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While Timothy Jackson Drake was no stranger to fevers, he was admittedly less familiar in treating them in other people.
Now if it was Tim that had the fever, he knew how to deal with it; A dozen blankets, close by water bottles, a way to watch dumb movies that only became funnier the higher his fever got and simply hunkering down in pure misery until it passes while making certain that there was no evidence that he was sick at all by the time his parents get back home.
If the people he rescued from captivity had a fever, well he was already letting the ambulances take them away wasn’t he?
Both situations were easy enough to deal with, even if the former fucking sucked. But while Tim didn’t mind just wasting away in a cocoon of blankets all alone until death decided to finally come for him, for some reason he could not fathom the idea of leaving Damian to do the same.
Until now, Damian’s immune system had seemingly been infallible but Tim didn’t need to push aside the blankets to know that he was feverish.
The boy was so small, huddled amongst the blankets that he had stolen. Damian hadn’t noticed Tim, a shock all and in of itself, and Tim couldn’t help but wonder if Damian was aware of anything but his own unending misery. The fact that Damian was demonstrating outwardly that he was feeling sick in the first place worried Tim more, he had always assumed that Damian was the type to bottle everything up and never let someone see him have a moment of weakness.
Then again, Damian surely hadn’t expected anyone let alone Tim to come into the usually untouched closet that still had Thomas and Martha Wayne’s clothing. With Bruce and Dick off world, Alfred going back to England for an old friends funeral and Jason spending the weekend with Roy, Damian probably figured that no one at all would see him like this.
Tim sighed, knowing that he couldn’t just walk away from the demon brat, especially seeing as that there were no water bottles near him, nor were there any snacks or forms of entertainment.
Crouching down, Tim poked the bundle of blankets.
Damian buried deeper, giving off a miserable sound. The boy was shuddering, his breaths coming out more like pants.
“Brat.” Tim tried again.
Tim tugged the fabric away from Damian’s face but the boy just shook harder, ducking his head back under the blankets.
“Hell Spawn. Babybird. Asshole.” Tim said. “You need to drink something.”
While Tim could probably go down to the kitchen himself and bring some bottles, he didn’t like the idea of leaving Damian for any length of time. He was a pain in the ass at the best of times, sure, but he was still just a kid and Tim knew that fevers in children could be dangerous.
“Brat, come on, I’m not carrying you.”
Damian whimpered.
Damian never whimpers. The kid could be stabbed through the fucking heart and he would never make a sound like that, and Tim never wanted him to ever make a sound like that again.
When Tim moved the blanket down from Damian’s face once more, he didn’t take no for an answer even though it had the very real risk of a knife to the arm. There was no knife, only another god awful whimper as Damian tried to squirm away from Tim.
“Damian,” Tim said. “We need to get you up.”
The boy shifted further away from Tim but he only managed to get tangled in his own blankets. Damian’s breath caught and he started to panic, both fighting to free himself from the mess of fabric but also trying to avoid the apparently cold air.
“Hey hey,” Tim said quickly. “It’s okay, you’re good, we’re good, just hold still one sec.”
If anything Damian just fidgeted harder, a sob breaking through.
Tim’s chest hurt to know that Damian was feeling so shit that he was completely unable to hide any of this. If Damian was being so open about his own misery, he was very much sick and despite everything Tim was very much worried.
Reaching out, Tim placed the back of his hand against Damian’s forehead.
Damian moaned loudly, new tears mixing with the old.
“Shit,” Tim hissed.
This was bad. This was really bad. That wasn’t just some low grade fever, Damian was burning up.
Tim finally managed to pull the blankets off from on top of his brother but Damian just sobbed harder, curling in a ball.
“I know, I know,” Tim said. “But I need to get you cooled down.”
“Cold…” Damian’s voice shook alongside the rest of him. “Cold!”
“I know it feels like that Dami but you’ve got a fever. Come on, everything’s going to be okay but you need to let me-”
When Tim tried to pull Damian up into his arms Damian didn’t lash out like Tim had honestly kind of expected. No weapons were drawn on him, no curses to his name or state of being. No, Damian instead latched onto Tim, burying his head into Tim’s chest.
On instinct Tim wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, feeling the boy shake ever more strongly.
“Cold…”
“I know,” Tim said.
He stood carefully, surprised to find Damian curling his legs around his sides as if he were just a little kid and not a trained assassin who on a normal day would not be caught dead cuddling up to Tim.
It was a testament too to how sick Damian was when Damian’s nails dug into Tim’s arm while they made no attempt to outright scratch him.
Tim moved quickly from Martha and Thomas’ bedroom, apologising when Damian begged for his blanket.
Knowing that he should contact someone, anyone, to come help him warred with the knowledge that if he doesn’t reduce Damian’s fever right fucking now the kid could very well boil alive in his own skin.
He wasn’t just warm, or hot. Heat radiated off of Damian in waves, and yet he still could not stop shaking even as Tim brought him into the closest bathroom with a full free standing bath.
Using one arm to keep Damian supported, once again apologising when Damian sobbed loudly, Tim turned on the water as quickly as he could, making sure that it was cool and not cold. He then made a beeline for the sink cabinet, struggling to both balance Damian and rifle through the cabinet for a thermometer.
While it would help to just put Damian down, Tim didn’t think that Damian was going to let him.
Finally he found the temperature wand, standing up and readjusting Damian’s weight. He tried to coax Damian into showing his forehead so that Tim could check just how high the fever was, but Damian was resolute in staying buried against Tim’s chest.
“Damian, it’s okay, it won’t hurt.”
“Don’t go, please don’t go!”
“Shh, I’m not going anywhere, promise, but I need to check something real quick okay?”
Damian whimpered loudly.
Tim tried again to reposition Damian, finally managing to glide the monitor against Damian’s forehead.
“Fuck.” Tim breathed.
103.4.
Was that too high? Like taking him straight to the hospital high? Tim couldn’t remember. Fuck he should know this, he was Damian’s life line right now and he couldn’t even remember at what point a twelve year old would need to get emergency help.
Surely it was anything over a hundred.
But Tim had gone out on Patrol with 102 countless times. Sure, his family had been fucking pissed with him and some of those times he probably very almost died from stupid mistakes he made thanks to that same fever, but it hadn’t yet killed Tim.
So 103.4 surely wasn’t that bad?
No, it seemed pretty bad. And besides, Damian was younger and not only that but his body was usually the epitome of health. For a fever to hit him this hard, something must seriously be wrong.
“Just hold on, I know, just hold on Dami, you’re going to feel real better soon I promise…”
Damian could only cry harder and Tim had to wonder if this had been some kind of chemical attack and not just an incredibly high fever. Damian was far from emotionless, but in the years since he had come into their lives Tim had never once seen him be this upset.
He usually got angry, or defensive, or sometimes a little down.
But Damian was outright sobbing in Tim’s arms, begging Tim not to leave him even though Tim could never leave his baby brother alone to suffer.
At last the water had filled enough and Tim checked one more time to see if it was not too cold just in case he sent Damian further into shock while trying to help him. Then, he tried to put the boy into the bath.
Damian latched ever harder onto Tim.
“Damian, it’ll help.”
Damian shook his head, burying further into Tim’s chest.
Tim was out of his depths here. Fuck, he was an only child just a few years ago and when he did get siblings he was the baby of the family. Tim didn’t know what he was meant to be doing to sooth the poor boy, not when he was like this.
Damian needed someone better than Tim. He needed Bruce, or Dick, or in a perfect situation Alfred. Hell, even Jason could probably do a better job than Tim was doing.
Tim took a steadying breath, reminding himself that while he hadn’t had much experience in soothing people with fevers, he did have ample experience in having them. He just needed to remember what it was that helped him most through the pain and discomfort.
Dick would card fingers through his hair.
Tim tried that, awkwardly holding Damian up with one arm while his other hand came up to Damian’s hair.
Damian melted into the touch instantly. His arms loosened and Tim was instantly sweeping down, placing Damian into the water. Instantly Damian was screaming, his whole body thrashing around in an attempt to get back out again.
“Hey hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,”
Damian just sobbed ever louder.
“I know,” Tim said. “But we have to get that number down somehow.”
Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Damian was thrashing harder and there was water everywhere and the poor boys eyes were wide and panicking and confused and so so scared.
His clothes were soaked through, muscles shaking hard from either fear or fever though which one Tim wasn’t even sure of anymore. No matter how hard Damian tried to get out, his panicked movements just made him slip back down again.
“Damian, please, just relax, everything’s going to be okay.”
Damian clawed at the side of the bath but he was simply unable to pull himself up.
Realising that Damian could very well hurt himself, Tim scrambled to get into the bath as well, trying not to flinch as the sensation of his clothes getting wet rocked through him. All at once Damian was latched onto Tim again, at last giving up on escaping the bath.
Tim readjusted them, rubbing circles in Damian’s back and making sure that the boy’s face was at no risk of dropping below the water line.
“I know, I know,” Tim mumbled.
Damian’s whole body was shaking but Tim held him steady. The circles weren’t enough to sooth Damian so Tim tried to run fingers through his hair again. Damian shuddered, breathing hard, but when Tim’s fingers made a second pass, third, fourth, the tension in the boy slowly ease out.
“That’s it,” Tim said gently.
He kept combing through Damian’s hair, hoping the cool water was going to be enough to reduce Damian’s fever if only until it was safe enough for Tim to be able to contact someone for back up.
Contact someone.
Shit.
His phone had been in his pocket.
The pocket that was now empty, the phone drifting on the bottom of the tub as Damian tried to get a little more comfortable.
Tim didn’t even bother retrieving it, just simply resting his chin on top of Damian’s head. Damian melted into the touch, giving off a deep sigh. He was still trembling, but he was calming quicker than Tim had ever thought possible even without the fingers in his hair.
“That was dumb,” Tim muttered.
Damian did not answer.
To Tim’s surprise, when he looked down to check on Damian his eyes had slipped closed, his breathing evening out.
The damn brat was asleep.
The impossibility was as amusing as it was concerning because Tim suddenly had the horrible thought that Damian might have not fallen asleep, but fallen unconscious.
“Damian.” Tim said.
Readjusting the kid, wanting to see some kind of response at all, Damian simply resettled against Tim’s chest.
“Damian.” He tried again, almost desperate. “Damian, I need you to open your eyes. Fuck, say something at least, anything, I need to know if you’re-“
“Quiet…”
Damian’s voice was nearly lost against the sloshing water as Tim shifted again.
“What was that?” Tim asked, relief rushing through him.
“You’re being too loud…” Damian mumbled.
“Sorry,” Tim said.
In truth, Tim couldn’t help but smile, giddy that the damn brat wasn’t fucking unconscious in his arms.
That settled it though, Tim was well and truely out of his depths in this. Damian needed help, and he needed help now. Just because he was currently awake, at least to a point, that could change at any time especially if his fever keeps rising.
“Okay,” Tim said. “Here’s what we’re going to do,”
“Quiet…” Damian repeated. “Want to stay here…”
“Da-“
“Stay.” Damian said more firmly.
It was Damian that readjusted then, burying ever closer to Tim’s chest. He was trembling, from exhaustion or fever Tim didn’t know. Then, he realised that Damian was trying to hide his hitched breaths.
Tim ran his fingers through Damian’s hair once more, then gently tilted Damian’s neck back.
The boy trembled harder, stubbornly shoving his head back down.
“Damian,” Tim said.
“Shut up.” Damian croaked. “I just… It feels nice, okay?”
Tim hummed. Deciding that they could waste a few more minutes where they were if it meant that Damian was able to stay calm for a little while longer, Tim focused once more on running fingers through Damian’s hair.
“You’re okay Babybird…” Tim said. “Everything’s going to be okay…”
Damian gave off another few sniffles before he gave into the tears completely. Tim only held him ever tighter, letting his baby brother cry in his arms.
When Damian finally settled again, Tim slowly and carefully lifted the boy out from the tub. While the water had no doubt helped, Tim didn’t dare risk leaving Damian alone in the water. Damian wrapped two tight arms around Tim’s neck, not once complaining about Tim carrying him even as they trailed water from the bathroom into the hallway.
On the way, Tim had grabbed one of the towels, awkwardly covering Damian as best he could without ever putting him down.
Distantly, Tim was grateful for all his years of training, realising that he was barely struggling to carry the boy who was nearly the same weight that he was. More acutely was Tim’s wonderings about how he was going to make it up to Alfred for making an absolute mess of water through the hallway as he made a bee line for Bruce’s office.
There was a landline there, and if not at least there were computers that Tim would easily be able to use to contact someone.
But who?
Bruce and Dick were still off world and while Tim had no doubt that the both of them would want to come back if they knew that Damian was so sick, he also knew that they needed to prioritise the mission. Alfred was in another country, Jason was closer but knowing Jason he wouldn’t pick up if Tim called him anyway.
The girls weren’t available either.
Tim sank down onto Bruce’s chair, fighting back his own sick feeling as he realised that he was going to damage the leather with how wet the both of them were. Shoving back his Mothers lectures, Tim steeled himself and reached for the phone.
Damian shuddered.
“Hey hey,” Tim soothed.
The boy moaned loudly and Tim wanted to curse himself, realising that not only had he drowned his own cell in the tub but he had also left the thermometer in the bathroom. For someone who was usually lauded as being brilliant, Tim’s panic had made him do some really fucking stupid things.
If he had been Red Robin, Tim wouldn’t have panicked. The uniform was like a shield, keeping him protected from the threats of the world, but it was like a sword too with its ability to give him the courage and ability to deal with stress in a way that he had never been able to do as Tim Drake.
Tim rocked Damian a little, half expecting the brat to curse him out for treating him like a baby but instead Damian just buried further into him.
Hand shaking, Tim input the only number he could right now.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance at the Wayne Residence in Gotham,” Tim said in way of greeting. “My brother has a fever and I can’t get it down.”
“How old is your brother?”
“Twelve.” Tim said. “And the last time I checked, his fever was 103.4…”
“Okay,” The woman said. “Is he conscious?”
Her calmness soothed Tim too but then he felt ridiculous for having been stressed in the first place. Damian was depending on him right now and yet Tim could feel himself begin to shake too, his chest feeling tight.
Tim shoved down the panicked feeling, focusing on the woman’s questions.
While she assured him that an ambulance was on its way and that he had done well so far, Tim couldn’t find it in him to believe her. Damian and Tim had been alone in the manor for the last three days, and Tim hadn’t seen the brat in the last two.
Two whole days that Tim hadn’t seen Damian. Two whole days that Damian could have very well died from this damn fever. Tim should have known. He should have checked on Damian, or at least made any effort at all to make sure that Damian was even in the Manor at all.
Brushing some hair from Damian’s face, the boys eyes flickered open.
“Hey,” Tim said gently.
Damian moaned, nestling in closer.
“I know Babybird.” Tim said. “But help is coming.”
“Don’t go.” Damian said faintly.
“They’re going to be here in ten minutes, everything’s going to be alright.”
“Don’t go.” Damian said a little stronger.
His nails dug into Tim’s arm.
“Don’t go.” He said firmly.
Damian started panicking, unable to settle once more in Tim’s arms while never once letting go of Tim.
“Shh, it’s okay Dami, just relax, everything’s going to be-“
Tim grunted, an elbow lodging into his ribs.
He wondered if he should take Damian back to the bath, the cool water having helped sooth the boy earlier. But the thought of leaving the phone with updates from the 911 operator scared Tim, especially since it was a massive Manor that was difficult to navigate for strangers.
In preparation, Tim deactivated some of the defence protocols but made sure to keep all the ones that were related to the Batcave.
Tim readjusted the towel he’d taken from the bathroom, wrapping it around Damian but the kid wasn’t having it. He was moving around too much, threatening to fall from the chair while incapable of letting go of Tim.
“Dami, Dami, you’re okay,”
There was so much heat radiating off of Damian, not even the water left on his skin and clothes able to cool him.
If they were down in the cave, Tim might have tried to use an IV to try to cool and rehydrate Damian from the inside but he couldn’t afford to have the paramedics be called off, nor could he risk them finding the cave.
They had to stay up in the main house.
But Damian was struggling hard now and Tim gave quick instructions over the phone as to where he was going to be. Lifting Damian was a little harder now that he was moving so much but Tim managed it somehow.
Wrestling Damian into the bath again was even harder, though this time Tim knew to go in alongside his brother. Cool water splashed all around them and onto the floor as Damian thrashed but as soon as Tim was fully situated, Damian was latched tightly onto him.
His whole body was shuddering, from fear or fever Tim didn’t know, but he did his best to calm him all the same.
Carding fingers through Damian’s hair, softly talking to him and assuring him that Tim wasn’t going anywhere, Tim tried everything. Eventually, the cool water seemed to start working again or at least Damian started losing his strength.
Distantly, Tim heard a door open.
Despite everything, Tim stiffened. Old memories of his parents coming home to an imperfect house hit him like a freight train and while he tried to breathe through it, Tim found himself dipping a little lower into the water.
Damian shuddered, then slowly raised his head.
The poor kids eyes were hazy with fever and yet Tim saw some of that usual spark within them still.
“Drake?” Damian voice was weak.
Tim swallowed the lump in his throat, flinching as he heard voices call out.
It was a woman’s voice. Not his Mothers, of course not his Mothers, and yet Tim still trembled.
“Drake. What is happening?”
“You’re sick, Dami,” Tim somehow managed.
“No.” Damian shot back.
Tim gave off an uneven laugh, the little spiteful brat pretending to not be sick even with such a dangerous fever.
“You’re scared.” Damian said. “You don’t get scared.”
For some reason the idea that Damian, who was usually the first to curse Tim out, thought him incapable of fear made Tim feel stronger. Damian needed him right now, he couldn’t let himself fall into a panic attack or dissociation just because one of the paramedics that were here to save Damian’s life was a woman.
“I’m not scared.” Tim said.
Damian seemed unconvinced. The brother did something that Tim thought would never happen, wrapping his arms around Tim as tightly as he could.
“It’s going to be okay.” Damian said, even though he was the one that was sick.
“Yeah Dami,” Tim managed. “It’s going to be okay.”
Tim tilted forward, pecking the top of Damian’s head.
The footsteps were coming closer now, but instead of Tim’s heart racing it settled.
“We’re in here!” Tim called loudly.
Two strangers came into the bathroom, the room never having felt so small. There was a gurney that they had left by the door, bringing with them instead a small bag.
“Hi there,” The man said.
He was tall, but his smile was soft.
“My name is Lawerence, and this is Bree.”
The woman was considerably younger than Tim’s Mother and he felt foolish for having ever compared the two.
“You’ve done amazing to help your brother,” Lawerence said. “Do you think we can help him out too?”
Tim didn’t understand why they were speaking to him like a child only to realise that he had curled his arms around Damian protectively, shielding him from the strangers.
Feeling foolish, Tim nodded.
“His name is Damian Wayne.” Tim said, forcing his voice to stay steady. “He’s twelve years old, had a fever of 103.4 but that was nearly an hour ago, no known allergies. Lost consciousness a few times, but never longer than a few moments. I don’t know when he first got sick.”
The next was a blur.
Damian of course did not go easily, because he was Damian Wayne, but by some miracle even in his fear and confusion he didn’t once reach for a blade. Somehow, that fact felt important to Tim because it meant that Damian trusted Tim alone to keep him safe.
The only way that Damian allowed himself to be brought onto the gurney was if Tim was actually on the bed alongside him, holding him gently.
Tim apologised on Damian’s behalf but the paramedics assured him that whatever kept Damian calmest was the best course of action. When they checked Damian’s temperature again, it had indeed risen but thanks to the cool baths it had only gone up by point two degrees.
With Tim soothing Damian best he could, the paramedics started a line to keep Damian’s fluids up as well as started other treatments to get his temperature down.
He barely remembered getting to the ambulance, focusing solely on Damian. Hell, he barely even remembered the ambulance ride at all until all at once they were coming into the emergency room of Gotham General.
Damian had flinched hard from the bright lights and loud noises but Tim held him close, pressing another kiss to the top of his head.
Tim very pointedly ignored the look one of the emergency doctors gave him as soon as they realised that Damian was the unwell one, with the immunocomprised Tim tending to him. He ignored the questions about his own health too, knowing full well that Damian was all that mattered right now.
In truth, Tim had known the moment that he had touched Damian that he would most likely develop whatever it was that was affecting Damian so much. But even if Tim got sick from this, it hardly mattered compared to the knowledge that Damian was going to be okay.
He was safe now, the doctors were going to know exactly how to reduce Damian’s fever.
Tim had done everything in his power to keep his brother safe, he didn’t care if it risked his own health to do so.
When Damian finally got moved to his own room for the night for observation and treatment, Alfred was already well on his way from England and the girls too were coming with both Bruce and Dick finishing up on their outer space mission.
Jason was actually the one to get to the hospital first, and while he definitely tore into Tim for risking his fragile health, Jason had also ruffled Tim’s hair and told him that he had done amazing as a big brother.
Coming from Tim’s own big brother, Tim couldn’t help but beam at the praise.