Work Text:
Tim blinked. Eyelids heavy. The text on the computer blurred in front of him. He blinked again. It didn't clear up.
There was a ringing echoing through the cave. Alternating between his ears.
Tim sighed, leaning back into his chair. He let his eyes flutter shut. One second— I'll just rest my eyes for a second…
When Tim opened his eyes, he was met with the scowling face of Batman. He straightened up immediately, scrambling to get a sense of the situation.
Batman looked on impassively.
Tim swallowed. "Bruce," He ignored the aching in his throat.
A flash of green from up above. Tim didn't look for Robin. It wouldn't make a difference anyway.
"Bruce?" He repeated. To the untrained eye, Batman looked the same as always. Stoic and unreadable. Tim wasn't untrained. He had been reading Batman's expressions for as long as he could remember.
"Red Robin." His voice boomed. Tim didn't flinch— he didn't have the energy for that.
Silence. Tim's fingers twitched. Say something, one part of his brain hissed. Say what? He thought back, what does he want to hear?
In the end, Tim opened his mouth, ready for apologies to spill out.
That was all the prompting Batman needed.
"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped.
"I—"
"I don't recall asking you to take a nap."
"I know and—"
"You know?" A humorless laugh. "If you know, then why are you lazing around instead of doing your casework?"
A pause.
"I was working on my casework," Tim said smoothly, "And I fell asleep. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
Narrowed eyes.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"I'm sorry." Tim repeated. "I— I wasn't feeling well—"
"Wasn't feeling well." The temperature in the cave seemed to drop. Tim couldn't help but shiver as Batman came closer. "I'm sure the victims are feeling great."
"I'm a little sick, but i promise it won't impact my work," Tim whispered.
A glance at his open casework. "It already has."
He did flinch this time.
"Sorry."
"It's not even a hard case," Batman continued like Tim hadn't said anything at all, "If you can't even complete simple tasks…"
"I can!" Tim exclaimed, wincing when it irritated his throat. "I can— I just needed a minute—"
"A minute is what stands between life and death." Batman stalked impossibly closer. "People died in the time you were sleeping. Every second you waste is a life wasted."
Tim shrunk back into his chair. Head pounding. "It's a cold case from twenty years ago," He couldn't help but mutter.
"Oh?" Batman's voice had gone cold. All the previous anger gone. The cave had gone so silent that you could hear a pin drop.
Glancing up, Tim saw Robin's wide eyes watching. He shook his head minutely. Trying to urge him to leave with his body language alone. Robin stayed.
Tim didn't know how long they stewed in silence. It could've been minutes or hours. All he did was stare into the cowl.
Finally, Batman opened his mouth and spoke, "Leave."
"What?" There was no disguising the shake in his voice now.
"Get out."
"Why—?"
"You have one purpose, and if you can't even fulfill that, then there's no point in keeping you here."
"Bruce please!" Tim reached out to grab onto Bruce but his hand was smacked away. The blurring in his eyes was different now. Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't—
"Red Robin," The command in his voice was unshakable, "Leave."
Tim hung his head and urged the tears building up not to spill. After all, Robin was still watching and he would have a field day knowing that Tim was crying over a little scolding.
Black spots immediately filled Tim's vision when he stood up. All the blood rushed out of his head and he stumbled to catch himself on the desk.
There was a sigh and then silence. Tim glanced up and was met with air.
Closing his eyes, Tim leaned more heavily against the table. Trying to take deep breaths. Waiting for the feeling to fade.
"Drake…?" A young voice asked. Tim pried his eyes open again, squinting when light flooded his retinas.
He glanced down to see Robin by his side. Hand reached out.
"Drake." He said again, "What's wrong with you?"
Tim didn't bother responding. Straightening up and shuffling to the cave exit, each step increased the exhaustion running through him.
"Drake!" Robin said again. Following Tim through the cave. He held his hands up— ready to catch him.
"I don't need help." Tim snapped. He truly didn't. What he needed was half a bottle of Advil and a cup of coffee. What he needed was to finish this case before Bruce came back. What he needed was to be useful.
Damian raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "It appears that you are about to keel over at any moment."
"Well I'm not."
"Should I go get Richard?" The little demon brat asked. Tim whipped his head around so fast that the black spots reappeared.
"Why would you get Dick?" He asked, aghast.
"Well, there's clearly something wrong with you," Damian sniffed. Looking upon Tim with disdain.
"And what's Dick going to do about it?" Tim shot back. He resisted the urge to sigh… or bash his head into the nearest wall.
Robin looked at him like he was a complete idiot. "Fix you."
"I don't need to be fixed!" Tim shouted, it strained his already raw vocal cords. "There's nothing wrong with me!"
Damian rolled his eyes, "I was referring to your poor health—"
"Just shut up!" Tim roared, throwing his hands up. Robin flinched back.
All the blood in Tim's body ran cold.
"Wait shit sorry— I didn't mean to—" He stuttered out.
"It's fine." Robin muttered.
"No really," Tim sighed, running his hand through his hair. Just another thing he's messed up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
Damian's eyes shot to Tim, "I'm not scared."
"Yeah of course," he mumbled.
"What was that."
"You're not scared," Tim agreed, holding out a hand, "can I take you up on your offer."
Narrowed eyes.
"Fine," Damian relented, "I shall take you to Richard."
He took Tim's hand.
And didn't let go.