A/N: Hello people! Ahem. I'm assuming you've all read the summary and know what this story is going to be all about. Or at least you think you do *mysterious chuckle*. Anyway, my point is: This is my first fanfic and I'd really appreciate constructive criticism on whether it's good, bad, whatever in-between. Your criticism will help me get better and if you've got a question feel free to ask me; I'll gladly answer you with another question! I love being cryptic so there just MIGHT be an answer in there. Or I might just be bullshitting you *shrugs*. Well, unless it's a really straightforward question. This chapter's pretty short but I can promise that the later ones will be longer; just setting up the stage.

I'm getting carried away with my Author's Note so, without further ado, I present to you –! *secretary whispers into ear*

Oh shit. *Breaks into cold sweat* I almost forgot the disclaimer! The lawsuit would have utterly destroyed me…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own DC or anything like that. If I did, I most certainly would NOT be here doing this. Hmm… I should probably mention that I do not own Skyrim either. Bethesda does, so get off my case.

Without further interruptions…

CH.1: Not Quite…Right.

He woke up suddenly, not quite knowing what roused him. Looking frantically around him, he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that he was still on his bed at his New York apartment. It was raining outside and his windows were open as he tended to keep them. He enjoyed the feel of the cool night air when he slept. Mumbling in annoyance, he closed his windows shut and got back on his bed. He checked the time. Ugh. 4:33AM. Rolling his eyes tiredly, he laid his head back on his pillow with a yawn. He usually got up for school at 7:00. Sure, he mostly got to school late but the teachers had come to learn to expect nothing more from him. Even when he got up early, he'd invest some time on leveling up his High Elf mage on The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Only when the clock's little arm had gotten past eight did he bother to leave his apartment. No one was there to reprimand him or anything; his parents were… gone, so to speak, therefore his grandparents just sent him enough to be comfortable and paid for his education.

And he wouldn't have it any other way. He'd always been a person who preferred his own company. The chatter and noise of a group never pleased him at all. His grandparents never told him about his parents and he'd lived alone most of his life. The only thing he could gather was that they weren't the best of people. He wished he'd actually known them though.

Groaning, he diverted his mind from his current line of thought. It wasn't going to do him any good to reminisce about what happened thirteen years ago. Besides he had school tomorrow – well, today – and he didn't want to get there late.

…Later than usual.

Sighing, he closed his eyes so he could drift off to sleep. He pondered if he should try counting sheep then decided to just go with it. He only got to ten, however, as he figured that the cool breeze caressing his face would get him to sleep easily enough. He idly wondered when he reopened the windows though. Oh, of course…

…He didn't.

"Don't freak out."

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" The high school teenager yelled with all the manliness of a ballerina. Gripping tightly to the edge of his blanket, he covered himself up to his head and whimpered out, "Please don't hurt me! All the money's in the little box under my bed, just take it all!" Still hidden (at least he thought he was) under his covers, the teen heard a sigh and movement towards him. With a sudden yank, his blankets went flying off him faster than he could pull them back. Now face to face with his assailant, his eyes threatened to pop out of his head with the intensity that he stared. This is a joke, he thought, not quite believing it himself. Then, gathering himself, he managed to mutter weakly, "Are you here to force me into that cosplay club I rejected a few days back?"

His 'assailant' scowled at the teen before him, part of his face hidden by a black mask. "I'm not part of a 'cosplay club' as you put it. I just need to verify something and I'll be gone. What is your name?"

The high school teen was still speechless as he gazed at the person before him; the suit, the gloves, the mask, the overall design. He was pretty sure he knew who this was supposed to be, the get-up was pretty spot on. Then, hearing the low growl from assailant-guy made him realize he'd spaced out. Startled, he took a deep breath to calm himself and, staring at the blue bird insignia on the chest of the mystery man, he said:

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne."

In retrospect, Bruce supposed he shouldn't have told a complete stranger his name, but hey, in his defense, the stranger would probably have beaten it out of him anyway. With a curt nod, the costumed man replied, "I thought so. You do look like him. By the way, I'm–"

"–Nightwing," Bruce completed, shock etched on his face. "But you can't be. Y-you're just a c-c-comic character! H-h-how…?" He became silent as his brain went blank trying to explain what was happening. He wanted to believe it was just a cosplayer playing games, but judging from the low hum and occasional sparks, the Eskrima sticks on Nightwing's belt looked very real. However, it seemed like a possible idea for someone with enough time and money to come up with the stuff. Bruce glared suspiciously at the person he was now certain was someone looking to make fun out of him.

Nightwing blinked twice. Looking puzzled, he asked, "How did you kn–"

"Look, pal, I'm going to give you ten seconds to get the hell out of my apartment before I call the cops." Nightwing raised an eyebrow as Bruce continued his rant, "Seriously, what is wrong with you people?! Are you so desperate for members that you would break into others' houses?! Get. Out. Now." He finished, calming down and hissing the last three words in order to make himself clear.

Nightwing didn't seem impressed, however, and just muttered to himself, "Well, he has his fire, I guess. But this is so wrong. Kid doesn't even look eighteen yet." Bruce straightened up and tried to indignantly state that he would be eighteen in a couple months, but Nightwing chose that moment to press his fingers against his ear and say, "Yes, I've found him. You'd better come quick, though. You're not gonna like this." He grimly went back to staring at Bruce and then suddenly said, "You know what? You should probably start packing. I'm guessing they'll need to run some tests anyway."

What? Bruce wasn't sure he'd heard right. Start packing? Run some tests? On him?! Deciding that he'd had enough crazy for one night, Bruce reached for his phone and quickly dialed 911. He glanced at the weird guy in his room expecting him to stop the call, but Nightwing seemed unconcerned, opting to stand patiently in the middle of the room and gazing around.

"911, what's your emergency?" The operator asked, Bruce immediately whispered urgently, "Please, I need help. There's a crazy looking guy in my apartment and he's saying stuff about running tests on me. I think he wants to kidnap me!" Bruce was asked to state his location and he gladly obliged, "I live in –"

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of bluish light in his dark apartment, causing him to cover his eyes in pain. When the light dimmed, Bruce dared to open his eyes. "Hello? Hello, can you hear me?" The operator was left hanging as Bruce gaped like a fish, his phone still held to his ear. He was pretty certain he knew who the people standing in front of him were. He'd seen them all before.

"So what do you think J'onn? I'm not the only one that sees the problem here right?" Nightwing inquired of one of his two companions. The Martian Manhunter frowned slightly and said slowly, "No. You are not."

The last person spoke up in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Well, at least we now know how he looked like as a kid, right?" The two others raised quizzical eyebrows and the speedster deflated. "Not funny, Wally. This is definitely going to screw up the plan," chastised Nightwing, rubbing his head as he felt a migraine coming. All three then began muttering to each other with contemplative looks on their faces. Bruce was spooked out of his mind at this point; Nightwing, The Martian Manhunter, The Flash. All in his room. And they all looked like the real deal, especially the Martian Manhunter; it wasn't easy to pull off that kind of look except in had no idea what deal they had with him, but he wasn't enough of an optimist to think it was good. Glancing at his bedroom door, he guessed he could make it out the door before they got to him since his bed was closer to it than they were. Maybe then he could lock it behind him and trap them inside, giving him more than enough time to bail!

…

No. Of course not. What was he even thinking? A locked wooden door? Against them? It didn't look like the door stood much of a chance if he was to be honest. Assuming The Flash even let him get anywhere near it.

Hmm. He had just subconsciously admitted that he had bought into the whole thing. Seriously? He unexpectedly laughed, surprising the others in the room. He could just imagine it now:

DC Comics Presents:

All Your World Are Belong To Us {*}

It would make a great title for a comic, Bruce snickered, accepting that he had finally cracked. Seeing Flash zipping to him anxiously with speed that blew his homework right off the table only made Bruce laugh harder. Wally gave J'onn a troubled look and the latter proposed with a slight shrug, "It would seem he has trouble coming to terms with this."

"Do we really have time for this, though?" Nightwing inquired impatiently. The others seemed to agree with him and regarded Bruce with wonder, bewilderment and a badly hidden tinge of disappointment. Breaking the silence, Nightwing stepped up and asked, "What are your parents' names?"

Bruce, having calmed down by now, was a bit taken aback at the strange question but answered, "I don't know." At their irritated expressions, he added, "They left me when I was four years old. I was raised by my grandparents for a while until I came here to live on my own. They never spoke about my parents and I never had any records of them." He then muttered lowly, "Nor did I bother to look."

The heroes seemed to take his word for it (well, one was telepathic so it'd be pretty hard to lie) and murmured amongst themselves.

Finally, The Flash turned and calmly spoke to the teen, "Alright Bruce, here's the thing. We're going to need you to come with us. There are questions that need answering and some… problems… that need solving as well. You are vital for both of these things. Do you understand?"

He didn't like the sound of it. It seemed a lot like they needed him for some superhero crap that would likely get him killed. He wasn't quite willing to risk that. But…at the same time, he did want to help. He couldn't really explain why, but he felt like helping these people would serve a greater purpose than sleeping in and playing his console before heading to school late. He felt… obligated. It was hard to shake off the strange feeling. Making his choice, he steeled his resolve. Hey, these guys were superheroes after all, meaning he'd probably be safe with them anyway. Probably. Hopefully.

Either way, he looked at them with determination and said, "I'm in."

Sporting a pleased smile, J'onn walked up to him and Wally, with Dick coming up beside him. "But first I've got one question," Bruce announced.

"Which is…?" Nightwing raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Will I be back in time to watch my show this evening?"

Wally chuckled a bit as J'onn put his hand on Bruce's shoulder, then his face turned grave, "No. You won't."

And then they were gone in a flash of blue light.

A/N: And there's the chapter to begin all chapters. Hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't, I'd appreciate you telling me where I screwed up. I'm not talking about the plot though, 'cause I've already got that planned out. If you don't like it then don't read it, no skin off your back, right? I'm already working on the next chapter and it should be ready in two days, give or take. Remember it's considerably longer than this chapter.

{*} If you don't get it, Google search 'All your base are belong to us'. Too lazy to explain, don't want you to think it's a typo.

Later!

Rhylan Writer, *insert badass signature*