Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warnings: Contains the most precious individual in the world. Also, threats. And multiple traumatized civilians.

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Colin Wilkes (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

Summary: Imagine that Damian goes to a regular school full time. And has to do things that normal grade-schoolers have to do. Like suffer through the first day of school.

Damian resisted the urge to sigh as Grayson peeked into the room hesitantly. He didn't want to be bothered right now, but he knew that putting up resistance when Grayson was genuinely worried was pointless.

Of course, Grayson had no need to worry, but try telling the idiot that.

"Dami? Mind if I come in?"

Damian snorted and closed his sketchbook. "What do you want, Grayson? Come to fetch me for school?" he spat.

Grayson walked into the room, a weak smile on his face. "Come on, Little D, it won't be so bad."

Damian stared at him.

"Okay," Grayson acquiesced, holding his hands up. "I can see how this would be bad from your point of view, but-"

"Can you?" Damian asked sarcastically, unable to stop his vitriol. "I find that surprising, given the fact that even Father can't."

("But Father-"

"This will be good for you, Damian."

"I'll be surrounded by... children!"

"You're a child, Damian."

"Regardless, I'm not one of them; they're ignorant and naive! What's the point of putting me in school with them? Especially when I already know everything they could attempt to teach me! I-"

"That's enough, Damian. You're going to school, and that's final.")

Grayson sighed heavily and sat down next to him on the bed.

"I know it seems that way, but Bruce really does get it."

"I doubt that," Damian grumbled, crossing his arms and looking away.

"...I know. But he does. He just... B has good reasons for wanting to send you to school."

"Like what?"

Grayson grinned wryly. "It may seem hypocritical - and I know it doesn't matter to you - but B wants you to... make friends. Your own age."

Damian stared at his eldest brother blankly.

(He can't be serious.)

"You're joking."

Grayson laughed, grinning brightly. "No. I'm not."

"That... is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. And I've listened to your useless blabbering for hours on end before."

Grayson spluttered. "Hey!"

"What does it matter? There's no way they could relate to me. Besides, there's Colin."

Grayson smiled slyly, making Damian glare. He had no idea why members of his "family" insisted on teasing him about having a friend. Or the fact that he called him by his first name. They were all ridiculous, really.

"Well," Grayson began, clearing his throat, "he actually wants you to have... normal friends. Normal kids. He thinks it'll be good for you. I know it doesn't make sense to you, but, just... give it a try, all right?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope, but you should still try!" Grayson exclaimed, ruffling Damian's hair and pulling him close.

"Grayson! Cease this at once! Let me go!"

His brother ignored him and planted a kiss on his cheek, making Damian gag. Grayson simply laughed and stood up, pulling Damian with him. He smiled softly and began straightening Damian's uniform and finger combing his hair.

Damian gave a perfunctory grumble, but didn't bother struggling.

Grayson looked at him affectionately. "Do you want to bring your sketchbook? No, probably best not to. Now, grab your backpack and head out. Alfie's waiting for you. And say goodbye to B and the others on your way out."

"Yes, Grayson," Damian agreed with a put upon sigh.

"I love you, Dami. Have a good day."

Damian looked down and walked past him. "Thank you, Grayson," he muttered, ignoring the older male's laugh.

(My face had better not be red.)

Damian glared at the whiteboard from his position in the back of the class. This was what he got for having "W" as the first letter of his last name. His seat was one of the least defensible in the entire classroom. If there were an attack, there would be no way for him to immediately counter and protect civilians.

This was going to be a disaster. He could already tell.

"Hello, class, my name is Ms. Andrews! I'll be your teacher this year; I hope we can all get along and get to know one another better!"

There was an echo of "Hello, Ms. Andrews", but all Damian could muster was a sneer. Honestly, this woman didn't seem particularly suited for this job. She was supposed to be teaching the children of Gotham's elite and she lacked the professionalism and sternness that he had expected.

"Now, why don't we all introduce ourselves? We'll give our names, and tell a little bit about ourselves. For example, I play the violin, and used to be the 3rd seat in the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra. Now, let's go in alphabetical order, hmm?"

Damian zoned out halfway through the first introduction. He had contemplated actually paying attention, but decided it was pointless. Having information on these juveniles wouldn't assist him in any way. If he ever did need the information for some unimaginable reason, he'd simply blackmail Drake into finding it for him.

(This is a complete waste of time.)

Damian had to stop himself from attacking when someone reached out to touch him, instead settling for leaning out of the way and shooting a glare at the boy next to him.

The boy recoiled. "It's your turn," he whispered nervously.

"Tt." Damian stood up crossing his arms and scowling. "Damian Wayne."

"Hello, Damian, can you tell us something about yourself?" Andrews asked, nauseatingly saccharine.

Damian almost refused her.

( "Nope, but you should still try!")

Damian inwardly cursed his brother. The idiot was infecting his him.

He sighed. What would he say? It seemed as though they were supposed to say something they were proud of, and since he couldn't mention being Robin...

"I once drugged my brother's coffee, barred his windows, and locked his door so that he couldn't escape once he woke up."

(That should be sufficient.)

Everyone was staring at him. He cocked an eyebrow as he sat down, unsure what the sudden hush was about.

Andrews gaped at him. "D-Damian...that's... uh... um... who's next?" she finished weakly.

"Tt," Damian muttered, confused at the woman's stuttering, but pleased that she hadn't decided to say anything to him.

He was going to attempt to cooperate in this ridiculous endeavor, but he didn't want to speak with these people more than he had to.

The elementary level cafeteria was spacious, luxurious - and boring. It wasn't anything he hadn't expected, and the decor wasn't nearly as tasteful as at the Manor. The interior decorators obviously didn't have Pennyworth's taste.

He didn't bother getting in line, instead sitting at the table with the best vantage point and opening the lunch box that Pennyworth had packed for him.

One vegetarian wrap, fresh baked pita bread, and homemade humus.

And a note.

Damian arched an eyebrow at the brilliant blue slip of paper.

(Grayson's work, obviously.)

"Hey, Dami! I hope you're okay. You're already half-way through the day and you'll be home before you know it! I'm sure you're doing great; keep up the good work. Love you!"

Damian sighed at the absolute sappiness of his brother. What in the world was wrong with him?

He stashed the note back in the lunch box and pulled out his food.

*Ring*

He frowned slightly and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes as he read the caller ID.

"What do you want, Brown? Shouldn't you be failing a class?"

She snorted. "First day of school starts tomorrow for me, brat."

"Why are you calling? I'm trying to eat lunch."

"Can't see what's so appealing about a vegetarian lunch."

"Of course you can't. What do you want?"

"Today, after school, you and me, kid. You had better be ready."

Damian blinked. "What are you talking about, Brown?"

Brown gave an over-dramatic gasp. "You mean you forgot? Vigilante Watch, Playing for Keeps, and The Upper Crust: Gotham's Elite recorded today!"

Damian's eyes widened in excitement, but he made sure to keep his voice level. "You mean those stupid reality shows you make me watch?"

"Yes. Those. So you'd better be ready."

"I'll have homework."

"No one has homework on the first day."

He forced a realistic sigh. "Fine, you'll only keep bothering me about it otherwise."

"I knew you'd come around; if I didn't know better, I'd even think you liked watching those shows with me. Have a good day, Dami!"

"Don't be an idiot," he denied smoothly. "Goodbye, Brown."

He hung up the phone and looked up, raising his eyebrow. A group of students had approached him while he had been on the phone and then they had simply stood there, watching him.

He'd been content to ignore them while he was talking, but now they were just annoying him.

"What?" he bit out.

They stared at him and then each other before the apparent leader took a step forward.

"This is our table."

Damian resisted the urge to groan. This was as cliche as the sitcoms that Brown used to make him watch. And he didn't feel like dealing with a bunch of territorial children.

(What had Father been thinking?)

"Sit down then," Damian snapped, going back to his lunch.

If these interruptions didn't stop, he'd never finish eating.

He'd never even start.

"Leave."

Damian looked up slowly, glare firmly in place. He was pleased to see them step back, but he didn't let it show. He stood up languidly, leaning across the table. They were all taller than he was, but he'd learned to be intimidating in spite of being shorter than his opponents.

"Listen to me now," he hissed. "I don't care what you brainless poltroons do, but if you don't stop talking to me, I will destroy all of you and run you out of this school before you have the chance to cry for your, likely, underpaid nannies. So shut up and either sit down or sit somewhere else."

Damian made sure to look each of them in the eye before sitting back down and turning to his lunch.

He sighed in frustration as a few of the idiots began to cry before they all ran away.

(Babies.)

"Andrews."

The teacher started and turned around, pausing in writing the equation on the whiteboard.

"Who-"

"Andrews, I demand you fix this."

She gaped at him. "Uh... Damian... Call me Ms. Andrews, please. And raise your hand."

He shot her a look. "Don't ignore the problem here, Andrews."

She went slightly red. "Damian-"

"I demand to be moved."

Everyone in class was staring at him. Again. It was as though they had nothing better to do. They probably didn't.

"Moved? What-"

"These idiots sitting next to me won't shut up. I demand to be moved to a different part of the class before they somehow manage to lower my IQ simply with their presence."

"Hey!"

"We're not idiots!"

"Andrews."

The woman only spluttered at him unintelligibly.

(Incompetence.)

Damian stood up, grabbing his things and moving to the front of the class. He stood in front of the second seat from the door - close enough to the main entrance to stop any intruders, and close enough to the window that he would be able to run the few meters to the secondary entry point in seconds should the need arise.

He raised an eyebrow at the girl staring at him open-mouthed.

"Get up," he ordered.

"Wh-but-"

He glared. She immediately stood, grabbed her stuff, and headed to the back of the room. He took his new seat and stared at his teacher, unaffected by her look of utter shock.

"You may continue class now, Andrews."

She let out what sounded like a whimper, making Damian roll his eyes.

(Everyone is this stupid place is ridiculous.)

Grayson opened the door when Damian arrived at the Manor with Pennyworth, all smiles and wide open arms.

"Excuse me, Master Richard," Pennyworth murmured, slipping past Grayson.

Damian sighed and submitted himself to the inevitable hug with as much grace as he could muster. It wasn't that bad anyway.

When Grayson let him go - still grinning - and ushered him into the Manor, Damian sniffed.

"If you missed me so much, perhaps you could consider telling Father not to make me go back."

Grayson pouted in a way that no grown man should be able to. "So you didn't have fun?"

"Did you just ask the Demonspawn if he had fun at school?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Todd has a point."

"Is the world ending?" Drake asked, amused.

"The world ends when I agree with you, Drake, so there's no need to worry about an apocalypse ever occurring."

Drake sneered at him and went back to eating his sandwich.

"So," Brown said, coming into the room with Cain following after her. "Are we going to get any calls from the school today?"

Damian blinked in thought.

"Agh! Dami, just say no!" Grayson begged, clasping his hands in desperation. "Please. Please. Please!"

"Oh my- I didn't even think about the stories! The stories, Babybird, the stories!"

"Hold on," Tim said, putting his sandwich down. "I need to record this for posterity."

"Did something happen at school?" Cain asked, cocking her head and looking at him.

Damian snorted. "Not if you don't count the general idiocy I've come to expect from others."

"Details," Todd demanded. "I need details."

"Tt. First, I need to speak to father to talk about being pulled out of that useless institution."

"I hope he says no," Todd muttered, making Damian glare.

"Okay, Bruce, then stories, then we watch reality television!" Brown exclaimed.

"I just wanted him to have a good day," Grayson moaned.

"You expected too much," Damian stated along with Drake.

The two of them stared at each other in revulsion.

Cain stole Drake's sandwich. "The world is ending."