Work Text:
Tim had been feeling Not Well all morning. Not Well to the point where throwing up is very likely. But he’s not entirely sure why . His current theory is the milk that he had in his cereal for breakfast, milk that he wasn’t sure when it expired (unfortunately for him, that theory is wrong, for once).
Not to forget that he’s currently at school. You see, the problem with that is that his maths teacher had sent him to the sickbay. Not to mention that she had been ignoring him more and more lately. Which wouldn’t be concerning but Janet and Jack are back in Gotham for the next few months.
Tim hauls himself to his feet to head to the bathroom, his bladder had been prodding him for the last few minutes. While he is there, his theory is very disappointingly disproved even though this situation gets fixed without much fanfare. Then he’s running back to the toilet, nausea burning his throat. Even though nothing actually comes up.
When Tim returns to his previous spot on the worn, peeling black sofa in the sickbay’s lobby, his eternal bad luck meant that he got the attention of the nurse.
The attention meant there was no way that the man noticed that he is seconds away from throwing up and that meant Tim is made to call one of his parents to come to pick him up.
TIM DRAKE (outgoing to JANET DRAKE): [missed call]
TIM DRAKE (outgoing to JANET DRAKE): Sorry for bothering you. The school wants someone to come pick me up
JANET DRAKE (outgoing to TIM DRAKE): Timothy, you know that your father and I are busy.
TIM DRAKE (outgoing to JANET DRAKE): I know, I’m sorry.
TIM DRAKE (outgoing to JANET DRAKE): If it’s too much trouble, I’ll walk home.
TEXT READ: 11:15 AM.
Tim’s call to his mother goes to voice-mail because of course it does, she is at work. She’s doing stuff that is far more important than her son who’s feeling a bit under the weather.
Right, Tim has made up his mind (not there was much choice). He will walk home. All of the two-and-a-half miles. Today is a fantastic day to have forgotten his bus pass.
But before he can do that, he needs to convince the nurse that his mother is waiting for him down at the car park so that he can sign Tim out of school.
“I’ve texted my mum, she’s on her way,” The lie comes easily. After all, he’s had years of practice.
“Alright then. I’ll sign you out,” The nurse tells him, stepping around the desk to the computer. He takes the lie so easily.
Tim’s first major roadblock in his journey to get home is out of the way. All that’s left is for him to actually get home.
He blinks…and suddenly finds that his body must have moved on autopilot as he’s now about a block away from Gotham Academy and his watch reads 11:52 AM instead of 11:45 AM.
To his horror, as he waits for the light to change, he feels tears well up in the corner of his eyes. He just wants to be at home and for the nausea to stop. Then, the second shock-horror of the day: someone is calling his name. That someone just happens to be Dick, of all people.
The young adult’s car is stopped at the light that is now green. Oops, he was supposed to cross. The man himself has stuck an arm out the window to wave at Tim. Now that Dick has seen him, the fourteen-year-old has no choice but to get in the car.
“What are you doing out of school at midday?” The question is supposed to be concerned but Tim is too focused on not throwing up inside Dick’s car and ruining the nice interior.
“Didn’ feel well,” he hears himself mutter. The third Robin has his gaze fixed on the door handle so he doesn’t see the concern and confusion that pass over Dick’s face.
“Did the school call B? To get him to pick you up?” Dick asks.
“No? Why would G.A. call Bruce?” Tim’s confusion is heartbreaking.
“Because he’s one of your emergency contacts?” he says. “He is, isn’t he?”
Tim’s struck with an immense feeling that he screwed up, so much so that the tears make a return.
“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry,” he apologises.
“Tim, it’s alright. He probably forgot to tell you, wouldn’t be the first time B’s done something like that,” Dick tells him. Tim can’t fathom why it sounds like a lie.
The next few minutes pass in blissful silence. Until he realises that Dick is pulling the car into a free parking spot outside a supermarket and confusion sets in. The acrobat gets out of the now-parked car and Tim hurries to follow him into the supermarket.
“Why did we stop here?” he asks. His eyes catch sight of the text chain but not the actual words in it that Dick has pulled up on his phone before he puts it away.
“To get popsicles?” It sounds like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.
It’s not the weirdest thing Tim’s ever bought from a supermarket so he just follows. But Dick had stopped here to get popsicles because Tim isn’t feeling well. He is responsible for delaying Dick’s trip to the manor. That makes the nausea surge once again but nowhere as bad as it had been.
With the frozen treats secured, the pair are back on their way. It’s only when the car has passed Drake Manor that Tim realises that he forgot to tell Dick to stop.
“I’m not going back to the manor,”
“Why?”
“Don’t need to, you can stop here; I’ll get out and go home,”
Dick stops the car but before he can open the door and get out the older one starts speaking.
“You don’t have to go home,” he says. “If I had to guess: both of your parents are at work?” Tim nods.
“And B, Alfred and I don’t mind having you over for the rest of the afternoon, and even dinner if you feel like it,” Dick tells him.
He…hadn’t been expecting that. He had been expecting Dick to pass him the box of popsicles and send him on his way (that would never happen). He probably looks like a gaping fish right now.
“If it’s not too much trouble?” Tim asks.
“Of course, it won’t be any trouble, even if you’re not feeling 100%; you’re family Tim,” Dick tells him, all the sincerity behind his words as he's ever heard.
That makes Tim’s brain blue-screen. What? Does Dick really think that? But he hasn’t done anything of value.
There is rustling and he blinks back in to see Dick grabbing the box of popsicles from the bag in the back seat. “I’m going to have one of these before they all melt,” he explains, tearing open the cardboard. “Want one?”
If the box is already open, he might as well. Tim gets a lemon-lime one while Dick ends up with an orange one. It’s both entertaining and outright terrifying how his brother manages to drive the rest of the way to the manor with only one hand on the wheel.
When they arrive at the manor, Alfred meets them at the door. The butler takes Tim’s school blazer off of him, along with his school bag before sending him upstairs to shower and only after that to bed.
The fourteen-year-old heads upstairs, not wanting to anger Alfred by not doing as he said. He’s grateful for the shower and for the pain meds (still in their unopened box) amongst the other supplies that are waiting on the bathroom counter.
When he gets to his a guest room, there is a hot heat pack waiting on his bed. If the shower and meds were great, the heat pack is downright glorious. Tim falls asleep barely half an hour after he curls up around it, covers pulled up around his neck. This is the sight that Bruce sees when he cracks open the door about an hour later to check on Tim.