A/N: So I'm kind of nervous about this one, because the first chapter is kind of "strange", I suppose. However, I've been writing this thing since last year, so I might as well release it already.

This story follows Young Justice's timeline and takes place in the fall of 2017. Bart's a freshman in high school (and so is Jaime's sister, Milagro) Jaime's a senior, Cassie and Tim are juniors, and Dick's college-aged (but not actually in college).

(PLEASE READ THIS): I want people to enjoy this story. There are some stuff mentioned in it that could trigger and/or offend people. Now, I don't usually do this, but I'm going to put warnings for each chapter in a note in the beginning. You can choose whether or not you want to read them, but beware, the chapter warnings may contain spolier-ish stuff.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:

-heavily used profanity

-marijuana usage

-slight violence

-death threats


FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

Perhaps it was the loss of his father at a young age, or the alcoholic mother. Maybe a mix of both. Jaime just didn't know. Whatever happened, happened. Whatever happened fucked up his life.

At school, his dark hoodies would allow him to blend into the hallways, so that he could just move on and get to class, to not receive any attention or high-fives in the middle of the hallway from extreme extroverts, or be expected to partake in some sort of excited sports game chant that was going on.

Ah, he hated those kind of people. They were his absolute polar opposites. They would be the summer and the sunshine, meanwhile, Jaime would be the wintertime and the darkness.

Luckily for him, it was his last year of putting up with this shit. In the spring, he'd be graduated and moving on in life.

He just didn't know if he'd be moving onto better things.

Lazily slinging his textbooks at his side, he watched silently as he saw a group of people- of course, cheering and chanting about something. The person in the center of the attention was some skinny white dude with reddish-brown hair. He was the most summertime-sun out of the entire group of summertime-suns.

Oh, Jaime knew him. Not personally, but the kid always made himself well known. And holy fuck, was he annoying. Jaime knew of him before the stupid shit called high school happened. He knew of his existence before his life came tumbling down, way back when he was an innocent child not selling drugs on the street, back when his sister wasn't a full-on whore bringing home a different guys to fuck every weekend. He knew of him back when the most alcohol his mother consumed was a sip of champagne, back when his father wasn't lying down half-dead in a hospital bed on life support, not knowing which breath would be his last.

He knew of him.

The kid's name was Bart Allen, a goody-two shoes. A kid with a nearly perfect GPA, the good-looking track and cross-country star, the class clown, a guy who always had girls following and admiring him wherever he went, and not to mention his family had been apart of the town's police force for generations upon generations. The kid's grandfather was county chief, and his dad was county sheriff, too!

His life was perfect. His life was what Jaime always wanted. His life was everything Jaime didn't have.

And god damn, did he hate that Bart Allen because of it.

Once he arrived in class, he sat in the back- as usual, though not the complete back. One of his only two friends sat behind him. His name was Tim. Jaime met Tim in sixth grade, while Tim was in fifth grade. Tim had just moved in across the street, and being only about a year and a half apart in age, they got to know each other and clicked immediately. Tim's situation was similar to Jaime's- except Tim's mother died (from a car accident, not cancer, like Jaime's father) and his dad had a gambling problem, which eventually landed him in a foster home. Later in life, Tim and Jaime began to do things together that were not as innocent as playing ghost in the graveyard. No, they began to sell drugs. Few times have they got in trouble, but it was never so severe to the point that they were expelled or anything. Just a few legal fines here and there, plus a couple nights in jail- which was not crazy, according to the two of them.

"Hey." Tim greeted blandly, "I've got some news for you."

"What is it?" Jaime turned around.

"You know that Bart Allen kid?"

"Yeah. Just saw him in the hallway." Jaime informed.

"He came up to me this morning. He wants to buy some grass. He's offering thirty bucks a gram." Tim chuckled in amusement, "Thirty bucks a gram."

"You're kidding, right?" Jaime asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe. And I can't tell whether or not it's because he's a stupid freshman or he's trying to catch us. I mean, his dad's a cop." Tim pointed out.

"That's possible." Jaime acknowledged.

"The thing is though, I don't wanna bypass that opportunity of making a bunch of money. So I told him to meet me behind the old doctor's office where only eighty-year-olds go for heart medicine and shit. I'll be there with Cass. You should come, too. And bring your gun in case he tries anything funny." Tim suggested.

"You want me to shoot that kid? His entire fucking family is in the police force." Jaime pointed out.

"If you have to shoot him, yeah." Tim said.

Jaime sighed, "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"It'll be fine." Tim insisted.

Jaime didn't have a chance to respond, however, because class had already begun.

x

This would be Bart's first real party. So of course, he had to make the best of it. His friend Garfield had told him about Jaime, Tim, and Cassie, and their drug-selling partnership. Bart had heard a few words of them here and there, mostly tales and stories his dad Don would come home from work saying stuff about "the Drake and Reyes boys", how they were bad kids, and would warn Bart to stay far away from people like that. Bart had seen Jaime and his friends in the hallways a couple of times, and they always seemed so depressed. Sad. Dark. Something along the lines. Especially Jaime. Bart was pretty certain that Tim and Cassie were a couple; they had each other. And Jaime? Well, he had nobody. Bart knew better than to try and feel sympathy for people who chose to ruin their lives by running a pretty-much-mobile trap house, but he couldn't help it.

Their group sold anything ranging from weed to heroin. Though, Bart wasn't crazy like that. He was just going to buy a few grams of weed and leave. Garfield had just handed him a bit over a hundred bucks to buy some for the party he was throwing while his adult-sister Megan was away for the weekend. Garfield was too scared to go buy it off of them himself, and even when Bart offered to go with him, he declined. The rest of his friends didn't want to go with him either. With this, it just left Bart and the money given by Garfield.

"So do you have a plan to meet up with them?" Garfield asked as Bart packed up his things to go home that Friday afternoon, a group of curious friends standing behind him.

"Yeah. We're gonna behind by Old Oak Clinic at around five." Bart explained, "Got the money?"

Garfield nodded, handing his friend the cash. Bart slipped it into his pocket and got his backpack all the way on his back.

A couple of hours passed, though he didn't go home during those hours. He mostly spent the time wandering around the park near his house, or watching a family of ducks swim in the pond. When the time, came though, he walked nervously towards behind the building Tim told him to go to. He wasn't exactly scared of the drug dealers that he was about to face, rather than what would happen if his dad found out what he was doing. All of those warnings from his dad to stay away from these kind of people- these particular people, he knew that if he got caught, he'd get in very large trouble. He knew what he was doing was wrong and dangerous. But Bart lived by a "Try anything once." motto, and buying drugs were no exception to it.

His palms sweat, and he slid the bills between his fingers in hope to calm himself down. He saw Tim's dark figure first, standing along with Jaime's and Cassie's. He approached the group, and began to nervously stutter.

"S-so, I have the money, do you have the-" he began, but he was interrupted by Jaime.

"Lift up your shirt." he demanded.

"Wha-what?" Bart asked in surprise and confusion, and he flushed, "Why?"

"We need to make sure you don't have a wire on you. Now lift up your shirt." Jaime commanded in a more intense tone.

Bart did, to prove to the three that he was not an undercover cop.

Feeling satisfied, the Hispanic teen seemed to relax. Bart began to hand Tim the money, when a police car suddenly began to pull up and it's siren went off.

"Are you fucking serious?!" Jaime screeched, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Bart, whose face went pale and he dropped the money in surprise.

"I swear to god, I'm not with them! Please, believe me!" Bart begged.

Jaime grumbled, but Cassie and Tim began to book, to which, he followed. Bart knew he had to make a decision here and then. Should he run with them, or just turn himself in?

Ultimately, he decided to run. Being a track star, he quickly caught up with the group. They didn't have time nor enough cares in the world to try and stop him. Jaime turned around and fired bullets at the cop car. There was no fucking way he was going back to jail, or possibly prison this time around. Tim lead them into the woods, knowing his way around well. The heavy gasps of air, cracking of twigs, shouts of police officers, and crunching of leaves were the only noises made. Once they were out, Tim lead them into a shady-looking house in the poorer part of town. He locked the door behind him, and the three dealers began to work on closing the curtains. Once they were done, they allowed themselves to catch their breaths.

A man, presumably in his early twenties, sat on the couch, giggling, obviously very high.

"What'ja do this time, Timmy?" he asked.

"Who's that?" Bart asked, obviously crept out.

"My old foster brother, Dick. Ignore him, he's always high." Tim informed, then turned back to Bart, "Wait. Why the fuck are you here?"

"I swear to god, I have no idea what happened. My friend wanted me to buy weed for a party and I was the only one brave enough to go. I got scared and I guess it was just the adrenaline rush and-" suddenly, a buzz went off in Bart's pocket. Without asking, Cassie took his phone, reading the messages that appeared on the lock screen.

"They're from his dad." she explained, and began to read them, "'One of your friends told me what you were doing. You are in super huge trouble.', 'Bart, I cannot believe you would stoop to this level.', 'You are going to face some serious consequences.'"

"Oh god..." Bart mumbled, "Dead. I'm totally dead."

"Sure as fuck you are, ese." Jaime mumbled, pointing his gun at Bart once again, "One way or another."

"Woah, Jaime, chill." Dick called from his recliner and chuckled, "Killing doesn't help anybody."

Jaime sighed, putting his gun away, but he still complained, "This fucking bastard is going to get all of us in huge trouble!"

"Sorry." Bart mumbled quietly.

"You better be fucking sorry! You were too fucking dumb to even notice your dad following you!" Jaime snapped. Bart flinched.

"So what are we going to do with him?" Cassie asked.

Tim shrugged at his girlfriend and Jaime glared at Bart. Bart flinched once again before glaring back. Suddenly, feelings of regret filled him, and he ran for the door and began to unlock it. Cassie reacted in time and grabbed him, her muscular body allowing her to lift up Bart and pull him back. Bart screamed and tried to fight, but all he did was flail.

"Shut the fuck up!"
Tim commanded, grabbing the gun from Jaime and pointing it at Bart's face. Bart suddenly came quiet but still let out small gasps. "You were dumb enough to follow us back, now we're all caught in this shit together! There's no way you're leaving now!" Tim handed the gun back to Jaime, and said, "I'll go get some rope or something, so he doesn't try to run anymore."

Cassie pinned Bart to the floor, and Jaime smiled, carelessly tossing the gun around as if it were a toy.

"Make one fucking noise and I'll kill you." he said in a casual manner.

"Bu-but why? Why are you like this?" Bart cried, and Jaime didn't know why he found himself taken aback.

He froze for a second before responding, "In this life, you have to be."

Tim returned with a bunch of kids' jump ropes that he had found in the garage. The group forced Bart onto an old chair, and Dick watched, chuckling with amusement in the background. They tied his legs to the chair legs and his arms behind the chair. Tears brimmed in his eyes by now.

"Please, just let me go. I'll never tell on you guys, I swear." he promised.

Tim narrowed his eyes, "You followed us back to our safe haven. You could just run away and reveal to your little daddy where we are. Why would we let you go?" he then whispered something to Cassie, and the two left into the kitchen. Bart stared at Jaime, eyes full of fear and sadness... and sympathy?

"What put you here?" he asked.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jaime hissed, and for the third time, Bart flinched.

"You weren't always like this. I can tell. You used to be happy. You used to not sell drugs, and, y'know, not kidnap people on the side." Bart tried to joke.

"You don't know shit about me." Jaime spat.

"You were abused as a kid, weren't you? Parent was a drunk or a drug abuser?" Bart asked.

"Shut your fucking trap!" Jaime commanded, and pointed the gun underneath Bart's chin, pushing his head back, and Bart breathed heavily. After about thirty seconds, he let go. Bart didn't dare to speak. Tim and Cassie returned, quiet, with food in their arms.

Jaime grunted, then walked away to sit in the family room. He knew what Bart was doing- he was trying to manipulate him. Bart was trying to get friendly with Jaime so he could be let go.

Dick spun his recliner to face Jaime, "That motherfucker can read you like a book." he chuckled.

"Dick, I'm not in the mood for this." Jaime mumbled.

"Doesn't make it any less true." Dick insisted.

Jaime sighed.

"Want a joint?" Dick offered. Jaime nodded. Dick lit him one, and Jaime was relieved to finally be able to relax.

But only for so long.