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Bruce was patrolling uptown with Damian when his communicator crackled to life with Oracle’s calm voice “ Batman?”
“Go.” He responded.
“Red Robin needs some assistance. He went to check in on that warehouse on 19th and Flanders and got ambushed by some of Penguin’s goons. He’s pinned down by gunfire.”
“Understood.” Bruce said. “Me and Robin are on our way. Let Red Robin know that we will be there in three minutes.”
“Copy that.”
“Robin.” Bruce barked. “Let’s go.”
“Red Robin needs our help.” Damian said dryly. “Shocker.”
“Stop it.” Bruce said, shooting his grappling hook to the next building and swinging. “There’s no shame in asking for help, Robin. You know this.”
“I just think it’s strange that someone who so frequently boasts a superior intellect, Red Robin let himself get trapped so easily.”
“Quiet, Robin.” Bruce ordered. “Now is not the time.”
They swung across the city and Bruce couldn’t help the twinge of anxiety in his chest. Damian was right- Tim was clever and it was rare that someone got the drop on him, much less some random Penguin goons. It didn’t bode well with Bruce that his second youngest called for help.
When they arrived, it was obvious how Tim had gotten stuck. The sheer amount of people in the warehouse would’ve been enough for even Bruce to call in backup and Tim was moving slower than normal as the attackers rushed him. He was fighting them off but was only barely holding his own ground.
“Robin, you take the west side of the warehouse. I’m helping Red.” Bruce said.
Damian nodded. “Yes, Father.”
Bruce used the warehouse’s rafters to his advantage and climbed till he was directly above Red Robin and his attackers. He dropped a smoke bomb and waited for the air to fill before dropping down himself.
Once he was on the floor, it was a fairly easy battle. The goons had no real training, relying instead on pure numbers but once Bruce threw himself into the fray, it was easy. Too easy. It was something that normally Tim could’ve handled himself, easily.
When the GCPD finally arrived and they were able to retreat, Bruce looked at his second youngest son. “Red, Status report.”
Tim shook his head and then winced. “One of them got a lucky shot in on me early in the fight. Gave me a lead pipe to the temple. Sorry.”
Damian snorted but Bruce glared at him before he could say anything. “It’s fine. Go back to the cave and get checked by Agent A.”
Tim frowned. “No, I-”
“That was an order, Red Robin. Go.”
Tim huffed but stood. “Fine. But for the record, I think I’m fine.”
“Understood and dismissed.”
Tim sighed again but he swung off to go get his bike without fighting Bruce about it.
Bruce ignored the anxiety still sitting in his chest as he watched his son leave.
When Bruce looked at Damian, the younger boy was frowning.
“Robin?”
“It’s nothing, Father.” Damian said evenly, picking at a stray thread on his cape.. “This is just the third concussion Red Robin has received this year. Makes me wonder if perhaps he is losing brain cells by the second.”
Bruce took a steadying breath and reminded himself that being a little shit (as Jason would put it) was how Damian showed he cared. “Red Robin will be fine.” He said firmly. “Agent A will check him and we will act accordingly.”
Damian nodded. “Of course.”
“Cmon, Robin.” Bruce said. “Let's finish patrol.”
Damian nodded again and off they went.
*
Tim was already out of the medbay by the time Bruce and Damian got back from patrol but Alfred was still cleaning once they parked the Batmobile.
“Go get cleaned up.” Bruce told Damian. Once Damian was in the changing room, Bruce turned to Alfred. “How’s Tim?”
“Master Timothy shall be quite fine once he gets some rest.” Alfred said. “He has a concussion but I cleared him to go to bed. I’ll be checking in on him in a few hours.”
Bruce nodded. “Good. See if Damian wants to help you. I think he might actually be…worried about Tim.”
Alfred raised his eyebrows but nodded. “Certainly, sir.”
“I’m going to go shower off and head to bed. It’s been a long night.”
“That it has sir.” Alfred agreed. “I’ll wake you if anything goes ary in the night.”
“Thanks, Alfred.” Bruce said and peeled off to go get cleaned up himself.
*
Bruce had always naturally been a light sleeper but becoming a vigilante and a father in his mid-twenties had made it even worse. He woke at the slightest of noise so it wasn’t surprising that he woke up a few hours after patrol when he heard his youngest son shout.
“Father!”
Bruce was running before he was fully awake, his body steering him towards Damian’s room but that wasn’t where the voice had come from. No, it came from Tim’s room. His stomach dropped.
Bruce, you Idiot.
He rushed into the room, socks sliding on the hardwood floor and took in the sight. Damian, standing next to the bed with a stricken face and Tim, seizing in his bed.
“Go get Alfred, have him call Leslie.” Bruce commanded. Damian pushed himself into motion and Bruce went to his second youngest. Luckily, Tim had managed to kick his sheets away from himself instead of getting tangled in them, so Bruce just maneuvered Tim onto his side and tried to let it run its course. It was all he could do.
He counted under his breath as the seconds went by, his watch still sitting on his bedside table and utterly useless to him, but god, even as his son seized in front of him, Bruce could still count.
The seizure lasted sixty-five seconds and by the time it was over, Alfred’s familiar figure was in the doorway.
“Sixty-five seconds.” Bruce informed him.
Alfred hummed. “Did he injure himself?”
“Not as far as I can tell.”
“Well then all we can do is wait for him to wake up so we can assess it with Dr Thompkins. The poor boy.”
Bruce gently pushed back Tim’s sweaty bangs. His eyelids fluttered. “Tim?” Bruce said. “Can you hear me?”
Tim groaned. “Bru’?”
“I’m right here, Tim.” Bruce said softly. “You had a seizure, son. Leslie is on her way to come check you out.”
“Fuck.” Tim groaned again. “Hate that.”
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Me too, kiddo. Do you think you can sit up for me?”
Tim shook his head and winced, the same way he had earlier in the night. “Head hurts.” He said through gritted teeth.
“I bet.” Bruce said. He carded his hand through Tim’s hair. “We’ll just stay here then and have Leslie come up to us, alright?”
“Can you-” Tim squeezed his eyes shut. “Can you close the door?”
“Of course, Master Timothy.” Alfred said before closing the door in question and blocking out the hallway light. “How much does your head word, on a scale of one to ten?”
Tim took a measured breath. “Seven? Head hurts and I’m nauseous.”
“That’s manageable.” Bruce said. “We’ll have to wait for Leslie to get here but after that we can give you some painkillers, alright?”
“Okay.” Tim said. “Can I sleep until she gets here?”
“Absolutely not.”
Tim grumbled and burrowed his face into Bruce’s side. Bruce wrapped an arm around his son. “Sorry chum. She should be here soon.”
“Worry not, Master Timothy.” Alfred said, glancing out the window. “I believe I see her car coming up the road.”
“Whoopee.” Tim said.
“I’ll go let her in.” Alfred said. “Do try and take care of yourself in the meantime, will you?”
“Anything for you, Alf.” Tim said and Bruce chuckled again.
Once Leslie was there, things went more smoothly. She checked all of Tim’s vitals and his head again. She collected a blood sample to take back to her lab but in the end, she said that it was most likely a one-off seizure from the head trauma.
“You’ll need to rest for at least the next three weeks.” She explained to a frowning Tim. “No masks and no training. No exceptions short of the entire city catching on fire, am I understood?”
Tim crossed his arms. “What if every member of my family gets kidnapped and I’m their only hope?”
“Call Superman.” Leslie said with a set of raised eyebrows.
Tim deflated under the doctor’s look. “Fine.”
“Good. You can go back to sleep, alright? After that, usual concussion protocol. And Tim?”
“Yeah, Doc?”
“Try and duck next time.”
That pulled a snort from Tim. “You got it.”
Bruce stood and held out a hand to the good doctor. “Thanks for everything, as always Leslie.”
She shook his hand and smiled warmly. “Always, Bruce. Keep me updated and I’ll be by to check in a week or so.”
“See you then.” He said and she smiled again before leaving, Alfred escorting her to the door. As she walked away down the hall, Bruce could distantly hear the voice of someone besides Alfred and Leslie. Bruce had a solid hunch who might be out in the hallway.
“Go.” Tim said.
“Hm?” Bruce said, pulled from his thoughts. He looked at Tim. “Go?”
“Yeah, go talk to him.” Tim said. He pulled his blanket up around him. “I’m just gonna try and go back to sleep.”
Bruce let himself brush away Tim’s sweaty hair again. He pretended not to notice the way the teen leaned into the touch. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, chum.” Bruce said. “Come get me if you need anything tonight, alright?”
“Will do.” Tim said before making a shooing motion with his hands. “Bye Bruce.”
Bruce shook his head with a small smile but went to the door. “Goodnight, Tim.”
Tim waved at him and Bruce finally took the cue and left, closing the door softly behind him. When Bruce looked up, he saw Damian, looking at him from the crack in his own bedroom door. Upon noticing his father seeing him, Damian shut the door.
Bruce frowned and knocked on his youngest son’s door. “Damian?”
“You may enter.”
Bruce pushed the door open and found the boy in his bed, his covers over his feet and Titus curled up at the foot of his bed. Damian glanced up from the book placed on his nap, a clever guise that wouldn’t have worked even if his father wasn’t the world's greatest detective.
“You’re up late.” Bruce commented, shutting Damian’s door behind him.
“Yes well, I don’t like to sleep with intruders in the Manor.” Damian said primly.
Bruce forced away the smile that tried to threaten him. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. It would be a security risk.”
“Well, then I’m happy to say that the ‘intruder’’' Bruce used air quotes around the word, “has left. Tim is going to be just fine.”
“Good.” Damian said, careful to make sure his emotions did not show on his face. “He doesn’t have many skills but it would be an annoyance to attempt to replace him in the patrol schedule.”
Bruce snorted. “Is that so?”
“Yes it is.” Damian said. “I would be forced to do more work and while I’m sure I could do it much better than Drake, I would be forced to drop out of school and you have explained to me that school is important to my training here.”
Bruce sat on the edge of Damian’s bed and reached out to scratch behind Titus’s ears. “Yes, it is. I would say that it is one of the most important jobs you can do here and I want you to be able to do it.”
“Then it is well that Drake will be okay.”
“I agree.” Bruce grabbed one of Damian’s feet and gave it a light squeeze. He smiled at the young boy. “Thank you for checking in on your brother. You did well.”
Damian nodded and turned his head to try and make it so Bruce couldn’t see the small smile on his lips.
“Go to bed, chum.” Bruce said, standing up. He took the book off of Damian’s lap and placed it on his bedside table. “Goodnight, Damian.”
Bruce wasn’t expecting a response but as he was leaving, he very quietly heard Damian say “Goodnight, Father.”
Bruce closed Damian’s door behind himself and if he smiled into the empty hallway, no one but him had to know.