Chapter 29

A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome back! Now, I know the last chapter wasn't my best. That was a difficult one to work. Anyways, sorry for the lack of updates, my semester started back up and it's kicking my ass. Trying to work on it when I can, but most of my time is mostly focused on surviving my classes.

/comms/

Telepathy/flashbacks

Gotham, November 11, 10:33EDT

The first thing Mike was aware of as he woke up was pain.

It was a dull ache in his head, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. But it was still enough to wake him up.

The teen groaned, tossing an arm over his eyes, hoping that he could go back to sleep. It had been a while since he'd had a morning like this. One where he woke up with a pulsing headache that would slowly develop into a migraine throughout the day. Mike had hoped his powers would've gotten rid of them, but it seemed like he was being proven otherwise.

Though, he wasn't sure how much of it was just due whatever change in the goddamn air initiated it and how much was due to his patrol with Canary last night. He had only gotten back at around four because Star's paramedics had decided to take their sweet time in checking him and his mentor over.

Granted it wasn't like he could blame them given the situation they'd come to. But that didn't mean it wasn't annoying.

They had gone to intercept a drug shipment he'd determined to be arriving that night. However, he'd miscalculated how many traffickers were going to be there that evening.

Apparently there had been some last-minute change of plans that he had missed when hacking into their network and several of the higher ups had chosen to come in to check on the new product. It had been both a beneficial and detrimental oversight. On one hand they had been able to deal an almost crippling blow to that particular gang. On the other, it meant the ensuing firefight had been all the more violent. Frankly he was amazed he'd only been shot once with how many bullets had been flying.

Unfortunately, their stormtrooper-like aim had resulted in several bags of high-end cocaine exploding into thick white clouds on the docs. And, it didn't help that a few minutes later he'd been blasted into the harbor by some jackass with a bazooka. Which resulted in him inhaling some freakishly cold seawater and he consequently spent a minute or two hacking up the stuff.

That had been fun.

Not an experience he'd like to repeat though.

Because, despite his healing factor, his lungs were still hurting from that.

Where the hell did that dude found a fucking bazooka anyways? He was pretty sure that it hadn't been there a few moments prior.

Unless they were smuggling weapons along with drugs. Which would explain why so many people were there that evening.

Refraining from facepalming at yet another apparent oversight, Mike slowly rolled onto his side, grimacing as the little movement had made the pain spike sharply.

It was going to be one of those migraines, wasn't it?

Taking a few deep breaths, he reached up with one hand, massaging his temples in a hope to relieve the building pressure. He really couldn't afford a migraine today. He had a test in calculus to deal with. And, there was also Wally's not-so-secret surprise party at the Cave that afternoon. He still needed to pick up the speedster's birthday card.

Slowly peeling his eyes open, Mike winced as the dim light bleeding through his closed blinds and curtains aggravated his headache.

Wait…light?

Ignoring his headache, Mike pushed past the pain as he sat up quickly, grabbing his phone. The blinding light from the damn thing made him want to bury his head under a cold pillow and just hide for the rest of the day. However, the time flashing on the screen made him throw those plans to the side.

"FUCK!"

Almost tripping himself as he scrambled out of bed, the teen flew to his closet practically ramming himself against the door as he tried to hastily pull his uniform. Of course, it didn't help that at that moment his head decided to feel like it was trying to split open. Crouching down on the ground, he massaged his temples, hoping the pain would go away so he could get ready for school. Or at least long enough for him to get an ibuprofen.

A soft knock that seemed impossibly loud came from the door. "Mikey? Is everything ok?" Henry's voice spoke as the door slowly creaked open. The man was quiet for a moment, and Mike almost opened his mouth to reply before he felt a hand rest on his back. "Hey," his godfather spoke again, his voice now a few tones softer. "You feeling ok?"

Mike hesitated before answering. He really needed to get to class, but it didn't seem like his guardian was in any particular rush to take him. And, if he was honest, he really didn't feel like going today.

Shaking his head just enough that it wouldn't aggravate his headache in reply, Mike looked away waiting for the man's inevitable exasperation for his weakness. However, instead of being scolded, a hand came to rest on his forehead. It felt nice and cool, making him nearly sigh with relief as some of the pressure alleviated.

He would be lying if he said he was disappointed when it left. "Looks like you have a small fever kiddo," Henry murmured. "Anything else? Nausea? Headache?"

Mike nodded at that, making a show of rubbing his temples to emphasize the source of his current discomfort.

His guardian winced in understanding. "Alright kiddo," he stood up, holding out a hand, "let's get you back to bed."

Accepting the aid, the teen slowly rose back to his feet. However, he shook his head at his godfather's suggestion, pointing to his backpack.

Following his gaze, Henry gave him a smile, pushing him back towards the bed, "Don't worry kiddo. It's a snow day. I'd show you," he motioned to the window, "but I don't think you'd appreciate it right now."

Mike nodded in confirmation, letting himself be nudged back under the warm covers. That certainly explained the migraine. He sometimes got them when the barometric pressure changed suddenly.

His mom did too from what he recalled. She almost always knew when the weather was going to change because of it. She used to call it the world's lamest superpower.

As someone who was suddenly spending an absurd amount of time with superpowered people, he was inclined to agree with that assessment.

Still, he was more than happy to have an excuse to toss his phone aside and go back to bed until the migraine subsided.

-.-

14:03EDT

Henry strode up the stairs, holding a tray in his hands as he went back to Mike's room. Despite the fact that the kid had pretty much been dead to the world since this morning, the man did his best to stay quiet. Michael's sleep had been fitful at best due to his migraine. And that was including their best efforts to keep the teen's room dark and quiet. So far the cold compress seemed to be the only thing making a dent in the pain, but it would only last so long before it would need to be replaced. Starting the cycle all over again.

Hopefully, the dosage of ibuprofen Dr. Thompkins gave him would be adequate enough to let the kid ride it out.

Lord knew how sucky those could be without the right meds. Henry had heard William complain plenty of how it had been when Clarissa had gotten her migraines. They were one of the few things that had been able to knock the normally unstoppable woman on her butt.

Though, this was the first he'd heard of Mikey having them. From the sounds of it he didn't have them as often as his mother did. So at least there was some good news.

Still he did feel bad for the teen. Henry had been fortunate in the fact he didn't get migraines very often—the last had been about a couple years ago from what he recalled. But, he did remember that he had refused to leave bed except to go to the bathroom or to throw up.

Fortunately, Mike hadn't thrown up. However, given that the teen had been hiding under the blankets all day and the worsening weather, Henry doubted he'd be going to his friend's party. Which sucked because he knew the kid had been looking forwards to it.

Knocking lightly, Henry slowly opened the door his gaze landing on the nest of pillows and blankets the boy had the audacity to call a bed. "Mikey?" he called out, keeping his voice low on the off chance the teen was awake. Not receiving a response, he stepped into the room, doing his best to balance the tray of food Efrem had prepared.

As expected, his youngest child was curled up in the mess, the cold compress miraculously still on his forehead as he cuddled with a large plush he'd gotten the teen when he'd been in the hospital. Henry hadn't been able to pronounce the animal's name, but it looked cute and Mike seemed to like it.

Setting the tray down, Henry stepped up to the bed, gently reaching out to rouse the teen. He felt bad; it looked like the kid had finally managed to fall into a restful sleep. But, unfortunately, Mike hadn't eaten anything substantial all day. He managed to drink a fruit smoothie earlier, but with the teen's metabolism he doubted it did much to help him recover from whatever chaos occurred from his patrol in Star. So, he needed to eat.

That and Henry did not want his son's sleep schedule to be more out of whack that it already was.

"Mikey," he murmured, shaking his shoulder. "It's time to wake up."

There was a groan from the nest and Mike pulled the blanket above his head. Hiding under the covers as if that would convince the man that he'd disappeared.

"I know, son," he cooed, gently nudging the shapeless form hiding in the blankets. "But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep."

Slowly, the sheets shifted and a pale blue-violet eye peeped out. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart," Henry agreed. While he wasn't particularly thrilled at the thought of letting the teen go back to bed, he was willing to allow it. Mostly because it got him to agree to eat. Secondly because he didn't doubt the kid needed rest considering his rather hectic schedule.

With an unhappy groan, Mike emerged from his hiding place, leaning against the mountain of pillows he'd created. The boy's skin was still a shade or two paler than its normal soft lavender tone and there were dark rings under his eyes and a flush across his cheeks.

Poor kid looked miserable.

Grabbing the pills from the tray, and a glass of water, Henry held out the medication. "Here," he said, "Dr. Thompkins said this should help with your headache."

Mike nodded, taking the pills quickly. "Thanks."

"Hopefully that helps. Anyways, Efrem made you tomato soup and grilled cheese," he said, grabbing the tray and setting it on the boy's lap. Sitting on the bed beside him, Henry refrained from reaching for the spoon to feed him like he would have with Sammy. However, unlike his eldest, Henry doubted Michael would've been as receptive to his fussing.

Not with how William had beaten the idea of needing help from others as being weak and pathetic into the child's head.

Instead, Henry settled on resting his hand on the boy's forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. As expected, Michael still had a fever. It seemed to have risen a bit from this morning, but not enough for him to start calling Dr. Thompkins yet.

"Anything in particular you want to watch kiddo?"

Mike paused, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.

Henry kept himself from sighing. He knew Mikey wasn't feeling particularly talkative today, but he had been hoping that the boy had been up to maybe putting on something he liked. Something that may've helped keep the nightmares at bay and let the boy sleep peacefully.

Grabbing the remote, Henry scrolled through his selection of movies, trying to find something he knew Mike would like. He ended up settling on Treasure Planet, remembering how Mike had dressed like the main character for two Halloweens in a row following the first time he saw it.

The man didn't miss how the teen's eyes lit up when he saw the movie start playing on the screen.

It had probably been some time since Mike had been able to watch this movie.

Leaning back, Henry sat back watching the movie, occasionally tossing a glance to his son to make sure the boy was eating. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the teen long to finish his meal, prompting the elder to set the tray aside as Mike laid back, curling into Henry's side.

Smiling to himself, Henry reached up, running his fingers through the teen's hair. He didn't often get to spend time like this with Mike. Not between his work and the teen's school and extracurricular activities. Sure there were the days when the kid didn't have those and they just hung out, but that usually only for dinner before Michael ran off to go through his father's case for the thousandth time, train in the gym, paint, or go tinker in the workshop.

It was like the kid refused to give himself a break.

So it was nice to see the kid taking one. Despite the fact that he had to get sick for that to happen.

The form by his side shifted, prompting the man to look down. Mike had fallen back asleep while he'd been lost in thought. Chest rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. Pausing the movie, Henry moved to a show he'd been watching recently. This way the kid could pick up where he'd left off.

That and it would keep Henry from falling asleep. Someone had to keep the nightmares at bay.

A/N: Hey everyone. Hoped y'all enjoyed the update. I know it's not my best work. This chapter's been fighting me, but I figured y'all'd appreciate it.