This is yet another talon one :))
Dick rolled over and covered his ears. Bruce's alarm clock had been going off for 3 or so minutes longer than usual. He honestly didn't understand why Bruce kept the alarm clock in his room anyway. He frequently expressed his hatred of the thing. Why not leave it in Alfred's room? The butler was up at the crack of dawn anyway.
After another minute of the incessant beeping Dick rolled out of bed and stumbled over to Bruce's room, rubbing his eyes as he went in and fiddled around with the alarm until it turned off.
Bruce was still asleep, but it only took a nudge from Dick to get him to blearily open his eyes. "What's wrong Dickie?" He mumbled, his voice sounding scratchy.
Dick pointed at the alarm clock, causing Bruce to sigh.
"I'm not ready to get up," he grumbled, his body shaking with sudden coughs.
Dick felt Bruce's feverish forehead with one small hand, furrowing his brows when he felt the heat. He grabbed Bruce's hand and tugged on it.
"What's wrong bud?" Bruce asked.
'Sick,' Dick signed, pointing at Bruce.
Bruce coughed again. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Guess it's just what happens when you get old."
Dick tugged on Bruce's hand again, trying to pull him up out of bed. When the older man didn't budge he pointed a finger in the general direction of the Batcave.
"Need something?" Bruce asked.
Dick pointed to Bruce then signed 'pod'.
Bruce smiled softly. "Sorry bud, but that's not how my body works. The cryo pod only helps you, not me," he said.
Dick slumped. If only Alfred hadn't gone to England... the butler would surely know what to do...
"I just need a bit more rest and I'll be good as new," Bruce said, ruffling Dick's hair.
Dick didn't bother pointing out that Bruce had already gotten plenty of sleep, and instead opted to climb up onto the bed and curl up next to him.
—
A change in Bruce's breathing caused Dick to stir, shifting until he slid off the bed so he could better see his mentor.
Bruce seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. His skin was pale and covered in sweat. He'd pulled the blankets closer around him in his sleep, but he still seemed to be shivering, his breathing sounding like ragged gasps.
Dick shook Bruce's shoulder, trying to wake him, but the elder didn't stir, completely unaware of his son's panic.
The chime of Bruce's phone pulled Dick's attention from his mentor. He grabbed the device, unlocking it and pulling up the contacts list. He scrolled through, selecting the one labeled Barry Allen and pressing call.
"Hello?" Barry's voice came from the other end of the phone.
Dick whimpered quietly into the phone, not sure what to do.
"Is that you Dickie?" Barry asked.
Dick took a shaky breath, holding the phone close to his face, despite how much the noises coming from it felt like they were stabbing his over-sensitive ears.
"What's wrong?" Barry asked.
Dick sniffled. "B," he managed to croak out, his voice scratchy from disuse.
"Something's wrong with Bruce?" Barry asked.
Dick sobbed. "B," he mumbled once again.
"It's gonna be okay Dickie, I'll be there in a... in a flash," Barry said, ending the call as he sped out of his house.
—
Dick clutched the hand of one of the nurses as she led him to Bruce's room. Barry followed closely behind, not feeling right about just leaving Dick when his father figure was stuck in the hospital on some heavy antibiotics.
When they entered the room Dick noticeably stiffened. It was so much like the room he used to be taken to when he was with the court. A small white room without windows... injections, tubes hooked up to his veins... he flinched when Barry laid a hand on his shoulder.
You're not there," he reassured, pulling Dick's small frame into a hug. "Look," he continued, "there's the window, and they even brought in a doll for you to color so you can have a friend while you're here."
Dick glanced over his shoulder, trying not to let his gaze stray to Bruce and the machines he was hooked up to.
"Here," Barry said. "Let's color your doll."
—
Bruce groaned as he came to, opening his eyes when he felt movement by his side.
Dick was curled up next to him, skeptically examining the IV hooked up to his arm.
Bruce ruffled the boy's hair.
Dick looked up at Bruce, relief shining in his eyes. He moved his head so it rested on his father figure's chest, one small hand gripping Bruce's hospital gown tightly as if the man would disappear if he didn't hold on to him.
"You have quite the little hero there Bruce," Barry commented. "If it wasn't for him you might not have made it."
Dick whimpered when he heard that, nestling closer to his mentor.
Bruce wrapped his free arm around his son. "He's always been a hero to me," he said, rubbing circles on the boy's back.
Barry smiled softly. "Get some rest Bruce," he said as he left the room.
Bruce squeezed Dick a little tighter. "Thanks for taking care of me bud."