Daddy Bats One-shots

Sickness

(A/N) this was requested by @ILOVEBRAKENFUR

Bruce was up earlier than usual. He couldn't sleep. He looked at the watch on his wrist. The glass face told him that it was around 4 in the morning. He was about to ask Alfred to bring him a steaming cup of coffee until he remembered that Alfred was away visiting a friend of his. Bruce sighed and resigned to go back to bed when suddenly, he heard something. He paused and listened intently. He heard the sound again and could easily determine that the sound was someone's stomach trying to exit out their mouth. Sadness hit Bruce like a wave. He knew that that meant Richard was sick. Bruce was never really good with sickness but he had to do this for his boy. He tried to be quiet as he approached his sons room. When the door opened, Bruce could barely make out the boys hunched over figure as he threw up into a trash can beside his bed." Tatá?" He asked in a raspy voice." Yes, it's me, little bird." Bruce responded, crossing the dark room to the bed." How do you feel?" Dick chuckled weakly." I feel like crap." The man pulled his son into a gentle side hug in an attempt to comfort the sick boy." I think I'm done throwing my guts out. I don't think I have any guts left to throw up." Bruce smiled and gave a little laugh." Okay then. Why don't you lay back down and try to sleep." The little bird nodded slightly and laid down. Bruce didn't leave, instead he placed a callused hand on his sons back. He rubbed little circles around his spine, trying to lessen the pain. Bruce wasn't sure how long it had been but he soon heard level breathing and felt a steady heartbeat. He left the room quietly to grab a phone. He dialed the tone and waited anxiously for Alfred to answer. Then someone picked up." Hello?" Bruce asked into speaker. A curt British voice answered him." May I ask who this is?" Bruce almost laughed." Alfred, it's me. Bruce." Bruce could just imagine Alfred's face with the raised eyebrow and that silently judging look." Master Bruce, pardon my abruptness but why are you calling me?" Bruce made what sounded like a combination of a sigh and a laugh." Well, I'm calling because I think Dick has the flu and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."" Ohh. Well, if he has stopped, umm, getting sick, then the best thing is get him something simple to eat, like soup. If he can keep that down, than you can try medicine. Make sure he rests. You and I both know how stubborn Master Richard can be." Now Bruce actually laughed." Yes, he can be very very... Very stubborn. Well thank you, Alfred. You, sir, are a life saver."" Why yes, Alfred replied, I am." Bruce shook his head in mock frustration." Goodbye Alfred. I will see you when you get back."" Goodbye." The call-has-ended-tone sounded and Bruce hung up the phone. Hopefully now, he could do what was best for Dick. 'This dad thing isn't so hard.' The man thought. Then he heard his son throw up again, this time in the hallway. Then the Dark Knight, the Protector of Gotham went to go clean up the floor.