tie a tie without Alfred's help which always gave him an extra reassurance somehow. Didn't mean he could tie someone else's tie for them, so he couldn't really help his brothers - or so he said - but he could do his own and that was enough to hold against his brothers or even Bruce so he was happy.

For now though, he left his tie hanging around his neck. He didn't feel like suffocating himself just yet. So instead, he went out to check on his brothers.

"Dami, you need any help with your suit?"

The reply his brother gave was slightly muffled through the bedroom door, but he could still make out the irritated, "I am offended that you would even imply I cannot do the simple task of putting on clothes without assistance, Grayson. I am no child."

"You sure? You don't need help with your tie or anything?"

The door opened abruptly and Dick's badly hidden smirk was met with a murderous glare, though the effect was offset by the messy hair and shirt buttons that were asymmetrically done up.

Dick tentatively reached out a hand to smooth down the disgruntled boy's hair only for the same hand to be slapped away furiously. He settled with just biting his lip to stop from laughing - since he knew it'd only serve to further anger his brother - as he cleared his throat and tried to subtly point out the shirt buttons.

"I am aware," Damian forced out through clenched teeth.

"Why don't I help you do your hair at least? I promise I won't tell Tim or Jason anything."

Damian sighed. "Fine. I suppose it would save some time."

Dick grinned as he stepped inside the room. "Exactly. Now where's a comb?"

"Jay! You're here!"

Jason protested as he was enveloped in a hug almost the second he walked in the door by his beaming older brother. "Hey, watch it! You're gonna wrinkle my jacket."

"You're not in a suit Todd, what does it matter?"

"Yeah, hello to you too Brat. And for your information, leather jackets can wrinkle too. As for you, Dickie boy… yes, I am here, against my will but somehow Bruce along with Tim managed to make me promise to come to at least one of these semi-annual galas a year and since I didn't come to the last one… I was forced to come this time."

"I'm glad you're here anyway," Dick said quietly, his voice genuine. Jason softened slightly and finally hugged his brother back with a roll of his eyes for show.

"Yeah yeah, missed you too Dickface." He pushed Dick away after a few seconds, ignoring Damian standing a few feet away just like the younger boy was pretending to not notice their intimacy either. "Now come on, I still gotta get changed into a suit and I only have like, half an - oh wow, you look like shit."

"Yeah, wow, Jason, thanks for that." Dick looked affronted, but he contradicted himself by coughing softly a few seconds after, trying to act nonchalant about it when Jason narrowed his eyes at him. He pretended not to notice the way his younger brother's gaze flickered to behind him for a few moments, Damian likely regarding Dick with the same narrowed eyes which the older man could feel burning into the back of his head.

Jason's eyes flicked back to him. "You sure you're up for this Goldie?" he asked in a low voice, serious for once as hints if concern made their way into his eyes.

The reply Dick gave was in an equally low and quiet tone. "I'm fine Jay, it's just a cold or something. I'll be okay." He purposefully left out the fact that this cold had been persisting for the better part of a week and he hadn't really given himself time to actually get over it, but trivialities.

The judging eyes looked over him once more before Jason nodded, having made his own conclusion that he was satisfied with. When he spoke again, his voice was back to its usual level. "Whatever. I need to get changed, or else Bruce or Tim will be on my case. Speaking of, where is the Replacement?"

Damian was the one who answered this time. "I believe Drake has yet to leave his room."

"Really? I thought he'd be worrying over last minute stuff with Bruce?"

Jason shared a look with Dick that told him he'd thought the same. Damian just shrugged and the unanimous, silent decision was made. Twenty seconds later, the three brothers were outside the door of the fourth's.

In short, one thing led to another and not soon after, when Bruce walked by the room to check if his sons were ready or not, he found an interesting scene. Jason was restraining Tim, who thrashed and shouted while Dick gave took Tim's laptop and passed it to Damian with orders to hide it. The moment the four noticed Bruce staring from the doorway was a simultaneous one, and all of the, froze in silence. A second passed, then Dick gave a sheepish grin, visibly holding in a cough, Damian darted out past Bruce with the laptop under his arm which made Tim start shouting again and Jason react by throwing the boy onto the bed and sitting on him.

Bruce just sighed.

"Do I even want to know?"

There was silence again, but it was answer enough. He only sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just be ready in fifteen minutes okay? Alfred can help you with the ties, but I want you all dressed and in the ballroom at 5:30, got it?"

Dick grinned and gave a thumbs up before moving to Tim's closet and searching for his suit. Jason nodded and gave a mock salute, as he remained casually sitting on his younger brother, who only shouted again, spewing threats.

Bruce spoke up again. "Oh, and just don't hurt each other, please? I don't feel like having to explain why three of you have fresh bruises to every person I meet tonight okay? For the love of god, please just behave tonight?"

"You got it, B."

"Ooh, I'll try my best but no promises Bruce."

"Fine with me. I'll just get you two back later."

"Of course, Father. Won't be a problem."

Damian returned, laptop nowhere to be seen. Bruce just eyed him, before deciding to save his energy for the mingling and small talk he'd have to do later and merely nodding and promptly leaving. His suit made small rustling noises as he went back down the hallway and disappeared from view.

"Get off of me Jason!"

"Yeah, I think that's good Jay. You need to get ready too." Dick muffled a couple more coughs in the crook of his elbow, before holding up Tim's suit, ignoring the wary look he got from Jason and the eyes-narrowed one from Damian. "I can handle him from here."

Jason just shrugged and got off, unable to argue with the fact that he too was yet to get changed. He walked out the door, sharing a look with Damian that for once wasn't one of pure hostility. Dick pretended not to see it, instead turning to Tim who was sitting up and gasping for breath now that he wasn't being crushed under his older brother.

"Come on Timmy, in the shower you go. No more case-work. You have a gala to co-host in fifteen minutes."

Tim complied, though he muttered furiously under his breath as he passed Dick on his way to the bathroom, snatching his suit harshly from Dick's fingers as he went. Dick, for his part, only looked after his brother cheerfully, even as the bathroom door was slammed in his face. Another tickle in his dry throat made him cough and he again tried to be as quiet as he could, knowing without looking that Damian was looking at him with narrowed eyes yet again. Before his youngest brother could open his mouth, Dick stopped him.

"I'm fine. I just need some water." A lie. Well, the first part anyway; he could definitely do with some water, or tea, or cold medicine probably would be best but water was good too. Other than that, the gala hadn't even started yet and he was already exhausted. His limbs were starting to feel heavy but there was nothing he could do but pile it on top of the growing heap of things he was making an effort to ignore about his body.

The stuffy nose, the body aches, the new coughs and everything else that made him rethink his decision to be here once again, and once again reassure himself that he didn't have a fever so that meant he was fine. His body was handling it and so was he. It was only for a few hours then he'd stay here and have time to himself tomorrow because his family would be there just as company or to help him with anything if he'd need it. Just get through the night and he'd be fine.

Just a few hours. He could do that.

He'd managed worse.

He could do this.

He was done with this night already and they were only an hour in.

Compared to other galas he'd been to, there was nothing particularly boring or special about this one. He was always bored at events like this, but now that he had some siblings who could be there or even just the fact that he was old enough to waste time flirting, he could usually manage. Being bored was nothing new to him anyway; he knew how to deal with it.

Tonight though, his body was done. He'd tried mingling for the first little bit, before his social battery had exhausted itself already and he mainly just stuck around by Damian or another one of his brothers. Even that was an effort but he had no other option.

Three and a half more hours to go. He can… he could probably do this. Though maybe a breath of fresh air would be good.

Jason found him leaning against the balcony, joining him in looking out over the city. In the day, Gotham was just like any other place, but in the night it thrived. The night was where they in particular truly lived. Shows, movies and restaurants buzzed alongside muggings, kidnappings, and general threatenings. The contrast never ceased to amaze him, but none of that could be seen from afar. All he could see from here was a sky full of stars mirrored in the lights of the city below. In the dark, the good and the bad was invisible, hidden the same way Batman used it to hide himself.

Without the bad parts showing through, it was really quite beautiful.

"Finally, I can breathe!"

Dick let out a soft chuckle as he glanced at his brother beside him. Jason was currently loosening his tie, taking deep breaths and looking a little flushed. His brother noticed the flute of champagne in his hands and barely spared a glance at him as he snatched it.

"Gimme that."

The golden liquid was gone in a single swig.

"Slow down, no?" Dick raised an eyebrow but he was still smiling.

"If this is how it's going not even two hours in out of five, I think I'm gonna need to be a little drunk to even make it to the end."

"Bruce isn't gonna be happy."

"Bruce can go f - Bruce can't say anything. You seen the way he is right now? Brucie Wayne if I ever saw it."

"It's never really bothered you before, has it?"

Jason considered before a sour expression replaced the thoughtful. "No. But then some of the girls go after me." He shuddered. "I don't know how you two do it."

"It's all an act. Treat it like a fun role you get to play."

"Maybe. Maybe I'm just not the theatre type."

They fell silent, but it was a comfortable one. Dick turned back to looking out at the city while Jason turned to lean his back against the railing, eyes searching Dick's face. He spoke again after a few seconds, still looking at his brother.

"I've definitely seen 'Brucie' Wayne a couple times, but I've barely seen you at all tonight. Not that I really want to - you still look like shit - but… you sure you should be here?"

"No." He shocked himself with his honesty, but he was too tired. He didn't meet Jason's gaze as he continued, instead just letting his head drop into his hand. "I'm using up energy I don't have right now, but I can't just leave. I've been like this for the whole week, so what's one more day?" Jason opened his mouth to speak but Dick cut him off, finally looking at his brother. "I promise I'll take a day off tomorrow, though. That's why I'm staying the night."

Jason chewed his lip as he seemed to think over the words.

"Fine. But I don't think Bruce would mind if you left early and just slept. If I were you, I'd make any excuse to get out of this stuffy rich people whatever's going on here, but" - he held up a hand to stop Dick from cutting him off - "I'm not you, and you and I are very different. Just take care of yourself for once, okay Goldie? The only reason I'm not sitting on you too to keep you in place is because I'll wait until tomorrow to see if you hold to that. You know what'll happen if you don't."

Dick just smiled. "You worried about me, Jay?"

Jason looked away. "No. I just don't want to have to carry you when you inevitably collapse."

"I'm not gonna - " he started to protest, only to be cut off by a small coughing fit. He ignored the way Jason's eyebrow raised smugly.

"Tell yourself that, Big Bird. At least your body has better preservation skills than you and will eventually shut down just to get you to sit. Don't even try to deny it - I was the one to drag you upstairs last time that happened."

"Fine," Dick finally said. "But you won't have to do anything anyway because I promise, tomorrow's my rest day."

"Just have to get through tonight."

"Yep. Just three more hours."

"Is it bad I kind of hope there's another Arkham Breakout in the next few minutes or…?"

"I get where you're coming from, and I can't deny I've had the same thought many times before but… yes."

Jason just sighed. He took a second to take a deep breath, and left, patting Dick on the shoulder as he walked back in through the doors.

"Wish me luck."

Dick smirked after his brother. "Good luck. To the both of us," he added softly after Jason had already been swallowed by the crowd. He took a long breath himself, pasted a smile on his face, then followed his brother's footsteps until he too was gone into the crowd.

Three hours later, an exhausted Bruce, Tim, Jason and Damian were saying their farewells to the last of the guests making their way out of the door. The second the last dawdling lady was out of sight, having waved from inside her ride until it finally turned and drove away, Bruce closed the door and it was as if a curtain had dropped.

Brucie Wayne disappeared within seconds, the seductive smile gone to be replaced with sheer exhaustion, the latter of which was on everyone else's faces too.

"Another successful gala!" Tim said enthusiastically even though he looked ready to drop dead asleep right there. "And," he added, his smile growing wider, "no one got kidna-"

"Where's Grayson?"

Tim groaned at the interruption, but Bruce was suddenly alert as his other two sons looked around for the missing third. "What do you mean? When was the last time you saw him?"

"Relax. He probably just went to bed early," Jason pitched in. "He did not look great when I saw him a couple hours ago."

His words seemed to only work on Tim, having the opposite effect on Bruce whose eyes widened. "What?"

"He's not dying or anything," Jason hurriedly explained. "He's just a bit sick. Said he'd been like that for the whole week so I told him to leave early but he just told me he was planning to take tomorrow off. That's why he's staying here tonight."

"You three better hope he only went to bed early and is in his room right now," Bruce finally growled out, looking over his sons before stalking up the stairs. The three boys just watched him go. They understood of course that Bruce was just worried because unfortunately in their lives, being kidnapped at a gala was no unprecedented occurrence; in fact it was more common than any of them liked to admit. Especially if what Jason said was true - that Dick was feeling under the weather - then if he had been kidnapped, it could go really bad, really fast. So they spent little time in deciding to bound up the stairs after him.

Not soon after, they were standing outside of Dick's door. Bruce had already knocked softly, but they got no reply. It only made them worry the slightest bit more because he was probably asleep and that's why he hadn't answered. So Bruce slowly and quietly turned the doorknob and cracked the door open, peeking in.

When he froze was when the others pushed the door open further, light from the hallway spilling into the empty room.

"Is everything alright, sirs?"

They all jumped slightly at Alfred's voice coming from behind them, and they turned.

"Alfred! Have you seen Dick anywhere?"

"I am afraid not, sir. Shall I wait for you to search the manor, or shall I skip a few measures and go straight to checking the surveillance cameras?"

"It'd save time if you could start looking through the cameras while we search, Alfred, thanks." Alfred nodded and promptly left to follow Bruce's orders, which he continued to issue to his sons. "Damian, keep looking up here. Tim, you look downstairs. Jason, go check outside, and I'll check the Cave. Anyone finds him, or anything else, shout for the others or use the emergency comms. Understood?"

They all nodded and spread out, searching the manor systematically. Minutes was all it'd taken for them to go from Brucie Wayne and sons, to Batman and his Robins. Seven minutes passed before the message came through the comms they always wore.

"Found him, he's in the library!"

Three of them quickly made their way to where Tim stood waiting, joining him and Alfred who stood in the doorway of the library, staring at the sight within.

As they all crowded around, Jason couldn't help but scoff.

"I told him this would happen."

Inside the cozy room, books lined the walls as tables and plush couches filled the rest of the space. It was in one of these couches that Dick Grayson lay curled up, jacket half-falling off of where it was precariously hung on the back of the seat, tie undone and head leaned back with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. If it wasn't for the soft snores drifting out to the hallway, they would have thought he was dead.

Bruce was the first to step in. He made his way slowly to the chair, careful not to make much noise lest he wake the obviously exhausted boy. Crouching down next to his son, he gently placed his hand on his boy's forehead, trying to gauge if the slight flush on his face was sleep- or fever-induced. For now it seemed to be just sleep, but Bruce had no intentions of waking him up anyway.

Being Batman had a lot of pros and cons, but one thing he could never hate about it was the fact it forced him to stay in shape. There were many other benefits to that, but his favourite was that it meant he could still carry his sons if they needed it. This was one such moment.

He took his time with wrapping his arms around the boy and eventually lifting him up, managing to not disturb his son apart from a few moments of stirring and leaning closer to him. A rare true smile pulled on his lips as he looked down at his boy.

Glancing up at his other sons as he passed them on his way to Dick's room, he made a soft request for one of them to grab the jacket that'd finally fallen onto the library floor behind him. One of them moved to do as he asked, but he wasn't exactly sure whether it was Tim or Jason, one of the two being the most likely options seeing as Damian had darted past him already probably to get his brother's bed ready.

They all made their way up eventually anyway, and once Dick was settled in his bed with comfier clothes on, Bruce turned to his other sons outside of the bedroom, the door closed softly behind them.

"No one got kidnapped," he confirmed with another smile, met with four others as they all said their goodnights and headed away to their respective rooms for the night.

When Dick finally opened his eyes, late the next morning, it was to Jason's smug face at the end of his bed at the Manor.

He stared back for all of two seconds before deciding he wasn't dealing with this today and he promptly turned away and buried his face into his pillow, an action that served to not only hide the smirk in his brother's face, but also block out the noise of Tim and Damian arguing about whose right it was to Dick's other pillow. Thanks to the way they were making one side of his mattress dip, Dick knew exactly where they were without having to open his eyes again and he was quick to snatch the other pillow and use it to cover his head and block out everything else, creating a little pocket of peace and quiet.

For a few sweet, sweet moments, all was right in the world and he could relax to the point if almost falling asleep again, pretend everything in his life was great and he was free to just stay here, cozy and comfortable in his bed forever.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

A/n: See, this is why I usually either only write impulse fics as oneshots or I pre-write multi-chapter stories before posting. It took me a week to finish this chapter. I am so sorry, but if you're still here through one of the most painfully slow and possibly most guilt-inducing fics I've ever written, I am eternally grateful.

So yes, bit of an open ending. Had planned to just leave off with the last sentence being the one with Dick turning away from Jason, but if you're a fellow writer, you know how it goes, and if you're not, I'm sure you can guess. Still kinda am okay with it though. Drop a kudos, or a comment (though preferably one with something nice to say - ran into a bit of ridiculousness in another fic with… unfoundedly rude comments that I'm still deciding whether to laugh or report to someone about) but whatever you do, thanks for reading anyways.

Stay safe, be kind, and see ya soon.

- CrowofArcadiaOaks