The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside Wayne Manor. You were curled on the couch like a disgruntled cat, wrapped in a blanket you swore you didn’t want but hadn’t given back either. Your nose was stuffy, your throat raw, and the fever burning your skin made every move sluggish.

But weakness? That wasn’t something you allowed anyone else to see.

Unfortunately, you’d forgotten where you lived.

“Alright, soup delivery incoming!” Dick’s voice rang out before he even entered the room. He appeared from the kitchen balancing a tray, a grin on his face that made your eye twitch. “One bowl of Alfred’s famous chicken noodle, extra broth, because somebody sounds like they swallowed gravel.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you croaked, glaring.

“Mmhm.” Dick set the tray down on the coffee table like he was dealing with a fussy toddler. “And I’m Batman.”

Jason sprawled in the recliner, arms crossed, boots still muddy from earlier. He looked you over with a wolfish grin. “Fine? You look like you got curb-stomped by a flu virus. Not a good look, kid.”

You shot him a death glare. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

“Not when there’s entertainment right here,” Jason smirked.

Before you could form a comeback, Tim padded in. He carried a bottle of water, thermometer, and tissues stacked like weapons in his arms. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, but apparently your health mattered more than his own. “Hydrate,” he said simply, setting the bottle next to the soup. “Or Alfred will make me responsible, and I’d rather not get scolded tonight.”

You groaned and flopped sideways on the couch. “Why are all of you so annoying?”

“Because you’re stubborn,” Tim replied without missing a beat. “And it’s contagious.”

A soft tt cut through the room. Damian entered, posture as rigid as ever, holding something tucked under his arm. He took one look at you, pale and shivering under the blanket, and scoffed. “You are pathetic in this state.”

“Thanks, Demon Spawn,” you muttered, too tired to lift your head.

“Do not misunderstand.” He dropped something on top of you—it was your comfort plush, the one you thought you’d hidden. “Only a fool ignores recovery. You will follow orders and rest.”

Heat crept up your face, not from fever this time. “You went in my room?”

“I confiscated what was necessary,” Damian said flatly.

Jason burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s golden. Demon brat brought you your teddy bear.”

“It’s not a teddy bear!” you snapped, snatching it closer anyway.

Dick hid a smile behind his hand. “Pretty sure that’s a win for Damian.”

Your head pounded. You wanted to bury yourself in the couch and disappear. “I don’t need all of this. You guys should just… go do literally anything else.”

But they didn’t leave. Instead, they closed ranks.

Jason tossed the tissue box into your lap. “Blow your nose before you suffocate on your own snot.”

Tim cracked open the water and pressed it into your hand, ignoring your attempt to shove it back. “Drink.”

Damian tightened the blanket around you with soldier-like precision. “Stay still. Thrashing will only worsen your fever.”