Chapter 2
The Next Day
The faint sound being heard was a beeping. Then came other soft sounds of deep breaths, and later soft snores. Tim's head was aching as his eyes fluttered opened a little. He was barely aware of his head being wrapped with some bandage. Nothing came in clear as he felt a hand lightly place itself against his forehead. It was freezing as Timmy's head moved up a little from the contact. He felt a motion of vertigo pass over him as he tried to focus his eyes, a weak groan escaping his mouth. Tim's arm was bandaged, and he felt a numbing, tingling sensation in it. He was dressed in a long sleeved shirt with pj bottoms. Right in front of Timmy, a dog was curled up, lightly licking his face as Tim blinked repeatedly, trying to comprehend what was going on around him.
"It's okay there, young master," came that smooth sounding voice that sounded familiar. "You still have a temperature," the voice continued gently, sounding concerned as well as disappointed as Timmy's eyes could make out the figure above him. Tim thought it was a butler, but he wasn't sure as he seemed to be some sort of doctor as well. His mind was trying to work what was going on as the beeping seemed to repeat faster. "You have nothing to be afraid of here," the man insisted as he changed the IV bag on the stand. Tim struggled getting up, but was still feeling lethargic, his moves sluggish. The dog whined softly against him, probably smelling the dried blood. Tim seemed to be laying on a giant bed, and it made him feel even smaller than he was, nearly drowning in the warm sheets and blankets. The bed was a huge canopy bed, but it looked familiar. It felt like there was another source of warm weight surrounding him aside from the dog nestled up against him. "I suggest you lay low for a while, I don't think Master Richard will be moving right away."
Master Who?
Tim was suddenly aware of the warm sensation on his side and around his stomach. He was being hugged, and could feel someones hand gently holding his tiny one that had the IV needles in his wrist. Tim's breathing was shallow as he began to feel his own exhaustion catch up with him, weighing him down helplessly.
"He was determined not to leave your side even after 12 hours of sitting," the older man smiled a little to himself. Timmy was about to ask who Richard was before his eyes began closing on him. A wave of sleepiness came washing over him. A slight speed in Tim's heart kicked in at panicking, until it began to even out and slow, the beeps delaying.
"Wh...who's Richard?" Timmy slurred drowsily, his head falling heavier against the pillow, lightly bumping the chin that was beside him that continued to snore. His eyes were barely opened as they continued to droop, growing too heavy for him to flutter open again as his body slacked. Timmy's hand twitched a little, wanting to hang onto the warm hand but having no strength as he warped into a heavy, much needed sleep. For once in his slumber, he looked at peace.
Dick felt the tiny hand in his move a little as he opened his eyes, feeling Timmy's head now nestled up against his chest. Dick firmed his grip a little more on Tim's hand, enough to show that he was there as he felt Timmy's breathing even out. The dog continued to whine a little, nuzzling against the smaller boy.
"How long was I...?"
"About four hours, Master Richard," Alfred answered punctually as he draped another blanket over Dick and Tim. "It's 3am and I was just making my rounds."
"How is he?" asked Dick softly, not wanting to wake up the boy as he gently pulled him closer in his embrace, afraid to let go of him. He gave the dog a light pat on the back. "It's okay Ace, he's just napping."
"Better. He still has a fever, but its lower. Master Timothy is still weak and has a flu bug. I am hoping you don't catch it so I suggest you take medicine like he is," he added as Dick nodded in understanding. "He also has a head wound, as you are well aware of."
"I'm glad its not pneumonia," he breathed a sigh of relief as Alfred nodded his agreement. "As for his injury, I hope it heals fast. We need to look it over later. I think Ace seems pretty worried about him too."
"Indeed, sir. On another note, Master Bruce just arrived in Gotham. He was being held up off in the Atlantic."
"Yea I heard about the prison break. They tried stealing a ship and leaving the country. Idiots," Dick said as his eyes closed for a moment. Bruce would be so relieved to see Timmy home. Dick felt Tim's forehead lightly with his freehand, noticing Tim trembling in his sleep, as well as the excessive heat radiating off of his head. "Alfred, could you-?"
"I am already aware," the butler said as he was placing the cool compress softly over Tim's brow. Timmy's unsteady shifting and faint moaning slowly went away as his body settled down. Dick was gently ruffling Tim's head comfortingly, avoiding the back of his head where he was injured. He could see the perspiration forming on Tim's face. He was still fighting the fever.
"Must have been having a nightmare. The poor kid," sighed Dick as he heard hasty footsteps echoing from the hallway. Bruce's well-known figure sped off right by Tim's side, his blue eyes looked over at Alfred.
"How is he?" he asked his butler, concern evident in his voice.
"Sick and injured, Master Bruce, but he will live," said Alfred calmly as Bruce sighed and looked back over towards the bed. He pulled a chair up closer to the side, carefully pushing Ace to the side so he could get a better look at Timmy.
"I see you made yourself at home," Bruce said with a hint of amusement in his voice, seeing Dick behind Timmy who was still resting, grinning. He was both glad and grateful Dick was watching over Tim.
"I'm the oldest brother, and I'm allowed my cuddling rights," he insisted as Bruce lightly stroked Tim's head, frowning at the heat he felt diverging from the boy. He should have found him, but there was nothing left to the place. The boy was nowhere near where the fire was. "He was looking like a smurf when we brought him here yesterday," Dick said as his eyes worriedly looked down at Tim. "I knew he was still out there, I just knew."
"Did either of you take a blood sample?" asked Bruce. "We need to be sure that there isn't any unwanted pathogens in it. The way Gotham is, I would be surprised if there wasn't anything in it."
"It has been analyzed. There was an uncharted component in it. I suspect it has something to do with his memory being off," informed the butler as Bruce gave Alfred and Dick a funny look while Dick let out a sigh.
"When I found Timmy and got him to wake up, he didn't even recognize me. It's only been three days, aside from today, so we think whatever is in that blood sample, altered his memories or even started as a clean slate. It could also just be the concussion or fever."
"The poor lad doesn't even know his own name," frowned Alfred as Bruce grew a little more worried.
"It may explain how he survived, but someone must have taken him not too long after the fire and drugged him," Bruce said as he frowned a little.
After several hours, Bruce lightly pat the tiny boys head one last time, then stood up. Dick was fast asleep on the bed as well, never leaving Tim's side as he continued to hold the small boy close.
"Keep me updated on his condition," Bruce said to Alfred who nodded knowingly. "I need to see what's in his blood."
