90210 . young justice one-shots

Robin (Tim Drake) x Reader

{Unedited}

Keys:

Y/N = Your Name
S/H/N = Superhero Name
Y/W = Your Weapon

~.~.~.~.~.

My eyes watered as I sneezed, a low groan emitting from my throat. It was the third day in a row and I was still sick. At first it seemed like nothing; a few coughs here in there, a mildly sore throat. But it quickly began to grow and eventually I was passing out along with a fever. It wasn't until Batman stood me down from the team that I took a few days off to recover. 

"But I'm telling you, I'm fi-" I was caught off-guard by another sneeze, making everyone in the room cringe and take a slight step backwards. I sniffed and rubbed my now red nose.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Robin said, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes in response. We had been relatively close friends since we joined the team. I opened my mouth to protest his comment only to be cut off by Batman.
"(S/H/N), you are too sick to go off on any more missions with the team. It's too dangerous with you nearly passing out each time." I felt small under his uneasy stare and nodded my head. 
"Take the rest of the week off then report back once you're better. For now, just head home." 

So here I was, third day in a row, lying in my bed surrounded by tissues. My nose was either runny or dry - sometimes both. My throat was rough like sandpaper, occasionally bringing up mucus when I cough. All in all - I was a mess. Both of my parents had left for work almost an hour ago and the only sound was the music erupting from my laptop, accompanying me among the darkness in my room. 

Suddenly my phone lit up and began to vibrate. I groaned loudly and slipped it off the dresser, staring into the bright screen. It was from Tim. We'd been friends for almost four years now. And when one of us were gone for half a week, the other would know for sure that something was up. At times I tried to make connections between Tim and Robin, with the way both walked and wrote, and little ways they both used 'um's and 'like's in their sentences.

Where are you? You haven't been to school in 3 days. The message read. I quickly replied, Home. Sick. I was too tired to even begin to explain. I didn't even have time to put my phone down when it went off again. I'm coming over. I began to panic and looked around at the state of my room, realizing that I was wearing the same shirt and pant from the past three days in a row.

There was a knock on my door.
"Don't come in, I'm not pretty yet!" I called out. Tim snickering from behind the door, opening it and gasping at my state. 
"You weren't lying when you said you were sick, huh?"
"Why would I lie? You know how much I adore school," I groaned, flopping back on my bed. Tim sat the edge of my bed, obviously trying not to get infected. We sat in silence as music blared lightly from my laptop that was surely going to die from being on for so long. 

I threw myself up in a coughing fit, feeling myself gasping for air with every break in between chokes. Tim rushed to my side, rubbing my back. At one point I was sure I was going to throw up, which actually resulted with my coughing fit to subside. A stinging tear had rolled down my cheek as I leaned back against Tim with his arm wrapped around my shoulders, my eyes half shut. 
"Kill me now," I croaked, wiping away the tear. Tim chuckled before saying, "and why would that be?" 
"Because I feel and look like crap," I sighed, finally allowing my eyes to shut. Tim gently rubbed my arm and rested his chin on my head. The heat radiating from his body began to lull me to sleep and I quickly found myself falling asleep. 
"If only I could tell you."

I was still sick the next day. So I was still home again. But after taking a heck load of meds I finally took it upon myself to head back to Mount Justice and get on a mission.