IMPULSE WRITING SO IT'LL BE BAD

                                    

                                          
YES I'M WRITING THIS BECAUSE I AM ANGRY ABOUT THE LACK OF FOOD FOR MY TALON DICK LOVING ASS SO HERE WE GO
                          
I mentioned before about his inability to feel pain making it necessary for him to do self-checks so here's the story behind that and maybe I'll do some shippy stuff with it too - y'all can battle it out to choose a ship for it 
                          
Also y'all ever just seize up and like freak out when you get cold 
                          
EDIT: TW VOMIT//BLOOD
                          


                          


                          
Robin returned to a rather successful patrol. He stopped two bank robberies, sixteen muggings, four store robberies, and five attempted murders. A job well done if he said so himself and not a single scratch on him. Well, he couldn't feel a scratch on him. Then again he wouldn't be able to feel them anyway. He walked through the Batcave, said goodnight to his family, then went to bed. All the while having no idea about the stab would beginning to get infected in his torso. 
                          


                          


                          
It took a few days before for the gravity of not noticing this set in but when it did, it hit him hard.
                          


                          


                          
Bruce sat at the breakfast table as his boys chattered amongst one another. He glanced up from his paper once or twice to make sure they were actually eating yet noticed someone was missing. "Where's Dick?" he asked. He wasn't really worried about the boy not being there. He found himself hoping that he was fighting his Talon tendency to wake up at the crack of dawn and actually slept in. "I did knock on his door this morning but perhaps he was especially tired," Alfred commented as he served the billionaire his coffee. He hummed. He should probably wake the kid up before he missed half the day enjoying his newfound laziness. "Tim go fetch your brother," he ordered since Tim was the only one to finish his meal. The younger nodded and walked out, leaving the rest to chatter indistinctly over nothing in particular. He ascended the stairs and knocked on Dick's door then waited patiently for some sort of reply. None came his way. He raised an eyebrow at the oak and knocked again. "Dick, time to wake up," he called. Still nothing. He hummed determinedly and opened the door. "C'mon you've gotta eat..." His sentence trailed off as he looked over at the bed. Now Dick was small and the bed was huge. He often got swallowed up in it. But he never actually disappeared into the thing. Tim walked over just to make sure the aforementioned situation wasn't happening and found that there was indeed no one in the bed. That's when he heard the horrid sound of someone gagging coming from the ensuite bathroom. Judging by the lack of someone in the bed, he knew who was making the noise. That only made him more worried.
                          


                          


                          
Tim rushed over to the bathroom and knocked on the door. "Dick, it's Tim, are you alright in there?" he asked. Obviously he knew there was something wrong. Otherwise, why would he be gagging? He waited for a reply but heard another gag then the sound of the younger spitting something. "I'm coming in," he announced, unable to stand there and listen to any more. He opened the door and his stomach immediately twisted. Dick was sitting on the marble floor in his blue and white polka dot pajamas with his head resting on the toilet. A layer of shiny sweat shone on his skin and when Tim turned on the light to get a better look at him it shone more. He winced at the light and groaned as he tried to move his face away from the searing white bulb in the ceiling. His black bangs were pressed against his forehead, held in place by his feverish sweat, which made his stark pale green skin ever more evident. He weakly tried to open his eyes but squeezed them shut as soon as he saw the lightbulb. Tim caught on quickly and turned the light back off. "Dickie, what's wrong? I thought you said Talons don't get sick," he said as he sat down on the side of the bathtub.