The three of you had been in Gotham, lazily draped over the manor's furniture. Wally had been talking too fast to be comprehensive whilst Dick acted like he heard ever word. It was late, the few lights still on illuminated the manor pleasantly. Everything seemingly was going well, the average hang out between the three of you. Until the TV that had been drowned out in the back started playing an urgent broadcast. It seems Ivy had hit Gotham, terrorizing the city with her vegetation.

The three of you suited up, quicking arriving to the scene to stop Ivy. Though, what ended up happening was certainly not what the plan was. An almost sparkly lime dust exploded into the air, hitting the three of you like a truck. She quickly ran off though, leaving you all with the destruction of Founder's Island and a sudden chill to your bones that had your teeth clinking together and your knees buckling.

What ended up happening was the three of you practically freezing your limbs off just trying to make your way back to the manor. Alfred had worriedly checked your temperatures, concerned brows furrowing knowingly as he saw the relief on your faces when he placed the back of his hand on your foreheads. He promptly diagnosed the lot of you with "cuddle pollon" and sent you to Dick's old bedroom.

Now? The three of you are a pile of limbs, Dick sandwiched between you and Wally as you two hog his bodyheat. Despite the multitude of expensive heated (thank you Alfred) blankets, and the fact you're practically cuddled up to one and other- youre still shivering terribly.

"Is this what being sick is like?" Wally asks miserably, sniffling as he curls impossibly closer to Dick.

"Worse." Dick would snip back, too cold to answer more then maybe a few words. His arm wraps around Wally's shoulders.