Work Text:
Tim’s hand fumbled for the oxygen mask even before he fully recognised it was.
Somehow, he even managed to get it off, throwing it as far away as possible, without anyone stopping him. Breathing hard, he waited for Bruce or Dick or whoever to inevitably force it back on him but…
But no one did?
Eyes cracking open, the room around him was a blur.
Tim blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it wouldn’t. He tried to rise, feeling something on his arm shift. He gripped onto the IV line, yanking it hard. He didn’t care as blood poured down his arm, focusing instead on trying to stand. His legs shook hard but they supported him, at least for a moment.
The world shifted beneath him, Tim barely managing to catch himself on the rolling table that by some miracle had locked wheels.
He was alone in the room, unless the blur that he thought might be a chair had someone curled up on it. No. No, he was fully alone, or else they wouldn’t have let him get up at all even though he was clearly capable.
Tim was… Tim was never alone, not in hospitals, they… They promised. They promised he would never be alone if he needed to be admitted. They had promised.
Taking in a shuddering breath, hoping it would calm him, it only made his panic raise higher. If no one was here then there had to be a good reason for it. A very important mission that required each of them. That was fine, he was fine.
He had to be fine.
Tim stumbled towards the ensuite of the hospital room, crashing into the door frame on the way.
Blinking the sweat from his eyes, Tim stared at himself in the mirror. The blur that was his reflection gave little hint as to why he was here, though there was a butterfly bandage holding together a cut on his forehead.
Head injury?
No, he was fine. He searched for something sharp to remove the bracelet that was digging into his wrist but found nothing. He settled for gnawing at it instead, then realised he could just unhook it.
Tim’s world shifted again.
He… He was on the ground, back pressed up against the wall.
Blinking hard, Tim went to stand once more. His legs were like jelly, but he managed it all the same, only having to lean against the wall for a moment or two before he was able to take a step forward.
Tim’s lungs screamed for air but he ignored them, having much bigger priorities. If there was a mission that required all hands on deck, he needed to be one of those hands. They could each hold their own, certainly, but they all worked better as a team.
Team.
Tim needed to get back to his team.
Steeling himself, he went back into the room itself, confirming that there was absolutely no one around. There were no bag of clothes either, which meant whatever he had been admitted for this time had been either sudden or had been less than a day so far.
Unless…
Unless they just didn’t care enough to bring clothes?
Unless Tim had finally reached the limit of the limitless care from the Wayne’s and their adjacents?
Tim breathed hard, chest aching as his head spun.
If he wanted to get out of the hospital, and he very much wanted to get out of the hospital, he was going to need to find some clothes in order to blend in with the visitors and not with the patients. The hospital gown was setting his nerves on fire, the not quite fabric digging into his skin.
Getting to the bathroom had been easy enough with only nearly collapsing three times or so, but for some reason the idea of going passed the room itself was daunting.
Oh well, nothing he couldn’t handle.
Tim forced himself onwards even as his chest screamed and his body ached.
All at once he was slamming against the door to the room, bracing against it if only to keep his legs from buckling outright. This… This wasn’t his usual room. Tim cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have noticed that the moment he had woken, this room didn’t have the floor to ceiling windows that were consistent with the hospital rooms on the Wayne Ward.
No, this was just a normal room, with the extra bed for another patient having been taken away for some reason.
He was listing.
Shaking his head hard did little to clear his vision but at least it gave him a burst of energy because that had hurt. There was little of him that didn’t hurt, so he must have been in a building collapse or had been slammed against a wall by Bane or dropped off a rooftop or…
Or Tim should really just get on with it already.
He stood fully upright, blinking back blurs and wiping away the sweat from his brow. If he was going to get out of here, he needed to appear normal. He could appear normal. He could, no matter what Jason claimed.
Tim heard voices.
Unfamiliar.
No, vaguely familiar.
Nurses.
Tim cracked open the door, confirming that the nurses were distracted by their own conversation. Well, the blurs that were the nurses were distracted by their own conversation.
All he needed to do was sneak passed the other way, pick up some nondescript clothing, and he was home free. Well, he was whatever battle he needed to get involved with free. It had to be a battle, he told himself, it had to be. He had not been abandoned, not again.
More sweat was already beading at his forehead.
No matter. He was fine, he had to be fine. Oh, who was he kidding, he felt like fucking shit, he was probably dying, no he was definitely dying, but that didn’t change the fact that if someone needed him, then someone needed him, period.
The injuries must have been pretty significant to make his chest ache this much, his head too, and Tim had no doubt that once he got the nightmare of the hospital gown off he would see bandages upon bandages.
It was hot in here.
So hot.
That was why he was sweating, not because of a fever but because the building itself was oppressively hot. Yes. Yes, that was it. The cooling units had been compromised because the… The grid was not down, or at least the back up generators of the hospital were not down.
But there was more sweat dripping down his face and he felt wrong and the world was blurry because it was just that hot and… And he was braced against a wall again.
Tim needed to keep going.
Pushing off the wall, Tim staggered instead. All at once he was on his knees but just as quickly he was up again. He was dying. He was dying and he was dying quick but the least he could do was die on the battlefield, not in some damn hospital hallway.
“Are you quite done there?”
Tim whipped around, ready to face down whatever villain had stalked him all the way here. All that stood before him was a blur of a hunking mass but Tim was going to take them down all the same, there was no way in hell he was going to let any of the patients or workers be at risk, not while he still had air in his lungs.
Okay, so he had very minimal air in his lungs right now, but all the same.
“Whoa whoah, what’s up with that look, Timbit?”
Tim…Bit?
Tim blinked hard, then blinked again, wiping the damn sweat from his eyes. He readied himself for the villain to take advantage of his distraction but the blur only shifted strangely, as if they were purposefully holding themselves back.
“I’ll destroy you.” Tim vowed.
“Sure sure,” The villain said. “Damian-Ass-Bitch.”
“You killed Damian? I- I’ll destroy you, I’ll-”
“What? No, fuck, Tim, I didn’t kill Dames. He’s a pain, sure, but he’s fine. Worried sick about you actually, so why don’t we get you back to your room.”
The blur swept an arm out, back towards where Tim had come from.
“Tim.” The villain said firmly. “It’s me, Kid, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Me.
Me me me…
“Jason?” Tim breathed. “But, but no one was there. I… No one was there.”
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry Timbit. I stepped out for a moment to take a call, but I should have never left you there on your own. Are you okay?”
Tim shook his head but his hands shook harder.
“I’m dying.” He said. “I am sorry for the trouble.”
“Sorry for the… Fuck Kid, something is really wrong with you. No, no! Don’t cry, I just meant…”
The blur that was Jason came a little closer but the blurriness was ever worse as hot tears poured down Tim’s face. He scrubbed at them but they refused to stop, his whole body aching.
“God,” Jason said, because Tim was just that pathetic. “I’m sorry, okay? You know me and my big mouth. Here, come sit down on this couch, we don’t want you passing out or anything.”
It was less a couch and more of a blur that Tim assumed was a bench designed for waiting family members.
When Tim shook his head this time, the whole world swirled around him.
“Whoa, yeah, no, you’re sitting your ass down right now.”
“But the…” Tim’s lungs screamed for air. “The battle.”
“No battle, Kid.” Jason said. “Just a good ol’ cold.”
Tim blinked hard, then again, but it did little to clear the blurs let alone his confusion.
“Cold?” He croaked. “But it’s too hot.”
“That’d be the fever,” Jason said. “Which you only developed because you didn’t let yourself stop when you got sick.”
“It’s not… I’m not… A cold? I don’t… That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s just a cold.” Jason promised. “A pretty shitty one, sure, but they confirmed this morning you haven’t developed pneumonia yet.”
Tim’s eyes blew wide.
Yet.
Yet.
Yet.
He was still going to develop pneumonia, he was still going to die, it already felt like he was dying anyway but at any moment a battle could break out and then people were going to die because he had a cold and he wasn’t able to keep them safe and he just wanted to keep them safe.
There were new tears, burning just as hotly.
Jason’s sigh was deep, no doubt because he was sick of Tim’s bullshit.
All at once Tim was ever warmer but just when he thought that it was because of the fever getting impossibly hotter in such a short time, he realised that the warmth was Jason. Jason had somehow bridged the gap between them, taking Tim into his arms and hugging him tightly.
“You’re okay, Kid,” Jason mumbled. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re okay. We’ve rescheduled your party, all you need to do is rest and-”
“Party?”
Jason shifted, just enough to look down on Tim without actually letting go of him.
“Don’t tell me you forgot about your birthday?” Jason chuckled, ruffling Tim’s hair.
Birthday?
Birthday.
But… But Tim was dying, no matter what Jason claimed otherwise. He was dying, he had to be dying considering he felt like this. He was going to die and he was going to die on his birthday because the world was just that cruel?
“Great,” Tim huffed. “I got a cold on my birthday.”
“Yeah,” Jason laughed. “But like I said, at least it’s not pneumonia.”
“Feels like pneumonia.”
“You’re just being dramatic.”
“Can’t breathe, dipshit. And you’re blurry.”
“You’re actively breathing, dipshit,” Jason replied. “And if I’m blurry, it’s only because you’re fucking dehydrated because you pulled out your damn IV, again.”
“No one was there.” Tim croaked. “I- No one was there.”
Jason shifted again, leaning his chin on Tim’s head.
“I know,” Jason said. “But you’re okay. We’re okay. Everyone’s okay. I’m sorry you were alone, but I promise I won’t leave again.”
Tim didn’t know why he was still crying but he couldn’t help it. His legs trembled, head spinning faster. Jason changed his grip easily and all at once Tim wasn’t touching the ground. Tim buried into Jason’s chest, eyes squeezed shut.
“Just rest, Timbit,” Jason said. “I’ve got you. Even if you’re an overdramatic little shit.”
“You’re an overdramatic little shit.” Tim muttered, letting his body relax all the same.