#Later Tim wakes up to Jason making chicken noodle soup

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Brothers

whumptober23 day 13- cold compress fandom- batman TW- sickness summary- Tim is definitely not sick. Jason disagrees.

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Tim feels absolutely awful. His head is pounding and he can’t even look at his computer screen to try and work through a case. Currently, he’s squinting at paper file about the latest suspicious shipments, but the words keep swimming in his head.

Maybe he should drink some coffee. Yup. That will definitely help. He stands up from his couch and manages two steps before dizziness overtakes him and he ends up on the floor. 

He groans and tries to push himself up but his arms tremble.

Whatever, the floor is pretty comfy anyway. But coffee. He tries to push himself up again. He can’t be weak. He can’t afford to be. He has to go on patrol tonight.

Which means he needs to be awake enough for it. So coffee. He manages to get up and stumble to the kitchen.

He’s in the middle of trying to steady his hand so he can pour the coffee grounds into the coffee maker when he hears his window slide open. He startles, dropping the coffee grounds which spill over the floor. He’s about to be sad about that, but then the vertigo from spinning around hits and he has to grip the counter to stay upright while fighting back nausea.

“Hey, Timberlina, I’m here to grab some files.”

It’s Jason.

Tim can’t help but feel annoyed. Jason has his own files. He doesn't need to steal Tim’s. But he doesn't want to open his mouth to say any of this because if he does he’s afraid he’s going to throw up.

“Tim?” Jason pokes his head into the kitchen, sees him catalog the dropped coffee and Tim who has a white knuckled grip on the counter to keep himself from falling over. “Shit, Tim. What’s wrong with you?”

Tim wants to give him the middle finger, but holding on to the counter is the only thing keeping him upright. So, he settles for scowling aggressively, but Jason just snorts.

Tim opens his mouth to tell Jason to get out, but immediately shuts it again as the nausea intensifies. He sways slightly before tightening his grip on the counter.

And wow, he should really be more aware of his surrounding because suddenly Jason’s in front of him reaching a hand out toward Tim’s head. He flinches back.

“Calm down, Timberly, I’m checking if you have a fever.

“I’m not sick.” Tim says through gritted teeth.

“Sure you aren’t.” Jason says but his hand is now on Tim’s forehead and he’s scowling. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.” the nausea has subsided slightly, but Tim still feels dizzy.

Jason doesn’t dignify that with a response. Then he sighs. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.”

“I said–”

“You’re fine. I know. Which means you’re perfectly well enough to clean up the coffee grounds.”

Tim gulped, glancing down at the mess. The idea of having to bend down made the nausea spike.

“That’s what I thought. Now either you go lay down on your own, or I’ll carry you.”

“I–” 

Jason raised an eyebrow.

Tim took a slow breath and let go of the counter. He hadn’t even managed it one step before a wave vertigo overtook him and he felt his legs give out. He expects to hit the ground, but instead strong arms catch him and pick him up. Tim looks up into Jason’s face, but he’s not looking at him.

Jason walks quickly and Tim is promptly deposited onto his bed. Jason exits his bedroom and Tim wonders if Jason’s has left. But a moment later, Jason walks back in carrying a bowl, a cup with water, and a cold compress. 

“What…” Tim starts, but doesn’t know how to continue.

Jason sets the cup down on the bedside table, lifts the bowl saying, “If you need to puke,” before setting it by the bed. Then he lays the cold compress across Tim’s forehead and Tim sighs in relief. 

“I’ll let you get some sleep.” Jason says and turns to go.

“Wait–” 

Jason pauses.

And Tim really must be sick because he continues. “Please don’t go.”

Jason doesn’t move and Tim resigns himself to Jason leaving. But after a moment Jason sighs, going to sit down in an armchair in the corner of the room. “Fine. But you better get some sleep.” Then, out of one of his cargo pants pockets, Jason pulls out a small book.

Tim opens his mouth to tease him, but shuts his mouth as Jason starts to read outloud.

“Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.”

And as Jason continued to read, Tim fell asleep.