"Whump"tober 2021

#8) That Nagging Feeling- DCU

Prompt #8- Coughing up a lung. DCU- Damian

Robin resisted the urge to tug his cape tighter around his shoulders. It was June, so the chill running down his spine couldn't bode well. Combined with a headache and scratchy throat he knew he must have picked up a bug somewhere. Mentally Robin scoffed. Mother had him climbing mountains at five years old, whatever 'this' was he'd handled ten times worse.

"Robin, I have eyes on the target. On my mark we'll move in."

The urge to cough built in Robin's chest. He forced it down, somewhat relieved Batman didn't anticipate a response. They needed stealth right now. A sudden cough would most certainly give away their position and all of Father's work over the last week would be for nothing. So he held it in. If Batman noticed it took him a second longer to react to his signal, he didn't mention it.

Mercifully the criminals fell swiftly before the Dynamic Duo and a stolen data chip safely retrieved. With it pushing one in the morning Batman directed the Batmobile back to the cave rather than another patrol point. Robin didn't say anything but some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed... only for a pounding headache to attack his senses.

Robin scoffed, then caught his breath as another urge to cough came over him. A small sound leaked out. Batman turned a questioning glance at Robin, but the boy kept his gaze solidly ahead.

Not soon enough the vehicle roared into the Batcave. To his surprise and annoyance, Todd sat lounging in the chair of the Batcomputer. One leg was propped up on some pillows along the computer's monitors, encased in white plaster. Some mindless video game displayed life-like graphics on the large screen.

"Jason." Father didn't sound surprised, but then again he never was.

"Nope. Engrossed in a game. Ask Dick. Something about 'broken legs and no patrolling' yadaya."

Father grunted but Damian knew it wasn't his angry sound, more like fondly exasperated. Or at least that's how Grayson worded it when Damian first acclimated to the manner.

With a quick glance toward Damian, Father disappeared further into the cave- probably to follow up on Todd's recommendation. Damian debated following but decided Grayson's bloodhound instincts would pick up on his respiratory issues too quickly. It was nothing. He didn't need anyone to know.

Quickly Damian showered, changed, and headed for the manor staircase. Bypassing the kitchen, where the infernal noises of Drake trying to use the coffeemaker emitted, Damian beelined for his room.

Grateful for the lead lined walls Damian let loose a fierce cough... then another and another. Doubling over didn't open his lungs any further. Damian found himself on his knees when air mercifully sucked into his lungs. The room started spinning. Growling under his breath Damian inched toward the bed. Shaking his head, Damian eased onto his bed. 'This is absurd.' He'd endured worse.

If he could climb a mountain with a broken fibula, he could handle a measly respiratory infection. His head pounded but it felt like a leopard had taken its claws and jabbed them into Damian's chest. Unfortunately he knew exactly how that felt from experience.

Shoving that thought away he settled onto the comforter. He couldn't afford to look weak to Father. If he- if he sent Damian back to Mother... a rebel curl of fear rose within him. While things here still didn't make sense frequently, Father had shown himself to take an interest in Damian's wellbeing. Something the Demon's Head had only exploited.

Father had no need to be displeased with his performance. He would be fine. More harsh coughs wracked Damian's chest. Damian bit back a groan. Stupid faulty immune system. Growing up in the desert didn't prepare one for the microbes that grew in the perpetual darkness and wet streets that were Gotham.

After some rest he'd be fine.

Just as Damian started to drift off his chest tightened. He bolted upright, another coughing spell shaking his body. When he stilled Damian knotted the sheets below him. Pennyworth kept stocks of peppermint tea in the kitchen that he swore was good for coughing. At this time even Pennyworth and Father had to be in bed. Another ache shot through Damian's chest and he grudgingly sat up. The action took more energy than it should have.

Ignoring the pounding behind his eyes Damian padded to his door and toward the kitchen. He froze when he saw the light spilling out of the kitchen door. Briefly Damian considered retreating upstairs until the inhabitant- most likely the inept Drake- disappeared elsewhere in the house-

"Damian?"

Damian froze. When had Grayson slipped into the manor? "Yes, Grayson?" To his pride Damian managed to keep his voice from cracking.

His older brother sat sprawled on the counter top, head tilted and eyes narrowing with concern. "What are you doing awake? You have school tomorrow."

Damian internally cursed. For a blissful moment he'd forgotten he had to get up in the morning. "I merely needed to consult Pennyworth, but since he is not here I won't linger."

He turned to leave when another painful tingling took hold of his chest. Not now! Damian turned to make a quick exit.

"Damian."

Damian froze. "Yes-" His voice cut off in a series of increasingly painful coughs.

"Dami?" A clatter came from behind him seconds before a strong hand started rubbing circles on his back. "Why didn't you tell me or Bruce you didn't feel good?" The question made Damian flinch.

"I-" Damian broke off again. He took several deep breaths to try and stop the spinning in his head. "I'm fine. Mother has trained me for worse conditions. You have no need to worry yourself."

"That might have been how you did things with the League, but here things are much different. Starting with when you're sick you rest. Exacerbating your body won't help the symptoms."

"But-"

"Bed. Now." Damon couldn't find it in himself to disobey a direct order- even if Grayson wasn't technically his guardian anymore

He hung his head and headed back upstairs. Grayson's footsteps followed behind him. Damian shoved down the shame at being treated like a toddler. Whatever had managed to overwhelm his immune system did not warrant such treatment.

Damian stiffly entered his room and climbed back on his bed. Seconds later hands held out a glass and a couple of pills that had appeared from somewhere on Grayson's person. "I don't need-"

"Non-negotiable. Ibuprofen-" Grayson pointed to one pill then the next, "Mucolytic for the chest congestion."

Damian stopped arguing and reluctantly took the pills. The cup he set gently on a nearby end table. His bed suddenly sagged with Grayson's weight.

"Damian," Damian kept his gaze on the sheets in front of him. "Damian, please look at me." A direct order. Damian dragged his eyes to meet Grayson's. "I know your mother had certain... beliefs... about training, but here is different. You don't feel well, you rest. Trying to push through doesn't do your body any favors. Here you have nothing to prove and no one is going to hurt you- let alone because you're not in top condition. Bruce will say the same- even if he doesn't always pay attention to his own wellbeing." Grayson huffed in amusement. "We get to take care of each other now, respiratory bug or no."

Grayson signed and ran a hand through Damian's hair. Damian bristled but Grayson continued the motion. "We'll talk more in the morning. For now you need to go back to sleep."

Damian wanted to argue he'd never fallen asleep in the first place so he couldn't go 'back' to it, but the constant caress on his scalp melted the words away.

Tomorrow... tomorrow he'd outline the points why he could be active as Robin, but for now... for now he'd sleep feeling as safe and protected as he'd ever felt in his life.