Bruce Wayne sat by Richard Grayson's bedside, and watched, concerned, as the young man shivered and his hands shook.
"Were you able to get in touch with the doctor who did this?"
"No, sir. It seems, that, after much research, that the pain medicine counter acts with his antianxiety meds."
"But, I need to call my lawyers."
"Can you call my family lawyers, Alfred? I need to have everything sent to them, as well."
Bruce, knowing that Alfred would do as needed, turned back to his son, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Taking a shaking hand in his, the man, also known as Batman, became a father, tending a sick child.
He ran a cool cloth over the flushed skin, and spoke softly about nothing in particular.
The shaking was getting worse, and Dick couldn't hold anything down, even the smallest amounts of water.
Four days of pure hell, four days of the spasms, shaking, and vomiting and finally, Dick was resting comfortably.
As Bruce went to meet with the lawyers down stairs, he heard a soft voice call him.
Turning, he saw a tired smile and a glimpse of the dark blue eyes, "Thanks, dad."