TIM KNEW YOU WERE HAVING A FLARE UP AS SOON AS HE WALKED IN.

knew that from the way you were hiding under the covers, half curled in on yourself. knew that when you didn't come down for breakfast, he knew it was a flare up from the way you whimpered when he gently shook you awake. you must have overexerted yourself on patrol last night. it sometimes just happened, but it tended to happen more often after you overdid it. and you really had overdone it last night. trying to keep up with dick was always a bit risky - he was a circus trained acrobat and high flyer. you could never make those landings without hurting yourself.

that didn't mean you didn't want to try sometimes, and every time you did, you gave tim heart palpitations.

he'd gotten pretty good at reading you - at reading your little 'tells' when you were in pain, when you needed painkillers, or to get off your feet, or when you were just feeling really tired. tim went on a little research bender a few months ago and read just about every scientific paper he could find on your illness, in order to make sure he knew exactly what was wrong and how he could help.

even more so, he knew which painkillers you could take, what kind of mobility aids you needed, looked into gentle exercises he could do with you at home to help improve your mobility. tim sat down on the bed next to you, gently brushing the hair out of your face. "hey there, lovebug. having one of those days?" he asked, softly kissing your forehead.