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Tim was sick. And when Tim is sick, the whole family knows to act upon a few unspoken ground rules.
1) Don’t take his laptop away from him by force. He will get it back from you, and he will get his revenge.
The last time someone tried, it was Dick who was trying to make Tim stop working on cases. Suffice it to say, it ended horribly and Dick gained a tooth-like scar on his arm for a few months.
2) Don’t say anything stupid. He has no filter when he’s sick and, therefore, will not hesitate to make fun of you completely and humiliatingly.
Duke once asked him if it was possible to bake without eggs which left Tim laughing at him cruelly for an hour. This was followed by a 12-hour PowerPoint presentation on other methods that could easily substitute eggs while baking. Ever since then, Duke attempted to stay silent whenever Tim was sick to avoid another long presentation.
3) Give him love. He will cling to you even if you try to get away, so please, for the love of all things good, just give the poor boy a hug or something.
All members of the family had experienced this several times. Dick often took Tim patrolling with him, even if he was sick because Tim wouldn’t stop clinging to his back like a koala. There was a running theory that Tim’s touch-starved childhood is the reason for his clinginess, but nobody wanted to approach him about it.
If they denied him cuddles, he pouted, and even Jason, the famous I-tried-to-kill-Tim-Drake-once-or-twice (everyone’s tried to do that at some point, Jason, you’re not special), couldn’t bear to see him pouting when he was sick.
Especially due to his missing spleen, making him more prone to having harsh symptoms, the family was all very loving toward him whenever he was sick.
This is why, when the Justice League called for a meeting to discuss interplanetary relations regarding a new species of alien they had just discovered, Tim was draped over Bruce Wayne’s back, begging him not to leave.
“Nooo, why must you forsake me like this?” Tim whined grumpily. His face was red from the fever and Bruce noticed that he was sweating. Bruce pressed a damp towel to his son’s face and cleaned him up. Then, he produced a new damp towel and held it to his forehead.
“Tim, this meeting is important. I can’t just not go,” Bruce explained gently.
Tim squeezed his dad’s arm in frustration. “But no one else is home right now. Would you really abandon your sick son? Leaving him alone? In this awful state?” Despite being overridden by a fever, Tim still had a way with words.
And not to mention….Oh, no. There it was. Those darned puppy dog eyes that he only used when he wanted something.
Bruce sighed. How was he going to get out of this?
“Take me with you, then,” Tim finally said, looking proud of himself for having such a great idea. To be fair, normal Tim wouldn’t have proposed this. Well, maybe he would’ve, but not without thinking of other solutions first. Alas, this wasn’t normal Tim. This was Tim who had a high fever and was running on…how much sleep? Last he could recall was sleeping…maybe three days ago? He couldn’t remember. As long as he was still functioning (partially) he could last.
Bruce could tell Tim wasn’t going to relent and he was already running a few minutes late. Bruce sighed and said, “Alright. But suit up, and remember—”
“No giving away secrets, yeah, yeah. I’m sick, Bruce, not stupid,” Tim deadpanned.
~~~
[Back at the Watchtower]
Not everyone was assembled for this particular meeting as it only required a few people. These people included Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Green Lantern (Hal Jordan), Aquaman, and the Flash. Everyone else was busy in their own city—or made up an excuse to not come, which was fine since there wasn’t an emergency warranting the meeting.
Well…almost everyone who had to be there was there, actually. The team was still waiting for Batman to come.
Barry was tapping his fingers at an unseeable pace, clearly bored. It had only been a few minutes since they had arrived, and he was already growing fidgety. It was understandable, though. Time moves much slower when you move much faster than others.
“Tch,” Hal tutted, “leave it to the one who always lectures us on punctuality to be late.”
Clark restrained a sigh and said, “Give him time. I’m sure that whatever is making Batman late is important since he’d never be tardy on purpose.”
“Agreed,” Diana nodded.
Not a moment later, they heard the zeta tube announcing Batman’s presence. What shocked them, however, was the zeta announcing a guest with him.
“Since when did Batman bring guests…?” Barry wondered aloud.
“Since I forced him to,” a voice replied. The League’s heads turned so fast they almost got whiplash.
Standing—no, not standing. The mystery person was being piggybacked on Batman’s back.
Wow. There was so much to unpack from this.
“Who’s this, Batman?” Clark asked kindly, hoping to prevent the team from bursting out with badly phrased questions.
“He’s—”
“I’m perfectly capable of answering for myself, thank you,” the stranger replied, with what implied a roll of his eyes which were covered by a domino mask.
Remember how we said that Tim had no filter when he was sick? Yeah.
“The name’s Red Robin,” Tim stated, sliding off of Batman’s back, only to wobble on his feet slightly.
Clark was about to go help him, but to everyone’s surprise, Batman put an arm around his waist and steadied him.
“Yes, but, um, who—” Barry started before being cut off.
“Geez, B, is your team always this slow?” Red asked blandly.
Remember how we also said Tim insulted dumb questions when he was sick? Again: yeah.
“I’m obviously a vigilante,” Red Robin said. “You’d think the outfit and the name made that clear, huh.”
Batman decided to cut in, “He operates in Gotham, that’s all you need to know.” He then produced an extra chair and placed it beside his own, placing the young man in it carefully.
“But why is he here—”
“I said, that’s all you need to know,” Batman growled.
“Right,” Clark said hesitantly. He could hear Hal grumbling insults under his breath. “Well, should we get started, then…?”
And so, the meeting began. Everyone opened the files on their desk while simultaneously trying to avoid eyeing the young man sprawled out on his chair.
Tim was bored. He was in space, he was in a meeting with the freaking Justice League, he was in the most unbreachable (he’s hacked into it several times but they don’t know that) place in the world, and yet…And yet! He was bored.
Give him something to do, something to read, something to eat. Honestly, these people were terrible hosts. He could forgive them, though, since they weren’t aware he would be attending but still. Still!
Tim leaned into his dad’s arm, his fever making his mind muddled. He ignored the pointed stares he got from the League from that action and instead focused on making himself comfortable without bothering Bruce to the best of his abilities.
He soon gave up, though. The chair he was sitting on was creating an annoying barrier between him and his dad and it was annoying.
Huffing in annoyance, Tim got up and kicked the chair, forcing it to roll away, across the room. He stuck his tongue out at it.
“Stupid chair,” he mumbled. He made his way over to Batman who, immediately and with practiced ease, repositioned himself to allow the young vigilante to sit on his lap comfortably.
At this point, the League was definitely not paying attention to their files.
Flash gave Martian Manhunter a pointed look, signaling him to set up a mind link between them.
J’onn understood and did so, resulting in everyone yelling over each other telepathically.
“Who is that kid?!”
“Yeah, and why is Batman so comfortable with him?”
“Better yet, why is the kid so comfortable with Bats?!”
“He’d kill me if I got that close to him!”
“And why did he let the kid sit in on our meeting?”
These and many other questions were thrown around, everyone ignoring what they were supposed to be doing as they watched the boy nuzzle into Batman’s shoulder.
“Well?” Batman finally said, closing the file. “What do we think?”
The League froze.
“I—I’m not done reading yet…?” Barry said, phrasing it as a question.
Batman glared at the obvious lie but gestured for them to continue reading, which they immediately did.
Bored, bored, bored. Tim nudged Bruce with his finger.
Bruce suppressed a sigh and pushed his files in front of the boy to read. He stood and, not a moment later, returned with a cup of coffee in his hands which he also placed in front of the boy.
Returning to their previous position, Tim was now much more comfortable. Some case files, some coffee, his dad—what more could a sick boy want?
The team, however, looked on in horror. Batman cleared his throat and everyone turned back to their work.
“Why is he pretending like nothing’s wrong?!” Barry questioned in their mind link.
Clark heard Red Robin whisper something to Batman and relayed the conversation for the team to hear.
“Are they always this slow?” Red whispered to Bruce. “I started reading after them and I’m already done.”
“Sometimes,” Batman sighed resignedly.
This led to more annoyed protests in the mind link.
“Can you get me my laptop?” Red Robin asked next. “I think I have an idea.” Batman nodded and brought him his laptop and electronics case in under a minute.
By the time he returned, the team had finished reading about the aliens and were prepared to discuss.
Tim set up his equipment and began typing at an intense speed. The team tried to focus and present their ideas.
Clark cleared his throat. “I believe we should take a diplomatic approach,” he started. “Based on some of these reports, they value intelligent discussion over other means.” He continued to present his idea and elaborated on some points.
Once he was done, Batman wrote the idea down on a whiteboard.
Hal presented his idea next. “I think we should fight them. There were more reports that said those who waged war against them eventually resulted in having peace treaties with them and there weren’t even that many casualties.” He also began to elaborate on the idea which Batman also wrote down.
They went around like this until everyone had presented an idea. Finally, Batman spoke. “Red Robin? Anything to input?”
Again, the team was surprised. Batman was actually asking someone for their opinion?! He hated the League’s opinions!
Yeah. The League’s opinions. Red Robin was not the League and they would soon realize that.
“Ugh, finally,” Tim said. “I was wondering when you’d get to—Achoo!—me. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but maybe I do need a nap.” He rubbed his face with his hands and stood up. “Okay, boys—and woman,” he gave a respectful nod to Wonder Woman, “Please keep your eyes on the screen and do not interrupt me until I’m done.”
The League blinked. Blink, blink. This kid was addressing them like they were children!
Bruce had to hold back a laugh (not that they noticed, to them he looked as brooding as ever). This situation reminded him of when Tim was still Robin and reprimanded the GCPD for not solving the Riddler’s riddle when it was clearly oh-so-easy.
Tim set up his laptop to be presented on a screen. “This,” he began, clicking on of the many tabs he had open, “is the current broadcasting television the Viripiciulus people are watching. Yes, in real-time.”
Now Bruce really had to hold back a smile. Oh, the look on the League’s face was truly priceless. He doubted they were even aware of what the name of the alien species—the Viripiciula—was.
“I programmed a translator while you guys were reading up on the files so that we can see what they're watching in context.” He flipped through the channels. “Now, as you can see from the many reruns of what appears to be a show similar to “The Brady Bunch,” as well as war movies, you were all correct to some degree. Yes, the Viripiciula do enjoy family, as Green Arrow mentioned, they also appreciate diplomacy, as Superman mentioned, and they like fighting, as Green Lantern mentioned.
“However, this does not mean they like war, per se. They enjoy a good battle but value family enough that they do not want to see people getting hurt at risk of someone’s family member dying.
Tim sniffled a little, causing Batman to nonchalantly hand him a tissue. “Thanks,” he said as he blew his nose.
“Now,” he continued, “this brings us to the question: ‘Well, Red Robin, if they like fighting, diplomacy, and family, what should we do?’ I’m so glad you asked. If you direct your attention here,” he switched tabs again, “I’ve collected some data on the media they consume regarding war. Yes, I also did that while you guys were readin— honestly! You guys need to read faster—but I digress, I’ll address that issue after we have established peace with the Viripiciula.
“Now, as you can see,” he took a long chug from his coffee which he wordlessly handed to Batman to refill, “Most content revolves around Colosseum-style fighting. Now, what does this tell us? They enjoy watching battles. But, as previously stated, they don’t want to see people dying. Now can anyone tell me how that helps us?”
He looked at the group while silently taking his coffee from Batman. He was only met with blank looks though, so he sighed. He pulled Batman’s chair closer to the screen and sat on it cross-legged. He placed the mug between his legs and grabbed Batman’s hand, playing with it absentmindedly. His clinginess-due-to-sickness behavior was showing again.
Now, the team was just looking at Red Robin playing with Batman’s hand. They couldn’t even form thoughts regarding the information they were given.
“Oh, come on! Do I really have to do everything myself? Honestly, B, I think Da— Robin, is right, maybe your team really isn’t a good fit for you, like, seriously, what is this?”
Red Robin sighed, taking another swig of his coffee. “Look, how about I just handle this, yeah?” He looked at Batman. “Permission? Clearly, your team is out of their wit’s end and can’t be trusted to make decisions right now.”
At this, Hal finally broke out of his stupor. “Excuse me, kid? Who do you think you are talking to—”
“I believe I said to save questions for the end, yes?” Red asked. He sneezed, almost cutely, but none of the team would admit to that. They were beginning to get really annoyed, to say the least.
Batman wordlessly pushed Red Robin’s chair to the table and handed him the communication device they had been using to communicate with the aliens— the Viripiciulus. They were still feeling sheepish that they hadn't known the species' name.
“Cool, thanks,” Red Robin said before sneezing again. “Here, I’ll turn on the subtitle feature on my translating device so that you guys will know what I’m saying.”
Huh? What did he mean by that? Their question was immediately answered when Red Robin began speaking in an unknown language. The translator device behind him recognized the language as Viripic, the language that the Viripiciulus people spoke.
“Greetings, Blue-Eyed Covens,” Tim began. The translator showed a little question mark, meaning that it wasn’t sure how accurately it translated the phrase Tim said.
“I am Red Robin, speaking on behalf of planet 87-bb. You have been talking with my fellow cave-dwellers, yes?” The team couldn’t hear the reply but hoped it was good since Red nodded along.
“Good, yes. I am here to elaborate on that. In hopes of reaching a common goal, as well as for a future filled with lovely moss-covered ceilings, I bring a proposal to you, O Great One.”
The team was impressed. When had Red Robin learned the species’ language, much less their phrases for respect and sayings?
“I propose an honorable fight. We would bring forth valued fighters from both sides and watch them show their pride in the contest of battle. Of course, we would not be hoping to physically injure anybody, as it is just for fun.” Again, Red Robin went silent as he listened to the other side speaking.
“Yes, of course, that can be arranged. I would personally also love to see your famed Gnara Mountain. Yes, of course! Many tales speak of the outstanding feats performed there!”
Again, silence. “You don’t say! Well, then, now we absolutely must meet! I know everything there is to know about that and would love to discuss it with you…Yes, yes, of course. My fellow cave-dwellers will contact you again, O Great One, and establish a meeting time that would be beneficial for both parties. Yes, it was a pleasure, I hope to meet you soon. Farewell.”
Red Robin put down the communicator and burst into a wide smile. “Haha! Who’s the greatest? I’m the greatest! But her there, B!” Red Robin exclaimed, holding his hand out for Batman to high-five.
To the team’s neverending surprise, Batman did give him a high-five, right before ruffling his hair fondly.
“Hey! Not the hair!” Red laughed, slapping Batman’s hand away.
“Good work, Red Robin,” Batman said. Was that pride the League heard in his voice?
“Thanks. They’ll be expecting you guys to call them and give them a time and place for the battle. I’ll go over their rules for these things at a later time. You’ll have to call them on Tuesday— it’s like a sacred day for peace negotiations for them, so you’ll be showing your good intentions if you do. Mmm…I think that’s it? I can go over some laws and customs later if you want. Dismissed.”
At this, the League finally began asking everything they had been withholding (since Red Robin told them they could only ask questions when he was done talking). Red only frowned though and sneezed again.
“Look, as much as I’d love to answer you guys, I really need to sleep for once. I’m dead tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes through the mask. He rose and jumped onto Batman’s back, immediately being held firmly by Batman’s quick instincts.
“Let’s go home, B, you can deal with them later,” Red Robin slurred, leaning into his dad.
Batman casually nodded and headed to the zeta tubes before the team could say:
“Home?! You live together?”
And, “Wait, but our questions!”
That was a problem for future Batman to handle, not Red Robin. Red Robin just wanted to cuddle with his dad, and hopefully, his siblings who should be back from patrol by now, and sleep.