flashbossXD requested this

It's family quiz night someone pray for me I've fooled people into thinking I'm smart but I'm really not

When it came to getting sick, Dick was the worst. He didn't get sick often, either that or people didn't notice when he was sick, so it tended to hit him hard. That and he would never let himself rest so it got worse and worse. Something that would've been fairly minuscule turned into a full-on debilitating sickness that would take a while to recover from. What could he say? He took after his old man in the self-care department. Unlike Batman, Nightwing didn't have a partner in his city who could take on the workload. It was his own. On most days that was the best. On sick days that was the complete worst because he still had to work. Hence why his cold wasn't getting any better. Not only was he working himself to the bone but Bludhaven had graced him with the worst weather of the year. It hailed and snowed and stormed pretty much non stop for the last month which didn't help him. Unbeknownst to him, his cold had turned into something much worse.

That morning, Dick woke up feeling the worst he'd ever felt. He compared the experience to having the worst hangover combined with the side effects of breathing in too much chloroform. His mind felt fuzzy as though it was made of cotton wool. He forced himself to his feet but was forced back down by black dots scurrying around his vision. "You wanna not?" he muttered to himself. Talking to himself wouldn't help but he did it anyway. He glanced over at the time. "Did my alarm not go off?" he whispered. Two hours late? Hm. He got up again and managed to evade the black dots this time. Dick trudged to the bathroom and hacked up his dinner from last night. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and spat out the vomit tainted spit in his mouth. He shuddered to himself. He hated being sick. Being sick today of all days was going to suck. He had to go on a mission with the younger Young Justice members. Team-building or something. He forgot the excuse he made to get in on the action. He dragged himself away from the toilet and looked at himself in the mirror. Sweating buckets and pale, not a good look but he could make it work. He opened the medicine cabinet and collected as many tablets as he could to help with his situation. The last thing he needed was to call in sick. He'd only just convinced everyone that he wasn't going simply to micromanage the team and he had to prove it today. Dick gulped down the handful of pills he had and stumbled back to the bedroom to get dressed.

A phone shrieked and made him wince. He snatched it up and answered before the terrible ringtone could continue. "Dick speaking?"

"Hey, is everything okay?" M'gann asked. "You're late."

"Sorry yeah, I'm fine. Had a late start. Be over there in five," he answered. He hoped his voice didn't sound too off from throwing his guts up. 

"Are you sure you're fine? You don't sound it and you never sleep through your alarm. If anything you're awake before it even goes off." Why did she have to ask so many questions? He strapped up his boots, ignoring the feeling in his gut, as he debated what he should answer with. If she knew he was sick she'd probably bench him for the next week. If she didn't know then when she did find out she'd kill him for being a bad influence. Saying that though, she didn't need to know the full of it. Then he could say he didn't know it was that bad. "Just got a little cold. Made me sleep in late."

"How bad is it? We can postpone-"

"It's fine. Nothing I haven't had before. See you in five." He hung up before she could ask anything more. Dick swallowed thickly as he did a few checks of his equipment. He hoped his bat training would kick in before he got there.

Something was off with Nightwing but no one said anything. During the mission, he'd disappear off somewhere then come back a few minutes later looking paler than a sheet of paper and some half-arsed excuse of hearing something odd that he had to check out. He seemed slower than he usually was but then again he was Nightwing and even he was allowed to have slow days. After all, he was running a team and a city at the same time. That would make anyone tired let alone him. Though there was a moment in the mission where he looked like he was going to vomit. He was tired, that was for certain, but they didn't think much more since he was still going. Still fighting. His balance was pretty much still there too. Offhandedly, one of them would ask if he was okay. He'd nod and give them a smile to reassure them but the smile never really reached his eyes like it normally did. By the end of the mission, Nightwing was visibly shaking and he was sweating much more than he ever had. He strapped himself in for a long ride and tried his best to look like he wasn't trying to nap off the migraine he'd been gifted after completing the mission. Wonder Girl bit her lip nervously before tapping Robin on his shoulder. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow only for her to direct his gaze to their leader. "Is he okay?" she asked. "I don't wanna sound rude or anything but he looks really sick. Like he should go to a doctor and have a week off school sick."

"He wouldn't have gone on the mission if he was that sick. Bats trains us to know our limits," Robin answered although he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry hit him. Nightwing was a fireball usually and they'd clearly missed that energy today. Even so, he might've just had a bad day. Impulse tutted dismissively at him. "What?" 

"He might train you that way but ol' Wing over there was probably trained differently. You're like third-generation Robin. He was first," the speedster explained. "Batman might've messed up with him and now he doesn't know his limits until he's gone too far past them." Robin had half a mind to listen to him. After all, he was from the future. Maybe there was some text that said that was the case. Then again this was Impulse. 

"Look, this is Nightwing. He knows his limits. Probably," Robin argued. "And if he doesn't then I would know. I'm family." They hummed at him which didn't do anything to assure him. Nightwing knew his limits, right?

After the mission, Nightwing had to give them a quick assessment of how they did. He liked to keep them short which came in handy today of all days. They lined up in front of him, waiting for their name to be called. Nightwing stood in front of them and struggled to stay awake, swaying a little. His whole body was shaking but he couldn't think why. It wasn't cold in the Mountain and he certainly didn't feel cold. He felt boiling hot. Was there lava running underneath this thing? No no he would've remembered that from when he was Robin. Or would he? "Nightwing?" M'gann called. He snapped his head up to look at her. "Their assessments," she prompted. 

"Oh yeah sorry. Thinking since you all did so well I couldn't find," he paused and swallowed thickly. That was way too close. The last thing he wanted was for a load of protege's to see him throw up nothing for the umpteenth thing. "Okay uh, Robin. You did..." Nightwing winced as a splitting headache cut him off. He held his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe he just needed a minute. Or twenty. An hour would feel good. "Robin your hacking has...has...oh shit." His body couldn't take it anymore. His eyes rolled back and his body crumpled to the floor. 

"Dick!" M'gann exclaimed, running to his side. She rolled him into the recovery position and shook his shoulder only to get a groan in response. The team gasped and took a step forward but only Robin had the guts to join M'gann beside their leader. "Dick? Can you hear me?" he asked. The older groaned but his eyes remained closed. 

"Bart, Jaime, get the medbay ready. Cassie try to contact Canary. La'gaan, help me and Robin get him to the medbay," M'gann ordered. They nodded and ran off in different directions. M'gann picked up the top half of Nightwing and La'gaan got the bottom part. Robin helped direct them to the medbay without whacking into anything. "How was he on the mission?" she asked. 

"Slow and he kept disappearing. He really wasn't himself," La'gaan responded. 

"I don't get it. You don't get to the point of passing out without knowing something is wrong. Why didn't he say anything?" Robin asked no one in particular. 

"Have you met him? The day he knows his limits is the day Batman retires."

They managed to get him to the medbay and made a start on connecting him to various machines when Black Canary appeared with Cassie. "What happened?" she asked, jumping in to make the process faster. 

"He mentioned being sick this morning but said it was a small cold. He collapsed a few minutes ago after coming back from a mission. They said he'd been slow and unlike himself," M'gann listed. Canary nodded and studied his heart monitor. Fast but not worrying yet. She glanced at his temperature. It was rising but they had time. "Anybody know if he's drunk or eaten anything?" They shook their heads. "Alright. Robin, M'gann, Jaime, you three stay. I want the rest of you out of here." Reluctantly the spare members left and she shut the door behind them. "What's Beetle saying?" she asked. 

"Uh, dehydration, flu. Really bad flu. Slow down for a second, would you? Oh shut up I'm not whining. Well, you would to-"

"Jaime focus."

"Right yeah sorry. He needs to rehydrate and something to help nausea so he doesn't get any weaker," he explained. M'gann nodded and began getting an IV set up.

"Thanks, now outta here. Did anyone contact Batman yet?" she asked. 

"Not yet," Robin responded. She hummed and told Jaime to contact him on his way out. She got a washcloth that sat by the sink and wet it with cold water before pressing it against the acrobat's forehead. 

"B?" Nightwing mumbled.

"It's Dinah. You collapsed but we're going to take good care of you. We think you have a bad case of the flu," she told him. "Try and get some rest, alright? We'll wake you up if we need you." He mumbled something in response but none of them could decipher it. 

When Dick woke up next, he felt like he'd been hit in the head fifty times then thrown into a lake of lava. He groaned unhappily and opened his eyes to see where the hell he was. He remembered coming back from the mission but the Mountain wasn't exactly the safe zone. Not since that Red attack years ago. Maybe he should see a therapist about that. He still had nightmares about it. "Dick, you awake?" a voice called. Kind of small. Light too. Tim. That was Tim's voice. He dragged his eyes to where he heard Tim and found him sitting beside the bed. 

"Hey Timbo," he greeted. His voice was hoarse and his speaking had angered his throat. 

"How are you feeling?" the younger asked.

"Icky. Where am I?"

"You're in the Mountain still. You collapsed when you were giving us our assessments. We're waiting on Bruce to pick you up and take you to the Manor since you're sick." Dick furrowed his eyebrows unhappily. He didn't want to go to the Manor. He wasn't even that sick. Okay maybe he collapsed but he was probably just tired. He tried to push himself up off the bed but he was pushed back down by his sibling. "You're not going anywhere. You've got a really bad fever and you haven't rested for nearly long enough." Although unhappy about it, Dick lay back down. He felt something wet pressed against his forehead which kept him occupied until Tim spoke again. "You should've said something."

"About what?"

"About feeling sick. What if we'd been captured on that mission and you were ill? Or what if you weren't able to keep it together and you punched when you should've dodged? What if-"

"I get the picture. You're starting to sound like B," Dick replied, a strained smile firmly placed on his face. 

"I'm not. If anyone is being like Bruce here, it's you. Didn't he train you to know your limits?" The smile went bitter for a moment and Tim found himself feeling bad for saying anything. 

"He trained me to get past them no matter what. I was the tester Tim, he made mistakes. What he taught me, he would never teach you," he explained. "Not to mention I always feel like I have something to prove." He winced at the headache coming back to greet him. Maybe it was telling him to shut up before saying too much. He closed his eyes to try and push the pain away. He could feel how weak he was since his pain tolerance was so low. A simple headache never felt this bad.

"Dick?" The older hummed in recognition. "You don't have to prove anything to me. So, if you feel bad again, at least let me know."

"Only if you do the same." He heard Tim let out an airy laugh.

"Alright. Get some sleep, we've still got an hour before we can get you to the Manor."

"Oki doki."