The worst thing about school, Bruce decided, was the illness that spread like wildfire across the student body. He decided this when Dick came home with a cold that turned into a particularly nasty flu because he'd neglected to tell Bruce he wasn't well until the end of the week and despite his intelligence, couldn't figure out how to open a childproof cap. He wanted to be mad with his ward but he simply couldn't be when he knew that he'd done the same before thinking he could last the night only to crash the day after. That and Dick looked so miserable curled up in bed fighting off a fever and wanting sleep but too uncomfortable to fall unconscious that anger was far from his mind. Bruce struggled to see it, so he simply avoided seeing it, instead focusing on work for both his day and night job. 

"I don't think you should leave tonight, sir," Alfred had urged him. Behind the words that he spoke calmly was a silent beg for him to sit with his child and anger that he wouldn't be there when Dick needed him. Whilst the butler had taken to the grandfather role, he didn't like how often he had to overstep the boundary of becoming the boy's father. He'd done his time raising Bruce and he didn't want to do all that again.

Bruce being Bruce told him that the city needed someone out there tonight and Dick wouldn't want something bad to happen because he was sick which was at least a little true. The acrobat would hate if people died unnecessarily and would sulk until he was combat-ready. Alfred just shook his head in disappointment and left him, presumably to help with the ailing child upstairs. For a moment, he thought about following him but then decided it wouldn't be of any help. He wasn't a person that comfort came to naturally and right now, he doubted Dick wanted to patiently wait for him to stop overthinking every reassuring word and soft touch.

One of the recent cases he was working on was a series of victims linked to cruel and unusual experiments. They were found near death and had been dumped in various abandoned places around the city. At first, they were passed off as the poor dying from their horrific living standards until an autopsy was performed on the ones that died and found a strange chemical coursing through their veins, mutating their cells. 

Police pointed to a bad batch of drugs but Batman knew that wasn't true. These patients didn't have track marks associated with drug use and not one person who knew them was aware of any drug use or odd behaviour associated with addiction. It felt too easy to write it off as something being cut with it to line drug dealer pockets.

One patient hung onto consciousness longer than the rest and mentioned the name of a doctor. Dr Row. This doctor had been banned from practising medicine after prescribing medicines unapproved by the FDA to patients without insurance, telling them that they'd get the same benefit without the hefty medical bill. It was a gross misuse of power that left both Batman and Robin feeling sick although Robin's sickness may have been related to his untreated cold looking back on it. 

Dr Row had dropped off the face of the earth after losing his job so it was Batman's job to find him. Tonight he intended to raid what he'd been told was a makeshift lab. He'd gotten the intel from a friend of one of those in the ICU. They said their friend had told them of a doctor who paid well if they participated in a drug trial that was yet to be approved. The doctor said it would be simple, just an hour of time every week where an IV was given and a small check-up. It was good money but even with that considered, they hadn't taken the opportunity due to being a single mother of two. If something bad happened, there was nowhere her children could go other than an orphanage.

The raid wasn't as he'd hoped. Whilst he found plenty of evidence to put Dr Row away, he hadn't found Dr Row. Before the police arrived, he made a copy of the doctor's files. He felt the parental guilt creep up on him when he realised this wasn't really worth leaving his ward sick at home. Of course, this would stop anyone else seeking money in exchange for being a guinea pig but it didn't stop it forever. Row could set up somewhere else in worse conditions and continue his work until he got found out again. This wasn't the breakthrough he wanted to justify leaving Dick with only Alfred to care for him instead of passing the tip along to Gordon. He sighed to himself and began to wonder how he was going to make this up to Dick when something began flashing on the computer.

A pop-up had been triggered and written in it was a set of coordinates. His heart sank to his stomach upon recognising them as the coordinates to Wayne Manor. It was a taunt although Batman had no idea if this was a taunt meant for him, the police or Bruce Wayne. He swallowed thickly and quickly tried to contact Alfred, seeing a handful of missed calls from his butler. He hoped he hadn't been too late.

"I really do wish you'd keep your phone on sir," Alfred snapped. "We have a rather pressing matter at hand."

"Where are you?"

"In your cave, unfortunately. A man broke in whilst I cleaned the console and I cannot risk revealing your identity to confront him. I've contacted the police and they're outside."

"Where's the man?" he hesitated to ask.

"He's in Master Dick's room. I'm sorry sir."

"It's alright Alfred. I'm in Dr Row's lab and he has our coordinates. Has he made any demands?"

"Not yet sir. He refuses to talk to the police who are currently ruining our garden with tire tracks. He... he wishes to speak to you." He took in a deep breath. Why did he have to leave? He should've known something would go wrong. "I suggest you make your way here hastily. I don't know what he's doing in that room and part of me wishes to never know."

"I'll be there soon Alfred. Hold tight and update me with anything." He hung up and rushed to his car to race home hoping he wasn't too late.

Seeing his front garden full of police was a sight that Batman would struggle to get rid of. He parked on his gravel driveway and made his way over to Commissioner Gordon who was holding a megaphone that didn't seem to be of much use.

"Batman, thank God you're here," Gordon greeted before thinking for a moment. "How do you know to come here?" 

"Found coordinations on Dr Row's computer. It led me here," he replied gruffly. "Hostages?" He knew there were but he couldn't act suspicious with police surrounding his house. 

"Bruce's ward, Dick Grayson and potentially Bruce Wayne and his butler Alfred Pennyworth. His car is still in the driveway but he works privately in his office so it could be that only the butler is in." He nodded and made a note to make up an excuse for where he was if he got pulled for a police interview. "Dr Row is in Dick's room, says he's holding the kid hostage and wants to talk to you." 

"Is he with Dick?"

"Says he is. Gave us a phone number to give you when you showed up." Gordon led him to the police phone and typed it in before handing it over to him. There were three rings before it was picked up. 

In the window, Dr Row sat on the alcove with a phone pressed to his ear and looked around the crowd before his eyes landed on Batman. He grinned at him.

"Hello Batman," he greeted like greeting an old friend.

"Dr Row. Status on hostages?"

"I've only got one at the moment. No need to bring the old butler into it, I've barricaded the door so I doubt he's much of a threat even if he's somewhere within the manor." Batman grimaced. 

If it didn't mean revealing the Batcave's entrance, Alfred would've already been in there with a shotgun. They really needed to work on a quieter method of entering it. 

"I have Dick hooked up to an IV. This IV contains one of my more volatile concoctions. The one that has two people fighting for their lives in the ICU and has killed many more." He gestured behind him, presumably to his shoddy medical set-up. "Currently, he receives none of it. However, if you don't give me what I want then I will release it into his system and you'll have a very sick kid on your hands." 

Dick wouldn't survive. The people who had the mix of chemicals were on death's door and were in average physical condition, Dick was so tiny and young. He got wiped out by the flu. There may as well be a gun pressed against his temple. At least that would be quick. 

"I don't like hurting children. Especially one who's already been through enough," Dr Row explained. 

Batman tightened his grip on the phone. Knowing someone else was in his ward's room made him see red. He imagined the boy lost completely in sleep with his nose pressed against his stuffed elephant as it was the only thing that still smelled like home. 

Would he be awake or had he finally been graced with sleep? Did he know what was happening? Did he think Bruce left him there with no intention to come back or was caught up somewhere unaware of what was going on at home? If he was awake, would he be concocting a plan that utilised his Robin training or did he think better of it and decide to wait it out instead?

"I've given him a little something to keep him manageable. Had some medical records to look through and found he sleeps worse than a newborn with colic. This entire experience, if you do as I say, will be completely unknown to him. Perhaps this will be some strange dream he won't quite recall." 

"What are the demands?" Batman asked him, getting a laugh in return.

"Straight to the point, I like it. I want my chemicals. Some I suspect are being bagged up ready for a police evidence locker since you've made your way here and some I haven't had the joy of owning quite yet."

"Your experiments on the poor are not something I wish to see again," he replied. 

"I paid them quite well."

"You left them locked into bodies that can no longer support themselves and are degrading as we speak. That's not counting the ones who are dead."

"They were dying anyway, why do you think they wanted the money? There are plenty of companies that denied them financial aid yet out of the goodness of my heart, I gave them what they sought after in exchange for important medical work."

"What's he saying?" Gordon asked.

"He wants chemicals. Likely to continue experiments. I don't doubt he'll be asking for immunity along with it."

"And the hostages?"

"He's given Dick something to make him unconscious and connected him to an IV with his experimental medicine. Doesn't know where the butler is."

"Rules out storming the place. As soon as that shit hits the bloodstream it can be lethal but I can't hand over chemicals to a rogue doctor. Doubt he'll take the bait either," Gordon mumbled to himself. Both of them doubted that a negotiation team would do much good. They hardly succeeded at the best of times and this would be no different. They needed to get into the house without Row knowing which Batman knew how to do but he couldn't show that he did. People would get suspicious if he knew exactly how to enter the room without alerting Row. Although, secret identities didn't feel all that important right now. 

"It's a big house, there's a way in somewhere."

"I'm all for letting you handle this but it'll take seconds to release the IV. Even if you got into the place, the second you got into that room, Dick is done for." Gordon pinched his brow. "I can't take that risk without Bruce knowing. He has enough money to buy the PD thrice over. If we go ahead and you botch it, we're all out of a job and I can't guarantee the next Commissioner will take too well to having a man in a bat costume helping. No offence."

"None was taken," he grumbled back. "I'll call Robin. He does well planning these things. If I can't see a way in, he will."

"Trusting a middle schooler to deal with this?" Gordon asked sceptically. 

"He's smarter than most."

Obviously, he wasn't calling Robin but Gordon would only have more questions if he came up with a hero identity for Alfred on the spot. He walked away from the gathering of police and called his butler. 

"What's happening?"

"Dr Row has Dick linked to an IV. For now, it isn't doing anything but if his demands aren't met he will release the toxin."

"Well, we can't let that happen, can we?"

"I need a way into Dick's room that won't alert Dr Row."

"If you get onto the roof from the west side, you could enter through the chimney and drop into the fireplace in his room. You're lucky I put out the fire before cleaning. Speaking of, I think we're going to have to make a rule that you bring your plates back up after dinner. I found half my nice china and a new mould species on your desk." He rolled his eyes at the comment. Trust Alfred to still tell him off under dire circumstances. Although, he supposed that the reprimand was due to the butler trusting him to save his ward without a hitch. That brought some confidence.  "If you release a smoke bomb a few seconds before you enter, he'll likely be unable to deliver the medicine."

"I don't like the sound of likely." He wasn't sure how fast the reaction speed of the doctor would be and he didn't fancy checking it right now. It could only be a matter of seconds either way before he was too late and poison was coursing through Dick's veins. 

"Does he know where I am?" Alfred asked.

"No. He doesn't intend to find out either."

"It's a big house, I could be anywhere."

"Got a plan?"

"The makings of one. Though, I don't think you'll enjoy my means."

"Keep it non-lethal and I'll be over the moon."

"You're lucky I'm an excellent shot, sir."

"Don't get blood everywhere."

"I wouldn't dare to. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of those sheets?" Despite himself, he smirked at the question. 

"I can enter through the chimney, make some noise as a distraction for you to get the upper hand."

Although Bruce didn't like to have guns in the house, there were a few pieces that were too sentimental to let go. 

His father's shotgun only saw the light of day when going clay pigeons shooting in the early hours of a weekend morning. He remembered being too small to handle it properly and the one time he shot it, his shoulder ached for a week thanks to the kickback. It sat over the fireplace nowadays, protected from dust by Alfred. It'd been there for years now. He doubted that it could work without a proper cleaning beforehand and even then, it wouldn't be nearly as good as when it was regularly used.

Two were heirlooms, he'd forgotten their exact origins but he was sure that they'd been passed down for far too long for him to auction off. They sat in the attic inside vintage guncases. He didn't know where to display them and forgot about them until Dick asked what was inside the cases. He promptly moved them to somewhere higher up but he was far too aware that if Dick wanted to get up there, he'd find a way.

The last belonged to Alfred. An M1911A1 was inside a safe within Alfred's room. Even Bruce didn't know the safe code but it wouldn't take much effort to crack in a pinch. It remained loaded at all times since the butler never knew when he'd have to use it and he'd been lucky enough to not have to in the last few years. Bruce tried multiple times to convince him that the manor was safe and if there ever was a home invasion, he could escape to the cave and use it as a makeshift panic room. Alfred would say "I told you so" were the circumstances not so drastic. 

Alfred carefully made his way out of the cave, taking the stairs in case the elevator made noise at the worst time. He crept out from behind the fireplace and made his way down the hall to his bedroom located on the ground floor. Bruce once suggested that he moved upstairs given the abundance of rooms but he refused. He'd lived in that room for years now and it was entirely his own. He would go mad trying to get comfortable in the rooms he'd spent many hours meticulously perfecting for non-existent guests.

He unlocked the safe and grabbed the gun, checking that he was still loaded and being thankful that it was. He then clicked the safety off and left his room, heading to Dick's bedroom. He made sure to avoid every creaky step in the pitch black of the house using only his memory and navigated the hall using the same method. 

When he got a few feet from the door, he checked his watch. One minute. He stepped a little closer and stopped with his hand on the doorknob but not turning it. Inside, the room was quiet. Not even the mutterings of a mad doctor hellbent on getting his way even at the cost of his medical licence. He wasn't sure if that made this all the more terrifying. Whilst Dr Row's views were extreme, he seemed to remain rational and calculating. There was no excuse of an altered mind or state to fall back on. He was simply a man who didn't care who got hurt in the process of getting what he wanted.

Alfred's eyes remained trained on the minute hand of his wristwatch. Every second that passed he wished more and more that Bruce had just stayed in tonight. Perhaps they would've caught Row earlier so he had no time to set up his equipment let alone run an IV line. He supposed he had some part in this. He'd decided to clean the cave when a sick child was upstairs, not noticing someone had broken in until it was too late. 

The minute hand finally landed and he turned the doorknob with his gun drawn. He only had seconds to survey the room. It seemed that Dr Row had either heard the dark knight ascend to the rooftop or had been watching the cops down below closely enough to follow their eyeliner and come to the conclusion his ransom wasn't going to be met any time soon. He stood by the IV bag with his hand wrapped around the volume control set, ready to let the poison go. The doctor had slightly turned his head to the door after hearing the click of the lock. It appeared he hadn't thought that the door to a child's bedroom would have a lock that could be opened on the outside. Clearly he wasn't a father to a child who had to become a vigilante otherwise he'd kill himself trying.

With precision that was required for any mercenary worth his rate, he shot Dr Row in the hand holding the volume control set. The doctor was sent reeling back with a scream as he clutched his broken appendage. If Alfred had made sure to maim his hand in the process, he wouldn't admit to it. A doctor needed their hands to work after all. He may as well be the one to put the final nail in the coffin of his career.

The room was swiftly filled with both soot and a smoke bomb delivered by Batman who then dropped from the chimney and climbed out of the fireplace to grab Dr Row and drag him to the floor. He snatched whatever forgotten shirt Dick had thrown off when he was getting changed for bed and wrapped it around the wound now spurting blood across the room. He held his arms behind his back before securing them with cuffs and stood up. The vigilante delivered a swift kick to Dr Row's stomach on the way and went to the window, giving the cops the all clear to enter. He watched for a moment as they all rushed into the house.

"You best be leaving," Alfred advised.

"What the fuck?" Dick muttered, his voice thick with sleep after being awoken in the tussle. He glanced around the room, taking in what he could with a mind muddled by a fog of sleep medication and sickness. 

"We'll explain later. I've got to go."

"Is that a finger on my bed?"

"One of them at least," Alfred commented.

Bruce made a convincing exit before returning. He had to quickly change into his suit after an event and he'd left his suit in the back seat which he was now thankful for even if Alfred would look down on leaving an expensive three-piece to crumple up in a car. He parked the Batmobile on a street corner, setting a timer before it would drive itself back then walked a short distance and hailed a taxi. He returned to the manor with faux shock and made a convincing act of being a horrified parent as Gordon explained what he already knew.

"Was Dick hurt?" he asked, already knowing that if he had been, Alfred would be halfway to the hospital right now.

"Butler explained he'd been sick beforehand. The paramedics checked him out but seems the only problem he has is the flu. Batman made sure nothing entered his system and we'll keep the unregistered firearm between us."

"I'm so sorry, I've told him before about it. I'll have the paperwork done by Monday but you can understand that I'll need some time with my ward after this," he replied. He would be having words with Alfred later. 

"Of course. Victim support is always available although I suspect you'll have your own therapists for that." Wrong but he nodded anyway. "We tried to get a hold of you."

"I was in a meeting with overseas investors. My secretary is still new so she didn't want to interrupt it."

"I thought as much. Well, we'll be taking our leave. We'll contact you for the court proceedings since your butler is a key witness and your ward may be interviewed even if he wasn't awake for most of it."

"I'll be happy to help." The commissioner nodded and joined the rest of his force, leaving Bruce to re-enter his home through the more traditional route of the front door. He went straight upstairs where he found Alfred already stripping the sheets to replace them. "Alfred, can we have a minute?"

"Alright, but I intend on cleaning this room. I know he lost two fingers and I've only found one." He winced. Yeah, Dick wasn't going to be sleeping here tonight.

Once alone, Bruce sat beside his ward who still looked like he'd only just woken up. His hair stuck out at odd angles and his nose was beat red from the flu he was still suffering through. 

"How're you feeling, chum?" he asked. It was different dealing with the vigilante regular in the comfort of your home. He could admit that it'd shaken him up a bit to know somewhere he found safety could be infiltrated through no fault of his own at any time. He dreaded to think what would've happened if he'd been late to the scene or never thought to check in on Row at all. 

"Fine," Dick answered quietly. He had a bunch of tissues in his hand and rubbed at his nose harshly. 

"You don't seem fine." The boy shrugged. "Did Alfred catch you up?" He nodded. 

"I was sick," Dick said slowly. "You went to raid Dr Row's lab but he broke in here so Alfred shot him and you got him." He stared at Bruce. "You left and I was sick. You didn't even say you were leaving."

"I know," Bruce replied, his voice thick with regret. He doubted he would've had the leverage had he stayed home but that didn't make his guilt any easier to swallow. Fathers were meant to be there for their kids when they were vulnerable and it was good that Batman had saved him but it wasn't Bruce. Bruce hadn't sat with his kid, hadn't been there to stand between him and Dr Row. 

"You're so busy saving people, it's like I only matter when I'm in danger," the boy muttered. He sighed to himself. He was only a child and yet he looked so old in that moment. Bruce wondered how long he'd looked that way before anyone noticed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated. "Let's just forget it happened." He waited for a beat to seemingly push all his emotions somewhere Bruce could only hope to reach one day. "Thanks for saving me. How's Row?"

"He'll live. Paramedics were seeing to him in the back of the police van and Alfred's a great shot. He won't die before he sees justice." Dick nodded thoughtfully. "We don't have to forget this happened-"

"I don't care what you want. I want to forget it happened." 

"Right, of course." It was weird to be told off by a kid but he felt firmly put in his place. He sank into his seat a little from being scolded. "Are- are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, the medically induced coma did wonders for my flu," he drawled sarcastically, sniffing for added effect. His throat sounded wrecked too. He was probably due for another round of cold medicine.

"Sorry."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"No."

"Are you sure? You seemed busy enough to leave me the first time."

"I thought we were forgetting that." Dick smirked a little at his attempt at humour, too mad to give him a full chuckle.

"I'm still bitter."

"Anything I can do?"

"Hot chocolate. Not the one Alfred makes, the one you make."

"Why not Alfred's?"

"He doesn't like giving me too much sugar before bed. I don't think you've ever measured anything in your life aside from making smoke bombs," the acrobat teased. "And I want a story. Not a classic, I want a kid's book: Roahl Dahl or something. Then you stay until I'm really asleep and a little bit after that."

"I better get to work gathering supplies. It'll be a tough mission but I think I can pull it off."

"You better! My life depends on it." He went quiet for a moment. "Do I have to sleep in here?"

"You'll be lucky to sleep on your own before you hit fifteen after this."