etrayalogs | ( closed ) bred, born, and raised to kick your ass

( damian had told bruce that he would stay where he wanted to regardless of what bruce had to say about it, and he'd meant it. which is why, while he would not say he is staying at the manor full time, he does stop by when he feels the need to take a few moments off from being robin. he takes off the tunic and the rest of his uniform, dons more comfortable clothing that he has left in his room, and wanders through empty hallways that aren't quite right even if they aren't wrong either.

when bruce finds his way back, damian has made himself comfortable just inside the foyer, sitting on the staircase leading to the second floor with a book in hand, a hoodie thrown over his head, and back leaning against the railing. his eyes are closed in what many may look at as sleeping, but damian is considering a micro-nap. he'll wake up the moment he hears a sound, acting as if he had never dozed off to begin with. )

( much like damian, he hasn't yet figured out where it is he wants to stay while he's here in this world. the apartments are more or less a no for him, so. that really just leaves what goes for wayne manor around here and, while he still doesn't entirely trust the place to not be bugged or watched by the ones in control here, it's the closest thing to familiar— closest thing to home that he has here.

that's why he's coming back here after his ordeal while being out. not in the batsuit for a change and, rather, dressed down in black slacks and a long sleeved black shirt over a black t-shirt. it's almost as if he truly is embracing the whole i am the night thing in every aspect he can. he's not in the batsuit, is the point, and when he slowly makes his way inside, he ends up shutting the door a little louder than he meant to. catches the sight of damian there on the stairs and slowly blinks.

at first glance, he seems tired. more than he typically is and his movements seem to be more slow and heavy. in hand, a bag. perhaps with snacks and energy drinks. )

What're you doing?

( the door opening is enough to get him to awaken. eyes open easily, leaving no evidence he had ever been asleep at all. damian stays in the same slouched position he had been, eyes on the page he had his book open onto before they slide up to look over to bruce himself.

there's the slightest evidence of a scowl on his face, turning down the corners of his lips and scrunching up the skin on the bridge of his nose. it's habitual more than anything else, and the expression stays in place as he looks over bruce. looks for signs of what may be causing that exhaustion and slowing him down. )

Reading.

( in case that wasn't clear. he lifts the book, high enough bruce can catch the title the boston stranglers before he lowers it back down and sets it on the step. climbs up to his feet. )

Where's your suit?

Where's yours?

( it's said with a raised albeit lazy look about him as he slowly makes his way from the door. a brief pause, he pinches the bridge of his nose. holds the bag out towards damian. )

Here.

( a beat. )

I thought... you might be hungry. Or thirsty.

( because he very much did grab some energy drinks and snacks from the convenience store this place has. there might even be a couple pre-packed sandwiches in there as well. you know. things alfred would click his tongue at for bruce passing off as an actual meal. )

Edited 2024-04-07 22:00 (UTC)

In my quarters, drying off.

( he does have to wash it every once in a while. damian only arrived with the one suit, and while he's sure he could have requested another, he had instead used his points to retrieve goliath. a much more worthy exchange.

bruce offers out the bag, and damian takes a few more steps closer to investigate it. leans in to look inside the offered bag. )

I told you I'm self-sufficient, didn't I? ( there's a small upward curl to his lips, barely noticeable. ) Energy drinks can cause heart complications, are terrible for your teeth, and negatively affect your kidneys and liver.

( he appreciates the attempt and will be taking the bag regardless. )

You shouldn't be having them either.

Don't be a nag.

( fingers let go of the bag, letting damian have it, steps slowly taking him further into the manor. towards the room that seems to belong to him— to bruce wayne. each step feels a little heavier. a little more sluggish than the last, though he assumes it's all in his head, considering how foggy it's feeling.

the thought of the scratch crosses his mind and it's why he pivots, slowly, to the closest bathroom instead. heel of his palm pressing to the doorframe of it before he's making his way inside and pulling out the first-aid kit. slowly and silently looking through it. )

( damian opens his mouth, to begin nagging, except bruce is already taking off in another direction and he looks--ill.

see what happens when you drink energy drinks and eat cheap snacks all the time, father? but it doesn't take long for him to recognize that it isn't malnutrition that's causing him to lean up against the walls and leaves him moving that slowly.

the bag of snacks gets set down on the floor as damian picks up speed to catch up to bruce. reaches a hand out towards him to help steady him. )

What did you get yourself into, Father?

( father. it catches him off guard to hear. to know that damian is referring to him when he says that and it takes him a second or two to really understand that. to recognize it, even. something he isn’t yet used to and wonders if he ever will.

he doesn’t bother to shake his head, feels it would only hinder him more in doing so. instead, eyes shut for a quick moment before he digs through the first-aid kit a little more. )

I’m fine. Just looking for some aspirin.

( because that’s what he needs to rid himself of this fog happening right now. that and maybe to lie down, but. popping a couple aspirin and calling it done is more likely with bruce wayne. )

( it's habitual: damian doesn't call his father by his name, he calls him by his title. he's father regardless of if he's in the cowl or not, has been for as long as damian can recall. bruce's pause, and subsequent shake of his head, make it even more clear that something's off. he watches for a few more moments while bruce digs his way through his first aid kit, brow furrowing. )

Sit down.

( an order, not a question. damian takes a few steps closer and reaches to try and guide him down onto the toilet lid. they could go elsewhere, but from how bruce is holding himself, damian is assuming he'd need help getting further, and getting him to lean on damian is going to be more of a struggle than it's worth. )

Are you injured?

( it's a little more difficult than he'd like to admit in trying to shrug damian off when he goes to guide him down, so. he just drops down to the toilet lid. a little harder than intended. sigh on his lips, skin growing flushed. blue eyes shut, an attempt to steel himself in the light-headed moment, he opens them after a moment and looks to damian. )

I need water.

( to drink something. )

Preferably with electrolytes in it.

( flushed, off-balance, and his eyes don't quite look right.

damian leans forward and presses his forehead against bruce's own for a moment. curses under his breath when he pulls back, because bruce feels warm. too warm. )

Flu, or infection?

( he's asking, but not waiting for an answer. doubts bruce would give it regardless. damian leaves the room, making his way down the long corridor to grab hold of one of the sports drinks he keeps in the closest open room. brings it back to the bathroom quickly and - holds it out after taking the lid off and setting it down on the counter. )

( while damian wanders off, bruce brings a hand up to feel his forehead, fingers carding through the strands of dark hair that have fallen there, and shuts his eyes as he tries to will away the throbbing expanding throughout his head.

he gets himself up. runs the water cold in the sink and brushes wet fingers across his face in an attempt to cool himself off, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he does. he can't really remember the last time he'd been sick, normally so good with seeing to it that his health is at its absolute best with vitamins, supplements, organic shots to drink and everything else. something is wrong for him to be taken out like this as he is and he hates that he can't just shake it off with sheer determination.

when damian returns, he reaches for the sports drink. takes a rather large gulp of it and sets it down. palms flat on the counter as he hunches over some, taking a couple breaths for himself. )

I'm fine I just... need a moment.

( to try and get his shit together. )

You have a fever, you are not fine.

( he raised the hospital earlier, there are sedatives downstairs, it wouldn't be difficult for damian to get his hands on them and force bruce into resting. except that would almost certainly negatively reflect on the trust they've been building, even if they both know it's for bruce's own good. damian could call todd over to do it, it's not as if jason would care.

doesn't just yet, even if the temptation is difficult to ignore. instead, damian makes sure he's still blocking the exit. )

Infection or virus? Do not make me ask a third time.

( the look he swings damian's way is one that border annoyed, but. that could simply be due to his feeling the way he is.

huff on his lips, he turns. leans himself against the edge of the vanity there. then slowly peels off his long-sleeved shirt that wears a tear in it on the arm. dropped away, he's left in the t-shirt and, with arms exposed now, he looks to the two angry red-beaded lines scratched across his bicep. )

Cat scratched me.

( the irony he doesn't even know yet with those words. )

Didn't really think anything of it. The only thing that's happened since I started feeling this way.

( wow, it's almost as if this hasn't happened with the woman bruce has been engaged to for - long enough back home, numerous times. damian gets the irony immediately, he just chooses not to comment on it.

and instead gives bruce a look very similar to the one he'd thrown his way: annoyed, irritated, getting just that much closer to being done with his nonsense. )

You do realize the companion robots have been carrying antibiotic ointments developed specifically to treat these kinds of scratches, yes? And have been insisting on treating anyone who may have been scratched?

( damian trusts them about as far as he can throw them, but when one starts experiencing symptoms that they had already described. . . well. )

And you'd be so willing to trust them, would you?

( it's said with a huff, bruce looking down to the first-aid kit again as he goes about finding the antiseptic in there along with some bandages. funny how he's needing those again. just for scratches instead of a stab wound this time. )

I trust nothing unless given adequate reason to.

( a bruce wayne with a fever high enough damian can feel it, and who's falling over himself, is enough of a reason to at least investigate what they're offering. his father's going to hurt himself, if he keeps this up. damian sighs; the kind of exhausted, offput sound one would have likely anticipated coming more from bruce than damian, and reaches for the first-aid kit. )

Sit down. If you give yourself a concussion falling onto your face I'll call in Goliath to ensure you don't have brain damage, and you're not going to like that.

( why is ~~his~~ this kid so sassy? where on earth does he get it from?

he knows he should. knows that damian's logic is sound, but. bruce is as stubborn as they come— willing to push himself until his body physically gives out on him and, even then, he'd find a way to keep going until passing out. granted, he's not looking to go to that extreme here, so he heaves a sigh and grabs for the sports drink he'd been brought. )

I need to lie down.

( preferably in his bed and not on the bathroom floor. )

Even better.

( easier than knocking him out and dragging him across the floor, which. damian would have done, if necessary. but his father is a little difficult to drag, given he's at least twice damian's size.

since he's opted to cooperate, damian waits until bruce has picked up his drink, then - shoves himself under bruce's arm, wrapping it around his shoulders so he can assist in keeping him steady on the way to the bed. )

( the assistance is a little unexpected and it shows in the way he looks down to damian. he's about to say something — about to shrug off the help, but. refrains from doing so. partly because of how his head currently is and partly because he's not in the mood to argue right now. if he can just lay down... maybe sleep this off...

steps are slow and steady as they make their way to the room which he's "taken" for himself. the room that seems to be for bruce wayne within the manor. the suit is there, set aside, along with a duffel bag that's left on the floor. not much else is there that's his, what with the manor having been made from the bots. that thought alone is still... strange... to him.

the moment he reaches the bed, he gently presses a hand down to it, capped sports drink in the other, and lets his eyes fall shut. his skin remains flushed. sweat beginning to build around his temples and the nape of his neck and he's certainly looked better. )

I'm fine.

( this isn't the first, nor will it be the last time damian has carried batman on his shoulders. or pulled him along, at least. damian might be small but he's strong, and this is nothing - especially given bruce is managing not to fall onto his face and is holding up most of his weight. he drops down onto the bed, and damian slowly releases his hold. watches bruce's eyes fall shut, and notices the sweat that signals the fever's more worrisome than originally thought. he'll go chase down one of the first-aid-carrying companion bots as soon as he's gotten bruce completely down. )

Father, ( voice even, dry, because, well, ) you said, and I quote, "I died a long time ago". You haven't been fine in years. You'll get better and worse with age.

( it makes sense to damian which is all that really matters. )

Lay down. I'll find the antibiotics.

( it takes him a moment to properly lay himself down on the bed. for his head to gently hit the pillow and his muscles to slowly release the tension they'd been carrying the walk over, but. once he does, he feels as if he might drift off right then and there. as if his body craves it in a way he hasn't felt for some time.

eyes fall shut, strands of hair falling in front of his face some. he hears damian's words and they cause him to slowly open his eyes again. fighting against the call of sleep. )

I need to know what this is. ( words soft. lazy. but still somehow firm in a very bruce way. ) Create a vaccine in case this becomes a habitual problem here.

I'll get a blood sample first.

( if he rolled his eyes any harder they'd fall right out of his face. luckily for both of them, it's not actually physically possible, even if one almost wonders with how far damian pushes it. bruce is down, so damian turns around on his heels and heads out. considers calling in drake or todd to play babysitter, but figures - he doubts they've introduced themselves yet, there's no need to up the dramatics at play here.

and if bruce manages to roll himself out of bed, he's not going very far. if he cracks his head open on the ground, that's his fault.

it doesn't take long to don the robin uniform and let himself out of the manor. the travel time from the manor to the hospital grounds is less lengthy, considering damian first calls for goliath's help, and the dragon bat's flight and larger stature is very useful in getting him places quickly. which means there's no time at all before damian's returning - first with a stop to the cave to drop off a sample of the antibiotics and gather a needle and vacutainer. damian chooses to let himself back into the manor using the inner hidden doorways instead of the outer ones, so bruce doesn't receive a window visitor, but instead, one who walks through the door like a normal person.

but a normal person likely wouldn't stop beside someone trying to rest in bed and immediately reach for the needle they have in hand, carefully aiming for a vein to do as he'd promised. )

( he drifts off while damian's out. loses track of time and how long it's been since he's fallen into bed. he needs the rest. he knows his body does to fight off whatever infection has managed to infiltrate his system. as much as he hates admitting defeat, he can't help but sink into sleep. for however long that might be.

the sensation of the needle there at his arm wakes him, but not with a start. he's unable to, given the fever and how tired he feels. with the gentle fluttering of blue eyes, his head lolls there on the pillow and he stares to damian through half-lidded eyes. the fever seems to be worse, given how much more flushed his skin appears against the black clothing that's damp from sweat. )

How long were you gone?

( how long has he been out? )

Fourty-seven minutes.

( bruce isn't doing well at all. the blood comes first, given he knows well how his father will complain later if damian doesn't get it. damian would do the same, had he been in bruce's position. once the vacutainer is filled, he pulls the needle out. raises the tube, to show bruce that damian has done as he had asked before he's setting it down beside the bed and instead grabbing onto the small tube of antibiotic cream to open it up and start spreading it over the scratches on his arm.

they need alfred. bruce is clearly too young to be trusted on his own. )

( bruce ) cat scratch.

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