Tim hated caring for sick people, a lot. But he liked you, so he powered through, and even tried to make you soup. It was a little burnt, but it's the thought that counts, right? He scoffed when pouring it into a bowl, then brought it to you in bed.

"You look like hell." He offered you a small smile and sat down on the foot of your bed, passing you the bowl of soup.

He moved a little further from you. Getting sick probably wouldn't track well with being Robin, especially if he was too bedridden to go on patrol.

"Feeling any better?"