Archive of Our Own ^beta

Nothing good ever happens at the docks after midnight. 

Tim knew this fact. He knew it all too well. So when Batman sent him, Spoiler, and Nightwing to the docks at Port Adams for a potential drug deal involving Two-Face, Tim should’ve known it wouldn’t end well. 

“I don’t think Two-Face is even here!” he called, busting a dude’s kneecap with his bo-staff.

Nightwing did a somersault over two henchmen and banged their heads together. “These are definitely his men though. Guess he didn’t think this deal was worth showing up personally.”

Spoiler snorted. “What a diva.” 

“Let’s just finish up here so we can go home,” Tim huffed.

“Agreed.”

Only five of the men were still standing at this point. The three Bats were making quick work of the stragglers, combining strikes to take down each goon with extreme prejudice. 

"You know, there's a great Chinese restaurant down the street," Spoiler began. She delivered a swift kick to a henchman's side. "Let's grab some takeout on the way back."

"Definitely. I'm starving," Nightwing concurred. "Red?"

"I'm always down for Chinese," Tim agreed. He had one of the last goons backed up against the wall. 

The goon dropped his gun and threw his hands up in surrender. "All right, I give up!"

Tim snorted and reached for his handcuffs. "Smart guy."

Suddenly, the goon reached into his coat pocket. He yanked out a ziploc bag full of a powdered white substance. 

"If I'm goin' to jail, I'm gettin' one last trip!"

Tim reached out to stop him, but it was too late. He violently ripped open the bag over their heads, causing the substance to explode in a cloud over them both. The goon eagerly tried to snort as much of the powder as possible while Tim immediately covered his face and turned away, coughing violently and wiping at his face. 

Spoiler rushed in and knocked the goon to the ground. "What the hell is that stuff?" she demanded.

The goon smiled, his tongue running across his lips in attempt to collect any remaining powder. "Just a lil' Special K, Dollface. Want some? I'm sure there's enough left in my mouth to get ya high. I'd be happy to share. All ya gotta do is take off that mask and show me your pretty face."

"Ugh, don't make me gag," she growled. 

Nightwing came running up to them as soon as he was finished tying up the other henchmen. He threw his rebreather on then placed both of his hands on Tim's shoulders.

"Red, you with me?" he asked. 

Tim, who had finally finished coughing, looked up at his brother. “Y-yeah."

"How much did you breathe in?"

"Enough," Tim huffed. He couldn't feel the effects of the ketamine yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. "I should probably head back."

Nightwing nodded and brought his hand up to his comm. "Batman, we need an evac for Red Robin ASAP."

"ETA with Batmobile three minutes. What happened?" Batman growled. 

"He snorted a bunch of ketamine," Spoiler replied, unsuccessfully holding back a snicker. 

Tim winced. He was so never gonna hear the end of this one. "I did not snort it. The guy ripped open a huge bag right in front of my face, and I accidentally breathed some in."

"Damn, Replacement, you were supposed to stop the drug bust. Not sample the merchandise!" Red Hood chastised. 

"We can't be sure how much got in his system or exactly what it is. Guy said it was ketamine, but who knows what it may be mixed with," Nightwing pointed out. "He needs a ride back to the Cave so he can be monitored. I'll collect a sample as well for analysis."

"Nightwing is right," Batman rumbled. "I'll call Agent A and have the Doctor on standby. Red Hood, head to Port Adams and help Nightwing and Spoiler finish up." 

"Roger that. ETA five minutes. Better keep an eye on Mr. Druggie, N. I give him ten, fifteen minutes tops before he's trippin' balls."

"I hate you," Tim groaned. 

"Just stay put, Red Robin," Batman ordered. "I'll be there soon."

With that, the Batman hung up.

Stephanie shoved the offending goon into the pile of his unconscious comrades. "Soooo I guess no Chinese, then? Unless, do you get the munchies with ketamine?"                                                                                                      

Tim threw a batarang at her. 

By the time they made it back to the Cave, Tim was definitely feeling the effects of the ketamine. Bruce jumped out of the drivers seat to help his son out of the Batmobile, but Tim's knees immediately buckled upon standing. 

"Bruss... I can't use m' legs. I think they're gone," Tim slurred, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. Bruce sighed and scooped the boy up into his arms. Tim didn't protest but instead lolled his head against his father's armored chest. Bruce might've thought it was sweet, had his son not been drugged to kingdom come. 

Alfred, who had been patiently waiting for them to arrive, stepped forward. "Ah, Master Timothy, I can assure you that your lower extremities are still present and in perfect condition. Even so, let's get you into bed, shall we?"

Tim just blinked at the butler in response. 

Once in the med bay, Alfred helped Bruce strip Tim of his suit. Tim moaned a couple of times, but he didn't put up a fight. Quite the opposite, actually. It was as if the boy had overcooked noodles for limbs. 

"His heart rate and blood pressure are slightly elevated, but thus far nothing too serious," Alfred reported as he got Tim hooked up to the monitors. They had left Tim in his undershirt and leggings and successfully gotten him settled into one of the beds in the med bay. 

"I don' have a body anymore," Tim mumbled. "It floated away." 

Bruce pulled up a chair to Tim's bedside. "You're gonna be okay, kiddo. We just gotta ride this out."

"Master Timothy, I am going to draw some blood so we can see how much ketamine is in your system," Alfred explained, setting up the side table with IV supplies. "I also believe it wise to start intravenous fluids."

"Good thinking, Alfred. What did Leslie say when you spoke with her?"

"She said the worst of it should be over after an hour or two. Until then, we are to monitor his respiratory efforts and cardiovascular status for signs of overdose. After obtaining IV access, I will need to analyze his blood along with the sample Master Dick obtained to ensure there are no surprises. I shall remain in earshot should you need anything."

"Of course," Bruce nodded. "I'll stay here with Tim."

"I know who you are," Tim said, his voice quiet. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

Tim nodded. "You're Batman. I figured it out."

"Yes, you did," he replied, glancing down at the giant bat symbol across his chest. "You're a very smart boy."

Alfred, holding an IV needle, placed a hand on Tim's arm. "Just a small poke here, Master Timothy," he warned. 

Bruce half-expected Tim to fight the butler, but he didn't. Instead, he just stared, unblinking, at his arm as Alfred slid the IV in. "It's bleeding," he said finally. 

Alfred smiled slyly. "Astute observation, Master Timothy. That was my goal, remember? I'm going to take some blood for testing and begin intravenous fluids."

Tim wrinkled his nose. "But I'm not thirsty."

Bruce placed a hand on his son's knee. "We're just being careful, Tim. We want to make sure you have a good IV in case you need medicine." 

"Fine."

Once Alfred finished hooking Tim up to fluids, he stepped out to take the samples to the lab. Bruce continued watching Tim like a hawk. So far, he seemed to be having normal symptoms of ketamine inhalation. Nothing too worrisome, now that he was safe inside the med bay under close observation. According to the research Bruce had done on the specific drug dealers, there hadn't been any unusual deaths or accidental overdoses among their buyers. Hopefully, that meant they didn't cut their supply with anything dangerous. 

Tim remained pretty out of it for the next half-hour. Bruce asked him questions every once in a while to make sure he didn't become too sedated, but the answers he received were far from coherent.

At some point, Alfred came in and told Bruce that the samples indicated nothing too worrisome. The substance was mostly ketamine with a few non-harmful additives, and Tim's blood levels were low enough that overdose was extremely unlikely. Still, Bruce refused to leave his son's side. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something. 

"How's our little delinquent?"

Bruce looked up to see Jason and Stephanie standing in the doorway. They had both changed out of their uniforms for the night.

"The samples didn't show anything we didn't expect," Bruce replied. "The drug dealers?" 

"Rounded up by GCPD for processing," Stephanie replied. She pulled a chair on the other side of Tim and propped her feet up on the end of his bed. "Hi, Tim! Are you totally tripping right now or what?" 

Tim looked at her through hazy eyes and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Trip-ping?"

"Man, he is zonked," Jason snorted. "Hey, Timmy, how do you really feel about everyone in the family?"

"I can't feel anything," Tim replied, his eyes drifting up towards the ceiling.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jason, cut it out, please. Where are the others?"

"There was a bank robbery on 5th. Dick took Damian and Cass and told us to head back here," Stephanie explained. 

Bruce nodded. A part of him wanted to contact Oracle and get information on the robbery to see if they needed him. But he knew that Dick wouldn't have sent Jason and Stephanie back unless he knew he wouldn't need them. Plus, he was still reluctant to leave Tim. His son was in such a vulnerable position, after all.  

"Ya got a bucket close by, right? My mom went through a ketamine phase, and she puked almost every time." Jason warned. 

"Hey, my mom went through a ketamine phase, too!" Stephanie exclaimed.

She and Jason high-fived. 

Bruce groaned internally but reached over and grabbed a basin off the counter anyway. Just in case.

Tim started throwing up an hour later. 

Thankfully, Bruce had sensed the change in Tim's demeanor and had shoved the basin underneath his face before he could make a mess of himself. 

"Told ya," Jason said with a slight wince. 

"Shouldn't he be starting to come down now? I thought ketamine wore off relatively fast," Stephanie pointed out. 

Bruce frowned. Leslie had said the worst of it would be over in one or two hours. But Tim's condition seemed to be getting worse. 

"Stephanie, call Leslie and put it on speaker. Jason, go grab Alfred. It could very well be nothing, but I want to make sure we aren’t missing anything,” Bruce ordered. He sat on the edge of Tim's bed and rubbed his son's back. "Tim, can you hear me?"

"I feel weird," Tim panted in between gags, his face flushed. "Bad weird."

"Bruce?" Leslie's voiced came over Stephanie's phone. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," Bruce admitted. "He just started throwing up out of nowhere. It's been over two hours since he was exposed. Shouldn't he be getting over it by now?"

"Ketamine effects can last hours," Leslie explained, "and it can certainly cause nausea at any point in time. Even at the end of the high. How is his breathing?”

Bruce watched Tim's chest for a minute. "He's breathing pretty fast, but his breaths are deep and his oxygen sats are fine.”

“Okay, then hopefully he’s just coming down roughly. We’ll continue to monitor him closely and –”

Suddenly, Stephanie jumped up. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "Leslie, remember that case study I showed you a few months ago? The one I had to analyze for class?"

"Of course," Leslie confirmed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Good thinking, Stephanie. Bruce, I need you to check Tim's blood sugar immediately."

A sinking feeling hit Bruce's stomach. "His blood sugar?"

"There have been cases where using recreational ketamine has been linked to sudden and severe diabetic ketoacidosis," Stephanie explained. “It’s not common, but it’s definitely something we should rule out since he started throwing up.”

Bruce reached into one of nearby the drawers where they kept some of Tim's diabetic supplies. He grabbed a lancet and the glucometer. "Tim, I'm going to prick your finger now, okay?"

Tim just threw up in response. 

Once the drop of blood was applied, the screen on the glucometer lit up and blinked a few times before a number appeared on the screen.

 "It's 396," Bruce replied, his voice grim. He couldn't believe he had been so careless as to not think about how the ketamine could affect Tim's diabetes. They silenced most of the alarms built into Tim's continuous glucose monitor while they were out in the field to prevent anything going off at the wrong time, but he still should've thought to check it when they got back to the Cave. 

"Okay, so it's high, but it could be a lot worse. Where’s Alfred?" Leslie asked.

"Right here, Dr. Thompkins," the butler replied. He and Jason had just reentered the room when Bruce read off Tim's blood sugar. 

"Good. I need you to collect a blood gas and check for acidosis and ketones. We also need to get a second IV put in and start a 10 ml/kg normal saline bolus over an hour. I should be there by the time that's done, but just in case, if he's in DKA, add an insulin drip at 0.1/units/kg and D10 fluids. I'll head that way now, but let me know if anything changes."

"Of course, Dr. Thompkins. I will draw the blood sample immediately."

"I can do the second IV and start the saline bolus, Alfred," Stephanie offered when Leslie hung up.

Alfred nodded. "Very good, Miss Stephanie. I will go fetch the appropriate sampling supplies."

Bruce stayed by Tim's side as Alfred and Stephanie got to work. They gave Tim some nausea medicine, which thankfully helped reduce the frequency of his vomiting. He was still very disoriented and confused, but Bruce couldn't tell if it was the ketamine or probable DKA. Probably a mixture of both.

An hour later, Leslie showed up just as the saline bolus finished. Alfred confirmed that Tim was indeed in DKA based on his blood results, so the doctor wasted no time in starting an insulin drip. 

"It's a good thing we caught this when we did," she said. "It could've been much worse. At this rate, we should have him transitioned out of DKA within the next few hours."

Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief. Tim was going to be okay. 

"We'll have to be sure to tell Timmy to lay off the party drugs from now on," Jason huffed. He was sitting in the corner with his arms crossed. Like Bruce, he'd refused to leave Tim's side until he was more stable.

Leslie hummed in agreement. “I’m just glad you remembered that case study, Steph. Who knows how severe it would’ve gotten had it taken us longer to figure it out.”

Bruce glanced over at his son. Now that his stomach has calmed down, Tim had finally been able to pass out. He was pale, and his hair was matted with sweat, but the heart monitor showed his vitals were steady. “Yes, thank you, Stephanie. You’ve done great work tonight,” he added. 

Stephanie beamed at the praise. “I’m glad I could help.”

Tim groaned as he slowly woke up. His head was pounding. 

“Tim? Are you awake, kiddo?”

Bruce’s voice gave Tim the motivation he needed to open his eyes. He immediately recognized the med bay in the Cave. His father was in a chair by his bed, looking tired and a bit disheveled.  

Bruce placed a hand on his son’s arm. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Tim slowly pushed himself up in bed, which caused him to notice that he had an IV placed in both of his arms. “Like trash, honestly. What happened?”

“What do remember last?”

Tim furrowed his brows as he thought for a moment. Based on the clock in his room, it was a little after 10:00 in the morning. “The last thing I remember is the mission briefing. You were gonna send Dick, Steph, and me down to the docks to stop a drug deal. After that, it’s all a blur.”

Bruce nodded. “Leslie said your memory would be fuzzy. You all stopped the drug deal, but during the battle, you were forced to inhale ketamine.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Ketamine? Seriously?”

“It wasn’t enough to cause an overdose, but you were pretty out of it,” Bruce continued. “To complicate matters, the ketamine sent you into DKA. Fortunately, Stephanie remembered reading that ketamine could cause DKA in diabetics, so we caught it relatively early. You transitioned out a couple of hours ago.”

“So you’re telling me I got high on ketamine last night and went into DKA because of it?” Tim asked, blinking slowly in confusion. 

Bruce chuckled lightly. “That about sums it up, yes.” 

“I didn’t do anything embarrassing while I was high, did I?”

“Define embarrassing.”

“Bruuuuce,” Tim whined. 

“Okay,” his father smirked. “I would say the damage isn’t irreparable.”

“I hate my life."