Continuing on from Can we keep him?

Dick is around 5 and Damian is protective as hell but he'll stab you before he admits it

TW: SMALL MENTION OF VOMIT

Damian adored his little brother Dick but he wouldn't have anyone know that. He made a big show and dance whenever he was given babysitting duty and complained every time he was given a task to do with the child. Yet, despite his show of anger, nobody really bought the act less so Dick who was now a spritely lad that was a delightful handful. He was the only one who could draw out that softer side of Damian, even getting the older to sneak him sweet treats when Bruce already said no. That was quite the feat considering Damian was insistent on keeping his diet healthy. The pair had been near inseparable since Damian saved Dick from freezing in the stairwell and from the moment of saving him, the older had become protective of the boy. Anyone that dared to upset Dick was asking for death when Damian caught word of it, leading to a few fights at galas where comments had been made that Dick wouldn't understand but he certainly did. Bruce only mildly punished him by sending him to bed without dinner but Dick would sneak food away and give it to the other. This bond they shared was powerful so when Dick got badly sick, well that nearly drove his brother round the bend. 

Gotham winters were notoriously awful for the youngsters of the city as illness spread through crowds and schools seeking them out ready to ruin their week. It was practically a right of passage for them to catch it at one point and everyone in Wayne Manor had succumbed to the seasonal sickness. Well everyone except Dick who Damian made sure to protect every time the cold rolled in. Unfortunately, you can't prevent sickness that easily and one day when Damian was hanging out with Jon, Dick decided to spend his day outside playing in the snow. "Pennyworth, did he go out in appropriate clothing?" Damian asked as Dick hovered around the older. He simply adored his older brother and it admittedly had the others in the household jealous. Considering all the love and support they gave to him only for him to gravitate towards someone so cold stung. Yet there was nothing they could do to change it now and they'd just have to deal with the knowledge that the teen would get a bigger welcome home than they would. Totally not a big deal. 

"He did Master Damian. You fear too much for him. He's perfectly healthy," Alfred assured him. Damian narrowed his gaze at the butler and pressed the back of his hand against the acrobat's forehead. Nothing noticeable yet. 

"Grayson I told you about going outside in this weather." The younger frowned.

"Might I remind you that you aren't the lad's father," Alfred commented. 

"I'm aware yet Father's absence is ever obvious and I'm naturally the best fit for the position."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is." There was a tense silence between them as they both stood their time but Dick didn't understand why. He never did understand. Those matters were beyond him and as emotionally smart as he was, he wasn't a master and the intensity between the pair was above his understanding. 

"Cuz you saved me! Tell me the story again Dami!" Dick exclaimed, jumping up and down with excitement. 

"Inside voices," both of them told him, breaking the silence. He stopped jumping and nodded, suddenly becoming very shy. He always did when he felt he'd been scolded. They wondered where he picked it up since he certainly didn't get it from his brother. They wished it would brush off on the problem child. "I have work to do."

"Oh." He tutted and pet Dick's hair with a performative reluctance which made the boy giggle. He was always able to see through the other's harsh front aside from a few brief times when the act was soo hard. It seemed he had an ability that his bat counterparts didn't have and that was emotional intelligence. Even so young he had it and Alfred hoped it would rub off on the others."Good luck with work Dami." 

"Thank you, Grayson. I'll see you at dinner."

When they sat down for dinner, Dick put his hand against the younger's forehead and frowned when he felt it was warmer than it had been before. He wondered how long the boy had played outside but rationalised the temperature rise with him naturally getting warmer from spending more time inside the Manor. Still, he made a mental note of the issue. He also noticed the younger was breathing a little heavier than usual but that might've been due to his tendency to run everywhere. He watched Dick carefully as they tucked into their evening meal and noticed he looked more and more tired as he ate which made him take pause because that's not Dick. Dick never got tired. He was an eternal ball of energy up till the point his head hit the pillow at night and even then he was restless. Damian narrowed his eyes. This wasn't right. "You don't have to eat it," Bruce commented, taking Dick's pause as a sign he wasn't hungry. This comment then derailed Damian's train of thought as he broke eye contact with Dick to glare at his father.

"No, he does," Damian argued. The older sighed and turned to the teen with a slight glare. He knew the other hated when he undermined him in front of the boy and it happened often. Usually, though, Damian was right. For example, one night Dick didn't want to go to a gala and Bruce insisted that he had to come. Damian went behind his back and got Alfred to agree that Dick shouldn't go. There was an attack whilst they were at the gala and if Dick had been there, he would've been in danger. Every time he was right, it was even harder to discipline the child that Bruce was supposed to be the father of. How could he make sure his point came across if someone was going to say it wasn't? It didn't help that Damian was somewhat of an idol to his youngest. 

"He doesn't. If he's not hungry then he's not hungry."

"You don't know that he's not hungry. He may just be pretending to not eat in order to avoid eating broccoli. You know how he doesn't like vegetables."

"He's already had a few bites."

"B," Dick called quietly. He punctuated his call with a small sniffle and a cough. Yet this didn't catch their attention.

"Father, he needs to eat more than a few bites. Must I really stress the importance of a healthy diet?"

"Dami," he tried with a whine only to be ignored again.

"I understand that but he can miss out on one night." They were going to continue like that, going back and forth with the same amount of stubbornness, neither noticing the younger beginning to sweat more than he had previously. They didn't see as he slowly slumped as his body decided his energy needed to be used for reasons other than keeping up a peppy attitude. It wasn't until Dick erupted into a coughing fit that they stopped arguing. Damian jumped out of his seat and over to his younger brother, putting his hand against the boy's brow and finding it was hot. Fever hot. He glanced to his mentor who nodded and fetched a thermometer, bringing Alfred with him when he returned with the device. He didn't get the chance to use it though as Dick gestured he was going to be sick and there was a mad rush to get him to a bathroom. 

They awkwardly waited outside the bathroom with the door open as Dick threw up the small amount of food he had. They weren't exactly sure how to deal with him since Bruce only knew how to deal with a preteen and Damian didn't know how to deal with anyone. Alfred was busy getting some water too so they couldn't get a second opinion. "I knew he shouldn't have played out in the snow," Damian grumbled as he tried to block out the sound of hacking in the bathroom. 

"Now that I think about it, that Josh did look off," Bruce mused aloud. 

"You let him play with a sick child?" the younger exclaimed. "We know Gotham has flu and pneumonia outbreaks every winter and you let him play with other children, an infected child no less?"

"He needs friends Damian. I didn't think much of it because today was the only time he's actually got on with other kids," Bruce told him. They both fell silent at that comment. They tried playdates with those within the gala scene but none had truly worked out. Either someone accused Dick of stealing something so they could get some attention, they only wanted him there to hopefully get in on marriage in the future or the kids just didn't understand him. He took it all on the chin of course and he pretended like it didn't get to him but they knew better than that. He didn't have friends his age and that couldn't be good for his development. It could only get worse as he went through school. 

"B," a weary voice cried. Bruce rushed into the bathroom, his heart breaking in two at the sight of the trembling boy kneeling by the toilet. He looked exhausted and tears rimmed his eyes as he coughed harshly. 

"Oh chum," was all Bruce could say. He knelt beside him and rubbed circles on his back as he entered another coughing fit. This had all come on so quickly but then again that was children for you. One minute they were running around causing trouble the next they were as sick as a dog. It was hell to see and his mind was already working through all the horrible things this could be. Dick whimpered as his coughing finally stopped and seemingly by magic, Alfred appeared with a much-needed glass of water. He helped the younger hold it and after he drank it, put a thermometer in his mouth. He waited a few moments then took it out with a frown.

"Master Dick, you've got quite the fever," he commented.

"But 'm cold!" the child groaned.

"Should we call Leslie?" the billionaire asked worriedly. He didn't know much about kids but a high fever whilst they thought they were freezing couldn't mean anything good. 

"Best off, sir," Alfred replied. 

"Leslie?" Dick repeated with a sniffle. "She's gonna come over?" They couldn't tell if he was distressed or if he was making sure what the plans were so the older nodded. "Gonna get sick?" 

"No, no, she's a doctor Dickie. She'll help you feel better. I'm sure she won't get sick," Bruce explained. The boy nodded and clicked his tongue - a rather annoying habit he'd picked up from Damian - making a face at the taste in his mouth. They figured he was done spewing his guts up so next on the agenda was getting him to his room. The bathroom floor couldn't be too comfortable.

Bruce scooped up the little acrobat and carried him to his bedroom with Damian close behind him whilst Alfred got a hold of Leslie and fetched another cup of water. He knew Dick would prefer juice but he needed as much water as he could if he wanted to shake this virus. Whatever it was. There was more coughing fits on their journey down the hall and when the boy was finally put in bed, he looked completely wiped out. His eyes were half-lidded and he was taking a lot of laboured breaths to try and recover from coughing his lungs up. Damian swiftly went into the ensuite and grabbed a flannel. He ran it under some cold water, wringing it out so it was damp rather than sopping wet, then returned to his little foster brother. He put the folded up flannel on Dick's forehead and was glad to find it had soothed him if only as a temporary solution. "Where'd you learn that?" Bruce asked, perching himself on the edge of the bed. 

"A memory from mother," Damian answered. "One of the rare moments she'd been truly maternal." 

"Ah. Right," the older muttered. He never knew what to say when it came to Talia. Luckily, Damian didn't like to talk about it so he didn't mind the silence it caused. "I suppose we'll have to take the night off," Bruce stated.

"But Batman," Dick protested. Dick was aware of their double lives as vigilantes. It was hard to hide it from him despite how young he was. He'd connected the dots when he realised that whenever they disappeared after walking into a room they had to have gone somewhere and after trial and error he'd gotten the hang of finding entrances. Nobody would believe him if he said his dad and brother were Batman and Robin so they didn't worry that much when they found him playing with the big dinosaur. They were more concerned with how he got up there. They had to admit it was much easier to have him play in the Batcave whilst they were working so they could keep an eye on him and they couldn't deny how adorable it was for him to name all the bats he saw. Their favourite being Mr Battington of the Battington fortune. 

"Batman can take a night off chum," Bruce assured him. He swept back some of the boy's curls then booped his nose, causing a crackly cackle. "And you're more important."

"To us," Damian clarified. "In the grand scheme of things, you're nothing more than a blip."

"Damian," the billionaire said in a scolding tone. 

"You're important to me too, Dami," Dick replied with a weak smile. Always able to see the positive side of things, that was the acrobat all over. "You gonna stay too?"

"I will, yes. Father is rather inexperienced and Pennyworth is frail with age. I'd best stay to ensure your return to health is not obstructed by such things." What the teenager meant was "of course, I'll stay with you Dickie, you're my little brother and I love you so much." The subtext seemed to be caught because that wonderful smile, although strained from the sickness, didn't falter. It did falter when another coughing fit erupted and it pained them to hear how long it went on. They tried to soothe him as much as they could but they were fairly clueless without Leslie's diagnosis. Once they had that, they hoped they'd be able to actually help.

When Leslie arrived, Dick was in a bad way. She frowned at his state but wiped that frown away before he could see. If she learnt anything from dealing with Dick it was that you don't let him know you're worried. It tended to stress him out and the last thing he needed was more stress. She went in with confidence and got to work. "How are you feeling, Dick?" she asked, bringing out a stethoscope. 

"Icky," he replied.

"When did the symptoms start?" 

"5 pm. I checked his forehead prior to dinner and there were beginnings of a fever," Damian replied helpfully. She hummed and asked Dick to sit up, putting her stethoscope on his back when he did and asking him to take a deep breath. After a few times of doing this, she let him lay back down but made sure he was at least a little elevated. She brought out a thermometer and put it in his mouth. She took it out after a few moments and read it with a shake of the head. 

"It's high and you'll need to keep an eye on it through the night. I suggest hourly since children tend to turn quickly."

"Talk about deja vu," Bruce mumbled, remembering a conversation like this when they first found Dick. He was ill from the conditions he'd been left in. He didn't like to ponder those memories very often thanks to how hard it was to hear such a little baby cry. At least now Dick could tell them what was wrong. "Do you know what he has?"

"It's winter and he seems to have caught the Gotham flu. The first few days are often the worst but it should mellow out. Has he thrown up at all?"

"A few times but they were close together. I think his dinner turned his stomach," Bruce explained. 

"Keep an eye on it. I'm going to check his oxygen levels and if I see nothing wrong then I'll give you something for the flu. If there is something wrong, we'll need to get him to a hospital." They nodded and waited anxiously as she went about her tests, praising Dick when they could for doing what she said. Eventually, she was satisfied that a hospital trip wasn't necessary but insisted on them being vigilant. "As for you Dick, you need to get plenty of rest and make sure you tell them if you're feeling worse. Keep hydrated and you'll be just fine." 

"Promise?" he asked, his voice sounding like he'd just swallowed gravel. 

"Promise."

Damian stayed with his sick foster brother as Bruce and Alfred talked about medication in the hallway with the doctor. He took the flannel from Dick's forehead and rewet it, noting that it had warmed up significantly due to the ferocious fever. He returned and swiftly seated himself beside the younger before placing the flannel. He flicked his eyes over to the door, noting that it was slightly open and he could see Leslie passing him a packet of pills. Dick wouldn't take those whole so he made a note to mention that. Bruce wouldn't know that. He didn't know a lot of things about their youngest. Despite his clear adoration for the boy, work usually cut into family time and they didn't talk much. He knew the basics but those things were mostly told to him. "B gone to work?" Dick mumbled.

"No, he's getting your medication." The younger nodded slowly. "You'll be okay Grayson. You've survived worse." After all, he had been a newborn found in a cold stairwell after days of being there. Surviving that was quite the feat. Damian liked to remind him of that. It showed how strong Dick was even if he hadn't been actively trying. It was impressive to him and he wanted the other to know that. It didn't hurt his ego either to tell the story of finding him since he'd been the one to rescue him. Bruce entered the room as Alfred led Leslie out and perched himself on the bed. 

"You need to take some medicine for me chum."

"He won't take those," Damian stated. "He doesn't take pills. You need to crush them up and put them in yoghurt." Bruce stared at him then looked over to Dick who confirmed it with a nod.

"How did you know that?"

"Alfred and I found it out when he had a migraine."

"Kids get migraines?"

"You truly are clueless."

"It's not my fault I don't know much about kids. I've never had one before," Bruce argued.

"You have far too much money to not spend some on parenting courses. I sent you that email for a reason." Before they could continue, Dick grabbed onto their clothes to get their attention. His bottom lip trembled and they guessed it had something to do with the fighting. "Apologies Grayson. Are you in need of comfort?" The boy nodded. Much to Bruce's surprise, Damian picked up the afflicted acrobat and sat him on his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and gently began to rock slowly. A small sigh of contentment left the younger's lips as he snuggled up closer to his older sibling.

"Since when did this happen?" Bruce asked.

"I read that children can benefit from physical affection such as hugs and are comforted by gentle rocking. Given that I want the best for our lineage, a childhood that provides him with adequate emotional stability is a must," Damian replied matter of factly. There was something about him that whispered he actually enjoyed comforting his younger brother but he wouldn't verbally state that. Appearance and all. Still, Dick looked comfortable in his arms so much so that he was fighting off sleep. He couldn't fight that battle for long though and soon he was fast asleep with crackly snores. 

"You're good with him," Bruce commented.

"I try to be. Mother did what she thought was best yet now I look back and see that it wasn't the best for me but rather the best for everyone else. I'd prefer to do the best for him."

"Is that why you undermine me?"

"Perhaps." There was a brief silence as let out a frustrated huff.  "You hardly make yourself available for him and part of me still resents the fact you tried to give him away when we first found him. Pennyworth and I wanted to keep him yet you needed convincing," he explained. Bruce nodded to himself. He supposed he hadn't exactly instilled the confidence in them that he'd be able to care for Dick properly. It had taken years for him to get used to the little things like making sure he brushed his teeth. Five years and he still wasn't much better at raising a kid. At least Dick seemed to be forgiving but he couldn't guarantee that for much longer. Kids grew up, they gained insight, and they realised they could question. 

"I understand your protectiveness but you're not his dad. I am. You're still growing up and it's not good for you to parent a child whilst you yourself are still one," he insisted. His protege simply hummed but he could tell it hadn't gotten into him. Maybe that was something he needed to focus on in the future. For now, though, they had a sick baby bird on their hands.