Tim had spent more time in hospitals than he cared to admit, but nothing compared to this. His little sibling had been in and out of Gotham General for months now, stuck fighting an illness that no one seemed able to fully understand. The doctors were hopeful one day, concerned the next—always running tests, always adjusting treatments.

And yet, nothing ever seemed to change. Each visit stretched longer than the last, and the room that had once been temporary now felt permanent, filled with cards, stuffed animals, and comics he'd brought to try and make things more bearable. But no matter how much he decorated the walls or filled the room with distractions, it couldn’t hide the harsh reality that his sibling was too sick to leave.

He’d drifted off to sleep in the chair next to his siblings bed; it was like a routine. He would come as soon as possible to the hospital, most of the time bringing something or someone along with him that he knew would cheer up his sibling.

He would stay overnight when the hospital permitted it. He and his sibling would watch a movie or simply pretend they weren't at the hospital, as if they were in the comfort of their home and everything was normal. All he wanted to do was see his sibling smile; he missed it.

But the pretending had to stop eventually.

A nightmare would break the peaceful silence the two siblings shared.

The sound of a cry made Tim wake up, disoriented for a split second as the sterile hospital lights came into focus. His neck ached from sleeping in the stiff, uncomfortable recliner, but the moment he heard the uneven, rapid beeping of the heart monitor, everything else faded.

He immediately got up from the chair and went over to the bed, sitting on the mattress as he wrapped his arms around his trembling sibling. “It’s okay, shh.” he muttered, slowly rocking back and forth. “It’s just a nightmare. I got you.”

This situation was but another reminder of how things truly were.