That Kills People

fanficsandfeelings:

You woke up in bed alone. Not an unusual circumstance, to say the least, your boyfriend spent more time at his computer screen than in bed. Tim Drake was an odd one alright, nearly always on a coffee induced high, rarely ever caught sleeping.

So you got out of bed, hoping that you could maybe convince him to get at least an hours sleep. Not that you were particularly successful anytime you had tried that approach previously. Maybe if you got him on a full stomach you would have at least a little bit of a chance.

Eggs. bacon and pancakes would do just fine you decided. A nice, not so balanced breakfast to lure your sleep deprived boyfriend into bed. So you made a start on that and went to go get your boyfriend to feed him some real food because cheez-its don’t count.

“Tim, honey, I’m making breakfast, do you want some?” you asked, walking from the kitchen into Tim’s study, spotting your boyfriend hunched over a tablet.

“Oh my god Tim are you okay? What happened?” you rushed over to your boyfriend’s side, who was shaking like a chihuahua.

“Oh yeah, that, well you see, last night I was like so close to cracking this one case that’s been bugging me for some time now,” Tim said, all in in a rush, looking like he was going to explode if he didn’t get the words out fast enough. Not a good sign.

“Yeah, and?”

“Well I was super tired, so I went up to get some coffee, give me some energy, you know? Anyway, I decided you know what gives me energy, aside from coffee? Energy drinks! So, if I mixed the two of them together then I would have so much energy, enough to get ten cases solved.” Tim said, zooming through his explanation faster than The Flash can run.

“Oh god Time we need to get you to a hospital, you need to get your stomach pumped. What were you thinking? Do you want to get Caffeine poisoning? Because that’s how you get caffeine poisoning.” you berated him as you ran around, frantically gathering up your car keys and phone, dialing Bruce’s number to tell him what an utter idiot his son was.

“Woah, Woah Woah, why don’t you just take a deep breath, and calm down for a second, I’m Red Robin, I’ll be fine, I can handle-” his sentence was cut short by him vomiting in the trashcan next to his cluttered desk.”

“Gross. Car. Now,” you grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the door, still in your pajamas bottoms and one of Tim’s old t-shirts.

You texted Bruce to ask him to bring some spare clothes to the hospital while you were loading Tim into the car, with a bucket in case he got sick again. He did. Several times.

You met Bruce there, who had thankfully brought you new clothes and some basic toiletries. They rushed Tim in to get his stomach pumped immediately, the work of Bruce no doubt, you didn’t even have to check in. You changed while they prepped him and stayed with him while they pumped all the toxins from his body. They were keeping him in for observation, to make sure he was all okay. It was apparently the worst case of caffeine poisoning they had ever seen. Go figure.

His brothers showed up at around lunchtime, with burgers in hand, not that Tim was getting any. Which he complained about until you pointed out that if he’d just used his brain instead of doing stupid shit then he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. That shut him up fairly lively.

His brothers had taken pictures, to which Tim sulked. He asked if you were okay with that, to which you said of course you were, it was going to be your family Christmas card. They let him out by the end of the day, with a firm warning of no caffeine for three days and only one cup of coffee a day after that for at least the next month. Tim was outraged, you were delighted.

“So,” you said, kicking your shoes off as you entered your apartment, “what lesson has been learned today?”

“Don’t mix coffee with energy drinks, you’ll definitely regret it,” Tim sighed, rubbing his head and making his way towards the kitchen.

“What are you doing now?” you asked as you saw him pick up a notepad and red sharpie.

“Making a little reminder,” he said, ripping the piece of paper from the sketchpad and opening up the fridge, where he placed the note on top of the energy drinks.

“Note to self, that kills people. Do not do again.”

“Dramatic, but fitting,” you said, as Tim came over and sat down next to you with his arm slung over your shoulder, cuddling into each other while watching some old re-runs. Finally, maybe now he’d doze off.