What Do You Have There?
A knife!
Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.
They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.
The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.
A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.
"Danny."
"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.
"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."
Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.
"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.
Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.
"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"
"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.
"Why on earth would you display that?"
"Because you stabbed me with it?"
"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"
"That would be mean!"
Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.
"Do you want to see my collection?"
"Your collection?"
"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."
Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.
"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"
Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.
"And when was this?"
"Oh, like a week ago."
"What? When did you go to the docks?!"
"At night. I couldn't sleep."
"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"
"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"
"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"
Danny and Damian turned around.
"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.
"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.
"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."
"What?!"
"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"
With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."
Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"
"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.
Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.
"Oh, wow, I see!"
----
In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.
"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.
----
Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.
"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.
"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.
"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.
"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"
"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."
Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.
"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.
"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."
Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."
And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.
"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."
"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.
"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.
"Do you know which vigilantes?"
"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."
Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.
"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."
Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.
"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."
"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."
"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"
Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.
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Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!
Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff
Jokes On Me
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Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.
Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.
Word Count: 2.5k
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
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“Y/N, turn that shit off.”
Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad.
“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly.
“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience.
Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought.
You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency.
“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.
“What now?” He somewhat snapped.
“We have a problem.”
Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit.
Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.
When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage.
“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it.
“Who?”
The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond.
“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”
“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth.
Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.
The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”
“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”
The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”
His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”
With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack.
The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone.
~
Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin.
“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.
You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion.
“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”
“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped.
The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.”
He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”
~
Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge.
The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up.
“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.”
It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see.
It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again.
The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching.
Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail.
“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”
Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place.
“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”
Jason twitched.
“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”
The transmission cut to black.
~
It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls.
You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon.
It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city.
They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you.
Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically.
Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away.
“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself.
“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”
You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest.
He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”
Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”
Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”
You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety.
~
You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely.
It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke. You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over.
“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke.
You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged.
“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”
You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”
“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”
“But-”
“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”
“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”
Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle.
“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”
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BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish
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Hi!
I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if I could request the Batboys with an s/o who passes out from a fever.
I hope you’re doing well!!
Passing Out From A Fever - Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Wally West
Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Wally West x gn! reader (separately)
Genre: hurt/comfort
Summary: your s/o reacting to you passing out from a fever
Word Count: 1.2k (Dick's), 1k (Jason's), 1.1k (Tim's), 1.1k (Wally's)
CW: sickness/the flu, minor injuries, reader is stubborn and refuses to rest, fainting, established relationship? gn reader but Wally refers to you as a 'damsel in distress', violence + drugs/drug dealers (Jason's) lmk if i missed anything
okok so sorry anon this request is almost 4 months old lmfao. i got a little sidetracked doing other stuff for a while but it is finally here. hope you enjoy it despite how delayed it is
--
Dick
Dick looks at the numbers on the digital thermometer with a sigh. “Your temperature’s only going up.”
“Is that a bad thing?” You try to joke but your whole body aches, your skin is feverish and clammy, and your head spins every time you open your eyes.
He looks at you seriously, giving you the signature Dick Grayson disappointed older brother, team leader look.
“I take it no patrol tonight?”
He rests his hand on your thigh. “Not a chance in hell.”
“I figured as much,” you grumble.
“I’ll stay in with you tonight,” he insists, giving your leg a squeeze. “We can watch a movie or something. I’ll even let you choose.”
You let out a deep breath, leaning back and resting your head against your cold bed frame. His offer is tempting—it's not often he stays home during the evening. “Okay,” you nod your head slowly. “We’ll stay in tonight.”
He beams at your decision, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead before jumping up and leaving you in your bed. “I’ll be back in an hour, alright?”
You offer a weak thumbs up before relaxing back into your nest of blankets and pillows. It won’t hurt to sleep a little while he’s out, and you are pretty tired.
—
You wake up hours later, Dick nowhere to be seen. Your whole body feels like it’s been set on fire and beat with a baseball bat, but you still struggle out of bed to go find your boyfriend. Of course, he’s nowhere to be seen.
You narrow your eyes, a sinking feeling in your chest because you know exactly where he is. Your hunch is proved right when you open the closet door with shaky hands and see the empty hanger where the Nightwing costume should be.
What happened to staying in tonight? No patrol?
The thought of him leaving you while you feel this sick lights a fuse in your chest, and before you know it, you’re lazily tugging your own suit over your limbs. The suit only makes you feel hotter, your muscles aching in protest, but you need to see him.
By some miracle, you manage to stumble your way across Gotham in the dead of night while dealing with an extremely high fever and body aches.
Still, your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. You followed the trail of beaten thugs and failed robberies straight to the centre of the city, but Nightwing wasn’t there. You feel slightly woozy, your knees shaking below you.
Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you take it out, the writing blurry on the small glowing screen. You squint but the letters spin on the screen, and you can’t seem to make them out.
In fact, when you look up from the screen, the whole world is spinning. Your head feels impossibly heavy, and suddenly your body is pitching forwards.
————
Dick knows he’s fucked when he gets home and you’re nowhere to be seen. He sees the open closet door and the empty hanger where your costume should’ve been, and groans.
If only he had just stayed home like he said. Guilt overwhelms him, but he swallows it back and forces himself to push through.
You shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone roaming the city dressed as a vigilante. Dick cards his fingers through his hair and starts to make his way through the city again.
He assumes you were trying to find him, so he circles back through his usual patrol spots. The longer it takes to find you, the more anxious and guilty he feels.
It’s all his fault that you’re even in this mess, stumbling through the city sick and disoriented.
He finds you unconscious on a rooftop, tucked away in a corner, a small cut on your face from what he assumes was the impact. Seeing you like this makes his heart drop and for what feels like a thousand years, he watches you and waits for your chest to rise. He stares, holding his own breath until he finally sees your lungs inflate with air.
He’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you back to the apartment in an instant, careful not to jostle you too much. He can feel your feverish skin through your costume, sweat pooling on your forehead and neck. He could set a record for how fast he had you home.
He changes you out of your suit and into comfortable pjs, patching up the mark on your face and tucking you into bed. He’s always taken care of his younger brothers so he knows just how to take care of you.
He puts an ice pack on your forehead to keep you from burning up too much and gets water and ginger ale for your nightstand. He knows you’ll need fluids and medicine when you wake up and he wants to be prepared.
Even after he’s prepared everything and double checked his, his nerves don’t settle. You’ve been out cold for at least an hour, with no sign of waking up. Another hour of this and he’ll have to take you to the hospital.
He paces the room, eyes never leaving your sleeping figure. Wake up, wake up, wake up. He tries to will you awake, hoping your eyes will open any second and you’ll berate him for leaving you.
“Dick..?”
His pacing comes to a stop, eyes snapping to yours. “Oh, thank god,” he kneels next to your side of the bed and takes your hand in his. “How’re you feeling?”
As if on cue, you groan in pain. The ice pack he placed on your forehead does little to help with the heat that’s ignited your whole body. Your eyes feel painfully heavy, and all of your muscles feel inflamed.
He holds a glass of water up to your lips, helping you tip your head back so you can drink some. He pops a couple pills into your mouth and pours some more water in to wash them down.
“They’ll probably take fifteen minutes to work,” he keeps his voice quiet. “You’ll feel a lot better soon though, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re all better.”
You nod weakly. “You—you left me…”
Dick’s heart breaks at the sound of your sad, weak voice. He was hoping you wouldn’t dwell on that too much, the reminder that his fuck up for you into this mess weighing heavily on him.
“I know, baby. And I’m so, so sorry. There was an emergency and I thought I could sneak out quick but,” he sighs and tugs on his hair. “I’m not gonna leave your side until you’re all better, okay? Never again.”
You’re too tired and sick to care for grovelling, you’re just glad he’s here and you don’t have to suffer alone. You reach a hand out to grab his hand and weakly tug him towards the bed.
Dick obliges, crawling in next to you and letting you rest on his chest. “I’m gonna make you all better, hm? You’ll be all better soon, hun.”
His soothing voice coupled with the circles he traces on your back are enough to keep you content until the medicine kicks in. Then, you’re drifting back to sleep in Dick’s arms, already feeling better from the turmoil of the day
-
Jason
You think Jason may be the most dense man on the planet. Unlike his father, his detective skills seriously need some work.
When you woke up this morning with a fever and aches, you were sure you could push through it. It’s just a little cold, or so you thought. As the day turned into night and you got ready for patrol, your symptoms only worsened.
Your body aches grew worse, your fever grew hotter and your movements got sluggish. Still, you brushed it off. You never miss patrol with Jason, and tonight wasn’t going to be a first.
“You’re off to a slow start,” he teases.
You would roll your eyes if you weren’t so tired. “Shut up. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
It’s a total lie, of course. And if he could see the swelling of your glassy eyes or touch your boiling skin, he would know otherwise. Lucky for you, the adrenaline rush Jason gets on patrol creates a kind of tunnel vision that allows him to completely overlook your symptoms.
You stumble a bit, having to brace yourself against one of the shipping containers. You’re glad Jason shot out all of the street lamps at the old dock, leaving you in perpetual darkness. A perfect cover to hide the pain you’re feeling.
You take a deep breath and groan, pushing off of the container and running to catch up with him. The friction only makes you hotter, the air being forced from your lungs. Your head spins and black spots crowd your vision, but you take a weak breath and force them away. Now is not the time to be weak.
Jason tilts his head at you, and you can feel his judging eyes from under the mask. “Seriously, are you okay? Did you get hurt or something?”
“Did you? You’re off your game too, Red.” You try to nudge him teasingly but it just sends a shockwave through your body, your head suddenly pounding.
He looks like he’s going to say something you don’t want to hear but you’re saved by the bell when an unlucky drug dealer stumbles into view. Jason is pouncing on him in a minute, leaving you to your thoughts.
His form gets blurrier the more you watch him fight, and you swear your arms and legs are growing heavier by the second. Your head lulls back and you worry for a minute that you’re going to pass out.
You manage to catch yourself, pinching your arms to keep yourself aware. It works, but only for a second. You have enough time to make eye contact with Jason before your eyes are rolling back and you’re dropping like a sack of potatoes.
—
Jason is freaking the fuck out. For a minute, he’s worried you’re injured—or worse. All he saw was your panicked expression before you dropped to the pavement. If he wasn’t so worried, he would have laughed at your lack of grace.
He makes quick work of the remaining drug dealers, tearing through them with all the anxiety he’s feeling. By the time he’s made it to you, your body is practically on fire. He flinched away at first, not expecting your skin to be as hot as it is.
“You idiot,” he lifts you into his arms, letting your head hang over his shoulder. “You should’ve just told me you were sick.”
He forces himself to keep his calm demeanour the whole way to the apartment. He doesn’t let himself worry until you’re both changed out of your patrol clothes and into normal, ordinary pyjamas.
He has you laid down in the passenger seat of his car, his foot pressing heavily on the gas the entire way to the hospital. He knows it’s just a fever, but you fainted. Something could be seriously wrong, and he can’t chance anything. Not with you.
—
You come to in the hospital, an IV in your arm. It takes a few blinks for you to take in your surroundings, but even then, it’s hard to keep your eyes open. Your throbbing headache does not mesh well with the fluorescent lights.
“Jason,” your voice is barely a whisper. “Did you take me to the hospital?”
“No shit,” he scoffs. “
You would laugh at his brazenness if you weren’t in so much pain. The scratchy cotton thread of the hospital blankets aren’t enough to keep you warm, and despite being covered in sweat, you’re shivering.
Jason sighs. “You’re an idiot, you know that? You could’ve just told me you were sick.”
“I-I—,” you can barely speak with how bad you’re shivering.
Jason’s heart hurts at the sight of you, and despite how frustrated he is with your antics, he climbs into the bed with you and lets you lay against his chest.
You relax into him, trying to sap his body heat. You know this can’t exactly be comfortable for him, especially considering you’re a million degrees, and it makes you appreciate it even more.
“You know, I thought about just tossing you in the harbour and calling it a day.”
You let out a weak laugh at that. “I’m sure you did.”
“Okay, maybe not,” he admits, “but if you ever do that to me again, you will be taking an impromptu swim.”
“As you wish, Jay.”
He kisses the top of your head, “get some rest, hm?”
You nod weakly, letting your body sag against his. Just as sleep begins to take you, you mumble, “I love you.”
Jason’s heart flutters at your words. “I love you too.”
-
Tim
Tim is such a hypocrite.
When he pushes himself to his absolute limit, staying up until he quite literally drops, it’s fine. But god forbid you try to push yourself even the slightest, or there’s hell to pay from your boyfriend.
“Tim, I’m fine,” you insist, narrowing glassy eyes on him.
He raises his eyebrows in annoyance. “You’re not fine, y/n. You’re burning up. You’re so congested you sound like a little kid. You need rest.”
“Rest, schmest. I’m coming with you.”
“Y/n, honey, love of my life…if you try to come with me, I will slip you Nyquil and you will take a nap.”
You maintain your glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Maybe I already have,” he shrugs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “How was the tea I brought you earlier?”
Your eyes shoot wide and you scramble to inspect the now empty Wayne Enterprises mug. There’s no indication that it looks or smells different from any other tea. You look up again, ready to mock laugh at your boyfriend, but he’s no longer there.
“Fucking Timothy,” you shake your head.
He’s been trying to force you to get bed rest all day, refusing to even let you come with him to the grocery store. Sure, you have a fever and you’re congested and your head really hurts, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay in bed.
You toss the blankets onto the other side of his bed and struggle your way out of it. The air outside of his bed is cold, forcing goosebumps onto your arms, but you don’t care. You tug on one of Tim’s sweatshirts and stumble your way downstairs.
He’s gone when you get down there, the only semblance of human life being Alfred sitting at the kitchen table. He’s reading a newspaper, seemingly deep in thought, yet the minute you step towards the front door, he speaks.
“If you are trying to follow Master Timothy, I would advise against that.”
“I-I wasn’t…how did you know?”
He smiles at you, “Master Timothy expected you would try to follow him, and asked that I make sure you rest.”
“Damn you, Tim.”
“I’ve prepared some water in the kettle and there are blankets on the couch if you’d like to watch a tv show with me?”
“That sounds great, thank you,” you sigh, giving up and trudging your way to the couch.
You settle in under a blanket, leaning your head against the couch cushion. Alfred comes in a few minutes later with two glasses of tea and a bottle of medicine.
You thank the man and take a few pills and the mug of tea, swallow down the pills and set the tea on the nightstand.
Alfred turns on the TV and starts to play one of his English soap operas. The sounds all blur together and you fade in and out of consciousness, every once and a while snapping back to reality when you hear the door unlock.
Of course, a million people seem to come and go from Wayne Mansion and your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Alfred has seemed to doze off as well, his eyes closed and head resting on the couch cushion behind him.
You stand up from the couch on shaky legs, discarding the blankets next to you. You feel dizzy and lightheaded as soon as you stand up but you persevere.
You’re not really sure where you’re going, all you know is that you want to see Tim and the first step is getting to the front door. You make it to the front entrance, and you’re only five feet from the door, but your whole body hurts so bad and you’re so tired and everything is so hot and cold.
You brace yourself on the wall, leaning your whole body weight on it. You blink a few times, trying to keep the black spots from spreading to your vision. Everything overheats, and your muscles start to weaken. Before you can take another step, your body is failing, and your vision is going black.
—
Tim comes home just in time to see you hit the floor. He drops his groceries onto the floor, not even closing the door behind him as he runs to your side.
“Y/n?” He presses a cold hand to your forehead, “y/n, wake up!”
He gently shakes your shoulders, willing you to wake up and be okay. His family all arrive at once, staring at the two of you on the floor.
“Why couldn’t you just stay in bed? Dummy.”
He slips his hands under your knees and arms, lifting you off the ground. Your skin is hot to the touch but you’re shivering, sweat rolling down your temples. He carries you back to his room, laying you down in the bed and covering you in blankets.
He knows rationally that you’ll be okay, that your body was just responding to the exertion you put it through today. But emotionally? He’s freaking out. He can’t help but wish he’d stayed home with you, taken care of you himself, laid in bed with you all day.
Tim tries to distract himself by bringing up water and medicine and a cold cloth for you, but it does little to calm his nerves. Every minute that it takes you to wake up, he only gets more and more anxious.
Finally, after almost two hours, your eyes flutter open. Your head is pounding and it’s hard to keep from falling back asleep, but you force yourself to stay awake.
“Tim?” You call out, your voice even raspier than before.
“Hey, hey, I’m here,” he murmurs, getting up from his desk and kneeling at your side. “How are you feeling?”
“Bad,” you admit, tears threatening to spill. “Really bad.”
He hands you two pills and a glass of water. “Here, take these, okay?”
You struggle to swallow the pills and water but somehow manage. The pain in your body is enough to bring you to tears and you can only hope that the medicine will kick in soon.
Tim rubs your forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burning up…”
“I—will you lay with me? I miss you…”
Tim can only oblige. You just look so cute and so vulnerable with your glassy eyes and clammy skin. He wouldn’t dare say no to you right now.
He kicks off his jeans and t-shirt, trading them for a pair of sweatpants before settling in next to you. He can feel your body heat even though he’s not touching you, and even though he wants to hold you, he’s not sure if he should.
“Are you hot or cold?” He asks.
“Cold.”
That’s all the answer he needs before he tugs you into his chest, holding your body gently to his. He places a small kiss on your forehead and makes a silent vow not to leave your side until you feel better.
-
Wally
“Are you sure you should be going on this mission?” Wally looks at you seriously.
“Yes. Why are you even asking?”
He presses a hand to your skin, recoiling when he feels how hot you are. “Jesus, you’re hot.”
“Well, hello to you too.” You roll your eyes.
“Y/n, you don’t look too good. I don’t think you should be coming along,” he looks at you with genuine concern. “You’re running real hot and that’s coming from me.”
“Wally, if I don’t come along, the whole mission is screwed.”
“I know, I know. You’re so stubborn,” he sighs. “Come along but the minute you start to feel worse, you tell me, alright?”
“Alright.”
He flashes you his signature grin, planting a kiss to your nose. He squeezes your shoulders once, before giving you a half assed salute and taking off at the speed of light.
You smile after him, but your smile fades once he’s out of sight. Your head is spinning and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. With the way your muscles are aching, you’re not sure if you’ll even be able to finish the mission.
Still, you have to try.
————
Going on this mission was a mistake.
It feels like every floor of the sinister science institute is filled with more and more baddies, tougher ones too. You were beat after the first floor, but now that you’re on the fifth, with three more to go, you’re not even sure if you’ll make it.
You can hear Wally up ahead, zooming back and forth and taking out any baddies in his way. You know he’s partly doing this for you—trying to clear the floor and make things easier on you. He’d asked you one more time before you entered the facility if you were feeling up to it, and after you insisted you were, he didn’t bother to argue.
You almost wish he did, though. Your head is spinning, everything hurts and everything is so hot and sweaty. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but even you know your movements are slow and sluggish and you’re a danger to all of your teammates.
Nightwing is somewhere behind you, insisting there’s an air duct he can sneak through to get to the main lab before they evacuate. A part of you wishes you’d gone with him. At least then you wouldn’t be stuck leaning against a wall, desperately trying to get your bearings.
You force yourself onto your feet, stumbling down the hall after Wally. You only make it a few steps before your muscles turn to jello and the black spots crowd your version.
You go limp, your mind retreating far, far away.
Wally turns around just in time to see you go limp, and he’s speeding down the hallway and catching you within a fraction of a second. He doesn’t give you the chance to hit the ground, his arms already under your knees and shoulders, ready to carry you to safety.
Your skin is hot to the touch, hotter than it was earlier. He shakes his head at you. He knew this was gonna happen. He knew you would push yourself too hard and end up getting yourself hurt.
He gets you out of the building and into the jet you and some of the other Titans had taken to get there. He hates the thought of leaving you there, but he knows you would never forgive him if he abandoned the team now.
Still, he only gets more and more anxious the longer the mission takes. The second Dick secures the samples he was looking for, Wally is taking off. He’s got you in his arms, speeding back towards your shared apartment.
He’s got you home in a matter of seconds, changing you into a pair of his boxers and one of his old t-shirts. He tucks your boiling body into bed, covering you with blankets up to your waist.
He doesn’t really know how to take care of someone when they're sick. Whenever he was sick as a kid, he would always just eat ice cream and play video games. That, or he would sneak out and go hang out with Dick or Connor.
But he knows you need more than ice cream and video games right now.
He decides on grabbing you water and digging through your cabinets to find any medicine that could possibly help. He tries to remember what his mom did for him when he was young, and all he can think of is a cold cloth on his forehead. Still, that’s better than leaving you there to boil to death.
He lays the cloth gently on your forehead, leaving your water and medicine on the nightstand for when you wake up.
He changes out of his suit, opting for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Of course, you’re wearing his favorite t-shirt, but this one will have to do. He settles into the bed next to you, turning on the tv. He tries to keep the volume and the brightness low.
After what seems like forever, you start to stir. Everything is too bright and hot when you open your eyes, and it has you squirming and crying. Wally is grabbing your hand as soon as you wake up, using his other hand to press the cold cloth into your forehead.
“Shhh, babe, it’s okay.”
You clench your eyes shut and shake your head. “E-everything hurts so bad!”
He reaches across you for the water and the medicine, holding the glass up to your lips so you can take a sip before popping the pills into your mouth. You gladly swallow them, relaxing slightly at the taste of water. Wally sets the glass on the nightstand, resting his hands on your thighs.
“I’m sorry for pushing myself so hard…I’m sorry that you had to clean up after me.”
“Aw baby,” he grins at you, but it’s not as wide and carefree as it usually is. “You know how much I love rescuing damsels in distress.”
Classic Wally, trying to make you laugh even when you feel like you’re on your deathbed. He rubs your thighs gently up and down, trying to soothe you.
“Did the mission at least go okay?”
He kisses you gently, “don’t you worry your pretty little head about the mission, okay?”
He goes to pull away but you weakly wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him to you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly.
“It’s okay baby,” he whispers. “Everything is gonna be okay. I love you so much.”
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