Chapter Text
Damian peered into the study at the figure hunched over the desk, flipping through a pile of paper that was at least two inches thick and glancing at the computer screen from time to time.
Drake.
Damian scowled.
Lately, there had been something...off about his predecessor.
Last night, Drake had stumbled slightly when she’d landed on a rooftop while traveling by grapple lines. She had also been inept enough to get mildly stabbed while stopping a mugging.
Damian glanced at the clock; an hour past midnight. It was prime time for patrol and Damian was supposed to be in bed since it was a school night, so if Drake had shown up at the manor now, it means that she hadn’t wanted to run into anyone.
The figure paused and turned to look back at Damian at the sound of his footsteps entering the room.
Damian wrinkled his nose in distaste when he noticed Drake’s mismatched Nightwing and Spoiler socks and unbrushed hair. To leave the house in such a slovenly state was disgraceful. And judging by the empty mug of coffee next to her, she’d been for awhile.
“What are you doing here Drake?” Damian asked, seating himself at one of the sofas and opening his book.
Tomorrow was the last day of school before winter break, and his English teacher had decided that it was the perfect day to have a test. He had woken up almost an hour ago and was having trouble falling back asleep so he had decided to spend a few minutes reviewing before going back to bed. He had planned on reading in the family room, but the study would do.
“Just reading a few reports,” Timi murmured, voice quiet and slightly hoarse.
“You came to the manor to read reports?” he queries.
“I had to check something from one of the reports Lucius sent Bruce,” she says. “What are you doing up so late?”
“I’m reviewing for a test.”
Timi hummed in acknowledgment before going back to the report.
Damian flipped through a few pages, before inconspicuously peering over the top of his book at Timi.
The manor was temperature controlled and she was wearing a hoodie. But...she was still shivering slightly.
His brows furrowed as he looked over at Drake again. Her cheeks and nose were red and her eyes were slightly watery. He closed his book and silently stepped over to Drake and–without warning–placed his cool hand on her forehead.
The reaction was instantaneous. Timi hissed and jerked back. So cold! She glared fiercely at Damian’s icy hand that was still hovering in the air and swatted it. “What was that for?!”
“Drake, your temperature is abnormally high,” Damian stated.
“It’s just a mild fever,” Timi said dismissively. She rubbed her forehead with her warm fingers to chase away the lingering cold.
Damian scowls. Drake's forehead was burning. There was no way it was mild. He pondered what to do. He knew that Drake was rather prone to illness due to her no longer having a spleen, but had never been around her while she was sick.
She would usually be holed up in her room or at her Nest. The other Bats would go visit her and tend to her, but Damian had always hesitated to go see her while ill.
Though he and Drake were on better terms now, he had concluded that it would be best to avoid her while she was affected by illness.
“Tt. Of course your immune system would be so incompetent as to get sick when winter has barely begum,” he says. Pennyworth would be the ideal choice in such a situation, but unfortunately he’s in Hong Kong with Cain and won’t be returning until Monday. And Drake won’t listen to Grayson, so Father is the best choice.
Timi pouts, blissfully oblivious to Damian’s scheming. “Leave my immune system alone. It’s trying its best.”
“Did you treat your fever?” Damian asks, making sure to keep his tone perfectly apathetic, lest Drake falsely assume that he cared about her wellbeing.
“Mmm, I took Tylenol a few hours ago,” Timi answers. “And I even drank a cup of ginger tea to help with my sore throat and congestion.”
“Your sore throat and congestion?” His brows furrow as he considers the new information. “You’ve also caught a cold.”
“Yes, unfortunately,” Timi sighs. “Tam banned me from the office until I’ve recovered and said she’d make me an ingredient in her grandpa’s meatloaf and serve me on a lavender tinted glass platter to Lex Luthor if I showed up. So I’ve been secretly reading WE reports from home so Tam doesn’t find out.”
Damian’s scowl deepens. “You are working while ill? Pennyworth insisted that sleep and rest are absolutely essential while ill and one should not work until they have recovered.”
“I am resting,” Timi says. “I’ve been at home since the day before yesterday and haven’t changed out of my pajamas since I got banned from WE. It’s practically a staycation.”
“You are doing work. It’s not a vacation.”
“I’m not working. I’m reading and reading is a hobby.”
“Reading reports for Father’s company doesn’t count.”
“Yes it does.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“Yes it does.”
“No it doesn’t!”
“Yes it–”
“Drake!” Damian interrupts, tone exasperated. “I refuse to play this foolish game with you! Reading reports for Wayne Enterprises counts as working!”
Timi rolls her eyes. “Fine . But it barely counts as working!” She pauses to yawn. “And I’m almost done too. If you would let me work, I can finish reading the last two pages.”
Damian clicks his tongue in irritation, but takes a seat and opens his book again. Since Drake was almost done, she would leave soon. And I can call Father after she leaves to inform him that Drake is compromised.
A few minutes later, Timi has finished reading the report and flexes her fingers as she stands. “Time for a late patrol,” she announces.
Damian, who was in the middle of turning a page, freezes. “Patrol?”
“Mmm,” Timi nods. “It’s already pretty late–or early I guess since it’s technically morning–so it will have to be a short patrol.”
“You’re patrolling while ill?” Damian asks, incredulous.
“I’m barely sick,” Timi says. “And I’ve patrolled with worse. This is nothing.”
Damian’s eye twitches.
Timi waves a quick goodbye and grabs her report and empty mug before stepping out of the study, not leaving a trace behind.
The second Damian can no longer hear Drake’s footsteps, he pulls out his communicator and slams his hand on the call button.
-
Batman was in the middle of lecturing the Justice League on everything they did wrong during the last mission when he heard it.
Beep beep beep.
His already present scowl deepens and the League cowers. Which idiot had forgotten to turn off their communicator during Batman’s lecture?!
Flash’s faw almost drops when it was Batman who pulled his communicator out of a belt pocket. It was Batman’s comm going off during a meeting?!
Bruce feels a flicker of panic flare up in his chest before he realizes it wasn’t a distress signal. But then he remembers that Damian was home alone since Dick would still be patrolling at this time and Damian would only call Bruce when he was with the Justice League if it was an emergency and the panic was back in full force.
“We’ll reconvene in ten minutes,” he snaps, and storms out of the meeting room. He steps into the nearest room and slams the door shut before accepting the call.
The weight in Bruce’s chest slightly eases when he sees that Damian was uninjured. And though he was scowling, he wasn’t tense, which meant that none of the other Bats were in trouble or critically wounded either.
“Damian,” Bruce says, his tone steady. “What happened?”
“Father, you must come home at once,” Damian states, nose scrunched in a mix of irritation and worry. “Drake is ill. She has both a high fever and a cold, but had ignored Pennyworth’s orders of not working when ill and even patrolled last night.”
Bruce frowns. Timi had always gotten rather severe fevers and colds, but since she had lost her spleen her symptoms had become even more extreme. He tried no to think about a sick and disoriented Timi tripping or falling while grappling.
“Not only that,” Damian continued. “During patrol last night she got mildly stabbed.”
Bruce feels his blood run cold. “What?! Stabbed?!”
Damian nods. “Mmm. A mugger stabbed her. Drake said it was only a shallow wound and disinfected it but she forgot to refill her safety kit with suture thread so she used dental floss to stitch it. Then we ran after the mugger and caught him.”
Bruce blinks speechlessly.
“And she plans on patrolling today too,” Damian adds, his scowl deepening. “Father, you must stop her. It would be dangerous to patrol with high fever.”
“I’ll be home in five,” Bruce responds.
After hanging up, he steps back into the meeting room. “Something has come up in Gotham. We’ll reconvene at a later day,” he says, slightly rushed, but voice unreadable as always. Without waiting for a reply, he dashes to the Zetas and a few minutes later, he’s back at the cave.
-
Timi had just arrived at home minutes ago and was about to change into her Red Robin gear when she heard the knock at the door. She frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone.
Timi silently made her way into the living room and stood on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole at the unexpected visitor.
I’ve been betrayed, she realized. She debated making a break for it though a window, but decided that her odds of success weren’t high enough to risk getting benched for an additional week.
She opened the door with a sigh and Bruce waited patiently in the living room for Timi to gather her essentials to bring to the manor where she would be staying until she made a full recovery.
Timi mourned her loss of freedom. She would undoubtedly be smothered by pillows and wouldn’t be allowed within ten feet of caffeine. She spent the drive back to the manor fuming and plotting revenge on Damian.
.
.
.
Fin.