sorry guys i forgot it was saturday

When the fever broke the morning after, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief that they didn't have to watch it climb any higher or pay a trip to the hospital. Dick was still somewhat out of it given that it'd only just broken and not gone away completely but he was more so himself. Just more giggly. Sometimes more melancholy but they didn't stick around to see those moments. It made them feel awkward, as though it should be dealt with in private and he hadn't quite realised they were standing a moment away. Other than that, he was on the mend. Well, on the mend in terms of physical health. 

Alfred made his favourite soup for breakfast, sitting beside the young man as he spoon-fed him the first real meal he'd had since first passing out in the gym. Everything else he'd only managed a bite of so the butler made it his personal goal to put some fat back on his bones even if he'd barely gone a day without food. 

"Alfie?" Dick whispered. The acrobat was doing his best to keep his eyes open and not fall asleep even if he was desperately craving the rest. There was something slightly off about his gaze, either he wasn't looking like he was understanding the shape in front of him or he was in pain from the infection still lingering. "Is the fire on?"

"No sir, you're just quite sick," the butler replied. His voice was even despite his worry. Had Dick been more aware of what was going on then he would've picked up on the poorly veiled concern still on the man's face as he continued to spoon-feed him. "Your mind is still addled from the fever so you often forget that. You always did become forgetful when you were sick. I recall one time you swam two meters before remembering you were supposed to be on bed rest for a torn ligament and a cold." In the acrobat's defence, it had been Bruce's idea to send him to swim practice thinking it would be a good physio. He placed the bowl on the bedside table before swiping away the sweaty bangs that clung to Dick's forehead. "You did a good job, Master Dick. Looking after your family was quite the job on its own, let alone everything else on top of that. I'm ashamed to say that I allowed you to take on so much of my responsibilities due to my own grief and it was a rather easy way for me to manage my emotions in my own time. I was supposed to look after you and instead, I allowed you to run yourself into the ground."

"M not nine anymore." Alfred hummed because that wasn't true for him. Of course, he can see the wonderful man laying in bed in front of him but there'd always be some of that nine-year-old boy he met that day years ago in those blue eyes especially when Dick was sick. Something about the vulnerability made him unbelievably young no matter his actual age. Maybe it was Alfred's own age that made him see a child in place of a man in his twenties or maybe that's just the view all parental figures have on those they saw growing up. "Sorry I got sick. When I'm better I'll take over again."

"You've done enough." Dick shook his head, determination burning in his eyes but there was something behind that determination. It was dark and terrifying to experience but he'd seen it enough times in Bruce's own eyes to recognise it. That dark hole of never doing and never being enough. There would never be an end to it. It was like a bottomless pit that no matter what you throw in, would still be just as empty as when you started.

"Haven't."

"You've done plenty, sir. More than you should as a person who is grieving themselves."

"I've mourned my dad a lot." That he had but Alfred knew the gravity of it never wore off and it was only a matter of time before he realised. He needed to slow down for him to truly comprehend what happened. The butler suspected that from the moment they heard Bruce was gone, it was the moment Dick decided to throw himself into something to keep him distracted. Granted that wasn't the only reason he was looking after his family but that was part of it. "Miss him." A small smile graced his features although it was slightly tilted and loopy. "He would've sucked at looking after me."

"He would have," Alfred replied, smiling to himself.

"It would've been nice but also not." The older nodded along. "Alfie?"

"Yes?"

"Am I doing okay? With them? With this?"

"You're doing better than anyone else could. Now get some rest."

They had to commend Dick on staying in bed for a further three days before he made his first attempt to escape the confines of his room. Of course, to keep him in there someone needed to be at his side to keep him entertained and fill up his self-proclaimed hug meter. He only made it to the stairs before Damian apprehended him and hounded him back to his room with the help of Titus. Although he was out of the danger zone with his fever, he was still sick and weak from fighting the infection. He couldn't go about wandering around the halls when he could very well pass out at any minute. 

"But I'm fine!" the older had whined, disregarding the fact he couldn't stand up straight because of how it pulled on his stitches.

"You'll bring your fever back up," Damian huffed. "You're not to leave your room until we're sure your infection has cleared."

"What's the difference between my infection clearing in my room and it clearing somewhere else?" 

"It's clearing in here where you can remain in bed and we know where you are." He huffed and got back into bed, pouting as though he was a small child.

"So now you care about my stupid health," he muttered under his breath. It was surprisingly hurtful to hear and left the teenager stunned with a painful tug on his heart. He'd gone through some introspection over the past few days but there was something sobering about hearing it from Dick when his mind was clear from a high fever. His breakdown in the gym had been telling and him saying it now without anything impairing his train of thought felt like the final nail in the coffin. "Can't you at least get my computer so I can do work?"

"You only just got back to talking in full coherent sentences. I wouldn't push your luck with investigating from your bed," he replied, slowly recovering from the unexpected blow.

"I can't sit here all day doing nothing," Dick argued. "Either you can get it or I will when you leave."

"You can barely keep your eyes open."

"I know my own limits."

"Do you?" He hadn't meant for it to be inflammatory but like most things he hadn't meant to be provoking, it had come out like that. A darkness overtook the older's features and there was a flicker of that temper which had ruled his youth. 

"Don't fucking start," Dick snapped. "Just get my computer. It's the least you can do." Damn. That was a bit harsh. He backed out of the room and returned later with a laptop, passive-aggressively tossing it onto the bed. He got an equally passive-aggressive thanks in return. He decided to let it go.

By dinner, Dick was fine again and with Alfred's permission, they brought him down to sit at the table. The butler made one of his favourite meals that hopefully wouldn't churn his stomach and put extra effort into the presentation of it. 

"Thanks, Alfie, I appreciate it," he said.

"It's the least I could do for you, sir. If you can manage it, I'll bring dessert. We'll have to see how this one settles." The acrobat grinned cheekily, making it very clear he was going to have the dessert even if it didn't settle right. What could he say? He had a killer sweet tooth. 

"Any word from Babs on the case?" Dick asked. He'd been mostly kept in the dark with any progress on leftover cases and he wasn't even halfway through what he'd abandoned thanks to being sick. His siblings didn't say anything at first, cautiously looking to Alfred for permission. He rolled his eyes at their trepidation. "Guys, I'm an adult. Just tell me how the cases are doing."

"They're only checking. We don't want to cause you further distress." He rolled his eyes again and started pushing around his food on his plate, making it evident their care wasn't being perceived as such. "Tell him."

"She's gonna bring him down tomorrow night so I'll be helping her there," Tim answered. "She felt bad for handing off her work to you by the way."

"She didn't find it very hard to give it out," he mumbled under his breath. "Did you guys follow up on any of my cases?" They shook their heads and he seemed pleased with that. "I'm guessing I'm benched until my side stops looking like the beginning of zombification so I'd appreciate it if you could take on my urgent ones. I've got five that just need a bust-up so you could share it out amongst yourselves?"

"We're already pretty busy," Steph pointed out. "We've all been set behind because we had staggered patrols thanks to you being sick." That temper that Damian had briefly dealt with flared up again, his blue eyes now closer to a raging sea in a storm rather than a calm lake. 

"Oh I'm sorry, it's not like for the last few months I've been taking on all of your workloads."

"Dick-"

"No, no, you're right. I'll handle it myself," he interrupted. "Just cover me when I sneak out." He winked with a smile, successfully giving them all whiplash with the tone shift. That only continued when he turned to Duke with a warm smile and all previous hints of being pissed off completely out the window. "Oh Duke, don't forget to pack your stuff for home ec tomorrow."

"Thanks, it slipped my mind. Did you remember your antibiotics?"

"Alfred has me covered with all the pill stuff. Can't really be trusted after getting like this. I was thinking when I'm better you and I could go on our own patrol. I wanna see if your moves are as good as you say. Plus, I've got a major gang to take down back in Bludhaven so it'll be new ground." Duke lit up at the suggestion. He hadn't had a good gang case in ages, all of his stuff had been murders and - as horrible as it is that someone died - it got boring after a while. Not to mention he'd be working with Nightwing. There was bound to be some wisdom shared that he could take on whether it be about life or which cafe had the best affordable coffee.

"That'd be awesome!"

"You guys can hold the fort round here for that right? Or would that be too much work?"

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Jason grumbled. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answered cheerily. "I'd just hate for any of you to take on too much." They'd expected something melancholy and depressing to come out of Dick being sick but it was something much worse. They made him angry and he was going to make it their problem. Well, Duke was getting the pass. Lucky bastard.

After receiving little jabs here and there every time they spent time with Dick, the family were getting sick of it. No one knew if they were going to have dinner with their loveable big brother or someone who rivalled the pettiness of a cheerleader who'd never been told no. 

"Are you mad at us?" Tim finally asked. Dick had a temper, everyone was aware of that and he could be a downright bastard when he felt like tearing someone a new one because he was so torn up inside but they couldn't think why he was so mad at them. That was a lie. They did know that he had plenty of reasons to be mad, especially after keeping his anger in check for so long for their benefit but they didn't know why he was going with this route. He'd been ill so that usually brought up some fun and funky self-worth issues, he probably wasn't processing his grief all that amazingly previously so who knows what stage he was at now and he'd been looking after a group of traumatised people who really proved the phrase "hurt people hurt people" was right. There was more than that not to mention the host of older more unresolved issues just waiting for him to have a breakdown over. However, despite the plethora of reasons, they couldn't figure out which one had been the final straw. 

"No, I'm just busy," Dick lied, continuing his report write-up. Anyone who looked over his shoulder would find that he wasn't writing anything meaningful. In fact, he was just highlighting random sentences without making any notes on why exactly he was highlighting them. Maybe he thought they'd leave him alone if he looked like he was doing something but they could all see his screen.

"But you're not," Steph pointed out. She went to sit beside him, Cass following after her to sit on the other side of him to successfully block him into a sibling sandwich. Jason and Tim took up the couch facing opposite him since Damian had snatched up the loveseat. Duke decided he had nothing to do with the situation so he took refuge with Alfred in the kitchen, waiting for it to all blow over. "We know you're mad."

"Then why do you have to ask huh?" he responded.

"Because you're a bitch when you're mad and won't tell us that you're mad," Jason huffed. "I for one would like to enjoy breakfast without your backhanded comments so why don't you tell us what's annoying you?" Dick stifled a laugh and closed the laptop, placing it on the coffee table with an expression none of them could truly understand. He looked like he was dying to laugh but also dying for the room to suddenly light on fire and kill everyone inside. 

"Don't like the taste of your own medicine then?"

"This is how we made you feel?" Steph asked. He thought over his words carefully, debating between continuing with his petty routine or making an attempt to explain why he was mad in the first place despite the answer being completely obvious. 

"I might be being a little over the top about it but yeah. If any of you were mad, I was the one who knew about it the most and had to be your punching bag when there were perfectly good criminals to beat up to get it out. It's like you had no idea everything I was doing and to be honest, I don't think even I knew how much I was giving into this," he explained. He couldn't put all the blame on his siblings for not noticing their poor behaviour sooner. Maybe he should've called it out more or reminded them he was doing a lot for them already but something always stopped him. Even so, he knew they weren't that un-self-aware. 

"You explained it pretty well in the gym," Tim reminded him but all he got was a blank stare. "Do you remember what you said in the gym?" He shook his head. "That's worrying but you told us about needing to keep this family together and how bad you felt. Duke also made it obvious that you were burning out."

"And you're still wondering why I'm mad?"

"We didn't want to assume," Damian explained. The acrobat let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm all over the place so I guess you're right not to," he admitted. "Got a lot of things to be mad about and my brain still feels fried from the fever. I mean, you all save people on a daily basis and you never once noticed I was going to shit? That's frustrating but it's not the only thing. There's how things ended with Bruce where he never apologized for what he did that I'm being reminded of. I'm mad I'm not contributing now even though I'm in this situation from contributing too much."

"And Duke is getting the special treatment because he noticed what happened with you?" Steph asked.

"What? No. I felt like I've hardly spent time with the kid since I was so busy making sure those three don't murder one another," he explained, pointing to Tim, Jason and Damian. "Plus, have you seen him? He's adorable and deserves the world. The least I can do is give him a few pointers here and there."

"I don't?" Cass asked playfully.

"You cup-checked me right after I came back from a child murder case," he deadpanned but he did so with an equally as playful grin. In all fairness, she didn't know it was a child murder case. She thought it was a regular one which would make her actions much more appropriate in their minds. "Point is, I'm mad about a lot of things and Duke is probably benefiting from that in a weird way."

"How do we make you not mad at us then?" Jason asked, receiving a disappointed look.

"You guys really need it spelling out huh?" the acrobat commented. "I'm overwhelmed and stressed out, you can help by not calling me a circus freak because I didn't get the right Cheerios or letting me take a break here and there. Let me have twenty minutes where nobody goes near me. I'm a social guy but sometimes I wanna run my head through a wall."

"We can do that," Steph assured him confidently. "The giving you space part not the running your head through a wall part."

"We're done taking the back seat," Tim added. "When you're back to normal, we'll make sure things don't go back to that."

"Great. Now if you excuse me, I've got antibiotics to take. Turns out I'm on them for like two weeks. It clearly wasn't that bad if I bounced back in a few days but you know Leslie." They rolled their eyes at him. Only he could be on his deathbed and joke about it less than a week later. They should probably study his bounce back because it had to be some sort of medical marvel. Maybe that's why he was nicknamed the Boy Wonder in the first place.