Never Again, Don't Leave Me
Content warning: mentions of blood, swearing
(This is my first time writing fanfic so feedback is greatly appreciated.)
Five days.
That's how long it had been since Tim was admitted to the hospital. And Bernard didn't even find out until the second day. Through a news report. Not from Stephanie. Not from Dick Grayson. Not from Bruce Wayne. The fucking Channel 8 news.
'Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Admitted to Hospital After Sustaining Gunshot Wounds'
'Fuck. Not again.'
Darla bleeding out in the school nurse's office. Tim bleeding out on a ballroom floor.
'Please god not again.'
Bernard doesn't even remember how he got to the hospital, let alone leaving his apartment. His socks are soaked. Must've run there in the rain. Entering the hospital was a blur. A lot of pleading, yelling, screaming - most of it from him he thinks - and the same phrase repeated over and over again: "Family members only."
"Family members only."
"Family only."
"Family."
'I'M HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!'
So here he is. Day 4 of sleeping in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, nibbling on the shitty energy bar he got from the hospital vending machine. Bernard's honestly surprised they haven't kicked him out yet. Pity most likely. The nurse he yelled at on the first day keeps bringing him water when he's asleep. He really should apologize to her, she's just doing her job.
Right now he just feels numb. Stephanie's probably tried to call him, but he's pretty sure his phone is dead by now. Now he's just sitting, waiting for someone, anyone, to let him see Tim or at least let him know how he's doing.
'He's fine he's fine he's fine. They would've sent you home already if he was-'
"Bernard?"
He recognizes that voice, from Tim's video calls with his family. He's even heard it on TV a couple of times.
He turns to face Dick Grayson, eldest son of the Wayne clan and the brother Tim's closest to based on their weekly phone calls.
"Hey." Bernard's voice came out raspy and quiet. When was the last time he drank something?
"Hey," Dick said, moving to take a seat next to him. "How long have you been here?"
"What day is it?"
"Tuesday."
"Oh. Um" - he pinched the bridge of his nose - "since Saturday I guess."
Dick's face is weird. He seemed to be going through at least five different emotions at once, the most prominent being anger. Bernard really wished he was better at reading faces. Then he would have never made that dumb joke about Tim's dad abusing him back in high school, noticed how weird he was when the girl Robin appeared, or understand the emotion that crossed Tim's face whenever he had to cancel a date.
"Have you seen him yet," Dick asked softly.
"No," he responded bitterly, "'family only.'"
"Oh. And no one's-"
"No."
He heard a large exhale after that. Bernard didn't bother to remove his hands from his eyes after hearing the chair next to him scrape across the linoleum floor. Less than a minute later he heard Dick's sneakers squeak towards him.
"Come on," Dick said, holding his hand out, "they said we can see him now."
He takes his hand and doesn't let go until they get to Tim's room.
Stopping in front of the door Dick starts, "They said he's in a coma right now but he's stable. It shouldn't be very long until he wakes up."
Bernard knows those words should be comforting, but the fact that he didn't know that for almost a week just makes him angrier.
"You go first, okay?" Dick says, flashing him a small smile. "I'll be right out here."
He feels so fucking selfish. Dick is his brother and he's probably been worried sick about him. He deserves to see him a lot more than Bernard does. All he can say is, "okay."
Walking in he doesn't know what he expected, his boyfriend covered in blood? He looks peaceful like he's finally getting the eight hours of sleep Bernard keeps forcing him to get or when he falls asleep watching Blade Runner for the 700th time. He's pale, paler than his normal Gotham pale, but still looks peaceful. If it wasn't for the steady beeping of the heart monitor or the breathing apparatus strapped to his face, Bernard would've thought he walked in on one of Tim's random cat-naps. Rounding the bed, he takes a seat in the armchair next to the window. It's a lot more comfortable than the chairs outside.
For a while, he just sits and watches Tim breathe, his exhalations fogging up the oxygen mask every so often. He starts reaching for Tim's hand, wondering if he's allowed to touch him.
'Fuck it.'
Bernard grabs his hand like Tim's going to sink right through the pristine hospital sheets and he starts talking.
"Hey, Timmy. Yeah, I'm gonna call you that because you're asleep and you can't stop me. I just wanted to tell you that you better wake up soon or you're gonna miss all the fun things I got planned. They're holding another Jonathan Lord marathon soon. I know we missed the last one because you had an emergency. And Tweedle-D's is opening again. They're giving out complimentary milkshakes to Louis Grieve kids who come. I'm so close to getting my certification too, just a few more classes and we can go together. We can be totally disgusting and share one. Then there's that new amusement park opening up in Burnside. I know you said your last amusement park date didn't go well but hey, maybe we can try something new. And I can't wait to go to my first pride with you. I've never had the guts to go by myself, even after I figured out I wasn't straight. And I would really love to spend it with you. A day to hang out at the park, party with other people, and just be ourselves. Sounds super fun right? I just... I can't lose you... not like Darla or... or Laura - shit! Just... fuck. Please..."
'Don't leave me again.'
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