Chapter 3
"He hasn't been eating," Dick sighed the next morning as he reapplied the wet washrag to Tim's forehead. His fever had spiked over the course of the night, leaving him more flushed and drained of energy. Tim's eyes were opened, but glazed as his surroundings appeared surreal to him. He was still laying down, his eyes half open, like he was ready to doze off again. His energy seemed to fade with every breath he took, even after all the sleep he had. Dick had changed Timmy earlier into some new pj's, keeping the front unbuttoned on his nightshirt to prevent him from overheating but covering him with a sheet and thin blanket. Ace never left the boys side. He was constantly nuzzling the boys face and occasionally whining.
"Master Bruce is doing all he can for him," Alfred said as he changed the IV bags once more. The boy still wasn't drinking on his own either so the butler had to be sure to monitor his fluid intake. Tim's complexion was no longer blue, but pale and clammy. Aside from the slight flush on his face. It was definitely more than just the flu now. Something was wrong, very wrong.
"Timmy, can you hear me?" asked Dick worriedly as he waved his hand over Tim's eyes, hoping to get a reaction. "He's not responding to anything either," Dick frowned as he pulled his chair closer to the boys bedside, wiping the sweat from Tim's face with the wet washrag. "Timmy, please, say something. I-I know you probably don't remember anything, but please say something," Dick insisted as he lightly took the boy's small hand in both of his. It was cold. All Tim did was stare into space, his vacant eyes becoming heavier with every passing moment. He was like an empty shell, his spirit seeming to fade. Dick worriedly brushed the damp bangs away from Tim's face, wishing he could do more for his little brother as he looked down at him.
"Bruce gave me the results, he's working on an antidote," another young man walked in the room, but with green eyes and black hair. He was a bit taller than Dick, but he was definitely younger by the facial features.
"Jason, geez don't scare me like that! You're turning into Bruce," Dick breathed after catching his breath from the boys sudden appearance. Jason gave Dick a look of disgust.
"I'm anything but Bruce, you're falling in his footsteps faster than any of us," Jason said coldly as he sat on the other side of Timmy. "I'm not going to chocolate coat this news. Babybird is fading, and by that I mean mind wise, and eventually physically," Jason said as Dick's eyes shot up to look at Jason.
"What are you saying? What's happening to him? Does Bruce even have full details?" Dick asked hastily as Jason put a hand to his own forehead, aware of a migraine forming.
"Just shut up, dick. I'm getting to that. He said that this is a serious infection, made by both Poison Ivy and Parasite. Apparently they used Tim here as a test subject. Bruce managed to separate both poisons. Poison Ivy's has to do with his memory loss. It's why he's having this whole amnesia problem. Parasite's toxin is making Babybird ill and it's increasing over time," Jason explained as Dick began to understand their circumstance more.
"We aren't sure if all of his memory will return, but we can still get him back to at least being aware of his surroundings, as well as getting over this flu virus," Bruce explained as he came into the room. "The Batcomputer is still working on the cure. The best we can do for now is keep his temperature low, and him comfortable," Bruce advised as Tim's eyes shot open at the new voice in the room, his eyes once blue now showing signs of being red and bloodshot. He knew that voice but, who was it? He saw a man looking down at him, his face so familiar as Tim tried to sit up but let out a moan instead.
"Tim?" Dick said as he saw Tim's reaction to Bruce's presence. Bruce took a seat by Dick, placing a hand on Tim's head comfortingly as he lightly stroked his head. He still wasn't used to consoling others, but his fatherly instincts seemed to act on their own, bringing the boy some relief as his heavy eyes finally closed.
"Should we really let him sleep Bruce?" asked Jason, a hint of concern in his tone. "He looks like he's not going to wake up." Ace seemed to whine in agreement, lightly sniffing at Tim's hair.
"Yes, sleep is what has been helping his immune system fight off what it can. Keeping him awake will only weaken him faster," he explained as he watched his youngest child sleep, the rise and fall of his chest evening out.
"Wouldn't a temporary coma be better then?"
"No Jason, if we dose him too much, he might not have the strength to wake up. Natural sleep is the best we can give him. The antidote should be ready soon anyway, but I need all of you to help out. We don't know how long he is going to be without his memories, so you may have to repeat things to him, a lot," Bruce said while looking at Jason. "We're all going to have to be patient with him."
"Hey, I can be patient, at least with Babybird I can," Jason said quietly while watching his brother sleep. He had gradually over the course of the year began to bond with Tim. He wouldn't admit it right away at first, but his new baby brother was probably what saved him from killing other people. Those innocent blue eyes looking up at Jason, they were mystifying in their own way. Any hint of pain in them made Jason want to backhand anyone who hurt his brother.
~~Later that Night~~~
Timothy's eyes barely opened, seeing four figures surrounding him as his eyes tried to focus. The lighting was dim in the room. Only his eyes could seem to move as he felt warmth wrapped around him. His breathing was raspy and much slower as he could feel sweat dripping down his face. He was getting weaker, perhaps that's why he felt the light taps on his face, or coaxing murmuring from above him, either way, Timmy's mind, what was left of it, began shutting down as his thoughts slowly went blank. The world around him began to warp.
"Come on son, fight it," a voice said above him gently as Tim's faded blue eyes continued to flutter open and closed. His face was still warm and flushed, a cool compress lightly pressed against his brow. He felt himself being lifted up gently and placed on a warm lap. Before he could figure out what was going on, he lost consciousness, his weight heavy against the mans broad chest as his head fell forward.
"This is the main dose he needs, so hopefully it will be cleared out of his system soon," Bruce said quietly as he gently took Tim's arm, for the final time (it had already been administered twice), swabbing it lightly with rubbing alcohol before carefully inserting a small needle into it, injecting the last of the antidote. Tim didn't stir. "His fevers been steady now, but he's still fatigued," Bruce mentioned while hanging onto Timmy close in his arms, Tim's head now leaning back up against Bruce. The fear was evident in Bruce's eyes, he was terrified at the possibility of losing a son. His youngest was close to death, and he barely escaped. He rarely would hold any of his sons in such a way, but he had to, he had to be sure his son was still alive in his arms. It was bad enough thinking he lost Tim in the fire. It was like having him die twice.
"He's going to be okay, Bruce," Dick said as he knelt by Bruce's side, lightly stroking Tim's bangs, avoiding the bandages above them. "You said so yourself that his will is strong. He won't go that easy," Dick insisted as Bruce nodded, still clinging to Tim while he slept off what hoped to be the last of the poison in his veins. His breathing did seem to even out.
"I know Dick, I just... if you didn't find him, then he would have suffered in that alley alone, and would have died in pain," Bruce said quietly, avoiding using as much emotion as he could before lightly placing Timmy in Dick's arms. "I-I need to step out for now, keep him close," Bruce said, standing up.
"We'll take care of you Timmy. B-man, Jason, and I won't let you go just yet," promised Dick as he carefully laid Tim back on the bed and covered him up, lightly kissing his forehead before applying a new compress to it. "Do you want to stay up tonight with us, Jay?" asked Dick as Jason shrugged his shoulders.
"I've got nothing better to do," he said, not trying to act concerned, although Dick knew full well Jason was worried.
