a/n: *deep breath* here it is. my literal child. if i didn't work so hard on this, i'd burn bc it cause me so much grief. the idea hit me in the wonderful year of 2012 and i've been working on it for several years. if you remember reading this before, then don't worry. i reposted this, with some changes and improvements. follow me on tumblr at helllosweetie. enjoy and review, please.

Summary: Dick's life takes an interesting turn when his parents are almost killed. Or, all roads lead home.

Rating: T for intense situations

Disclaimer: I do not own young justice

/

"And what to us seems merest accident springs the deepest source of destiny,"

-Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller

i. butterflies

Today is Dick's American debut, and he's super excited. Yesterday, he finally mastered the new routine, and just in time because tonight he performs in front of Gotham's finest, which includes the billionaire Bruce Wayne. It's a huge honor, according to Haly. Dick insists that it doesn't matter, really, who's watching because he's going to be seriously nervous no matter what.

Haly has smile lines around his eyes. "That's no way to think, Dick," the old man says, grinning kindly. He pats the young boy on the shoulders. "I'm sure you'll do wonderful tonight. I've seen you practice- we all have. You're ready."

Dick's thankful for the encouragement (not that it helps or anything), but he figures that practicing his routine one more time before the big show won't hurt.

So he walks on over to the practice tent after lunch, and that's when he sees him: a huge, intimidating man is towering over his parents.

"Who's in charge here?" he snarls at Mary Grayson. She cowers back, and Dick panics for a moment, praying that his mother won't give Haly away. The aging man wouldn't stand a chance against these guys.

His father steps forward. "I am," he says. Dick lets out a small gasp, as this is not true, but then he quickly covers his mouth. Could they hear that?

There is no reaction among the man or his goonies, so he breathes out, relieved.

"I'm Tony Zucco," the slum seethes out, attempting friendliness. No one in the room is fooled.

They shake hands roughly.

"John Grayson. Can I do something for you?"

"Yeah, I believe you can."

Zucco breaks eye contact with Dick's father and paces slowly, hands behind his back.

"So. Mr. Grayson. Here's the thing. You're in our territory. Now Gotham, it ain't a nice place. Bad people runnin' around, ya' know?" He grins, his mouth full of rotting yellow teeth. His stench (cigarettes, dirt and the slight smell of peanut butter) reaches Dick, despite the great distance between them. "It pays to have protection. Which is why," he pauses, "you gotta pay up. Do I make myself clear?"

John nods once. "Very."

(He's so calm. Dick wonders how he manages to do it.)

"But," his father continues coldly, "We won't be accepting your offer. I deeply apologize, but I believe we're going to be fine on our own, thanks."

Zucco smirks slyly once again. "Okay. We won't argue with a gypsy. Though you're going to wish you hadn't said that." He turns to his henchmen. "Let's go, boys."

The gang clears out, but Dick is still too afraid to move. He feels perfectly safe behind the weightlifting equipment, thank you very much.

"Let's go home, Mary," his father says. Soon he hears the flap of the tent close behind them. Dick waits a few more minutes and is about to move when he hears footsteps. He quickly sits back down when he realizes it's two members of Zucco's gang.

"So we just remove the screws?" One says in a hushed voice.

"Yes. Goddammit Lee, he just told you this!" the other one remarks in equal tone.

"And what is the point of this, exactly?" The first one, whom Dick assumes is Lee, asks.

"When we detach this screw here," the smart guy responds. "The weight of the acrobats will break it and then whoosh- the Flying Graysons ain't flying no more."

"Ah, I get it."

The two don't talk anymore after that. Meanwhile, Dick just stays there, completely still until the noises stop and the goons are gone.

/

A few hours later, Dick is legitimately not feeling well. He keeps replaying the scene in his head of Lee and the other fellow trying to sabotage the act, and it brings powerful waves of nausea that he doesn't try to fight. He figures that if his parents catch on to his illness, they won't perform and the day will be saved.

He doesn't get much time to ponder over this because then, one of the performers walks by with a peanut butter sandwich that reminds him a bit too much of Zucco's rancid smell and he barely has time to make it to a waste bin before it makes its reappearance.

His mother immediately rushes to his side. "Oh, Dick! Honey, are you okay?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I'll be fine to perform tonight, don't worry, Dya."

"Absolutely not!" Mary says. "You can't risk going out, not tonight. Now, go back to the trailer while I talk to Haly and your father to see if Jahn can go on instead of us. Change into some comfortable clothes and I'll be there in a second." She kisses his forehead and sends him off.

/

That night, a great tragedy strikes: Jahn, despite how good he is, still breaks the ropes and falls to his death.

Dick blames himself.

ii. waves

Jahn's funeral is attended by the whole circus. Dick, out of everyone, cries the most.

He's asked to speak because they were pretty close as the acrobats usually trained together, but declines because he knows he'll be too much of a blubbering mess to do any talking. He's right, of course. His dad does it instead.

"Jahn was a great acrobat, friend, and role model for my son," John concludes. "It was a privilege to know him, and I believe I speak for all of us."

When the funeral is over, the lot on which the circus is set up is overcome in absolute silence. Mary and Jahn walk back to their portable quietly, their son nowhere in sight.

When she inquires about this, her husband simply collapses on a chair and says, "The kid's had a hard week. Leave him alone, distract him." He sighs. "This isn't exactly the kind of thing I was prepared to deal with when I became a parent."

Mary nods in agreement. "I'm worried about him, though."

"You're not alone."

/

Dick refuses to perform that night. His parents assure him that they checked the equipment already and everything is fine. However, he won't budge.

"I'm never going to touch a trapeze again," he grumbles. "You shouldn't do it either."

Mary's face changes from irritancy to compassion. She makes a move to touch his shoulder, but John stops her arm and gives her a look that says: don't. She looks hurt. "Well, during the show, what are you going to do?"

Dick is relieved that his parents aren't fighting him about it, and his face shows it. "I could hand out programs instead of Carlos and Frederick doing it and having to rush on stage."

His parents exchange a look before John shrugs and says, "I don't see why not. Of course, you'll have to ask Haly, but-"

Dick is already gone.

/

In the end, Haly okays Dick's idea and the nine-year-old finds himself handing out programs to the visitors of the circus. About ten minutes before the show is about to start, and older man and a girl who looks to be around Dick's age come up to him.

"Good evening," the man says pleasantly.

The boy does his best to smile brightly. "How are you today, sir?" he asks.

"Very well, thank you. If you don't mind my asking, will you tell us how old you are?"

"Nine, sir," Dick responds. "I'll be ten in a month.

The older man raises his grey and bushy eyebrows. He gestures to the girl behind him, who has bright red hair that clashes with her orange sweater, and says, "Barbara here is about that age. Aren't you, dear?"

She reddens deeply and silently pouts, embarrassed. "Uh, Dad? He probably has better things to do that sit here and talk to us."

"Actually, it's fine. The show doesn't start for another ten minutes."

Barbara scowls at the boy, her frown saying 'Don't encourage him!'

"So," her father begins. "Will you be performing for us tonight?"

"No," he admits. "I used to, but now-" he swallows, thinking of the late Jahn and the terrible end that met him, "-not anymore."

"Ah, shame. What will you be doing during the acts?"

Dick shrugs. He hadn't really thought that far ahead. "sitting out here, probably. I've already seen it a hundred times."

Suddenly, the speakers cackle. "Attention, folks: Haly's circus is due to start in three minutes. Please begin making your way to your seats. Thank you and enjoy the show."

The older man smiles apologetically. "Well, we'd better get going. Goodbye, young man." He shakes his hand and the girl wrinkles her nose at him as she passes.

Dick sighs and rolls his eyes.

/

Later that evening, he is sitting on a bench near the animal tent (conveniently located next to the restrooms so it smells rather… putrid, one could say) during intermission when he hears a voice behind him say, "You never told me your name."

He turns around, surprised, and Barbara continues, "My dad told you mine and frankly, it's rude."

"Oh," he says simply. "I'm Dick."

"Dick?" She stifles a snort. "Er, sorry, I think."

He scowls. This is why he doesn't interact with the locals of wherever he was. "Sure, Babs."

She smiles teasingly and motions for him to scoot over on his bench. "So, are you going to show me the animals, Dick?"

"Um, what?" He asks blankly.

"The animals," she repeats. "You know. Lions, tigers and bears, oh my? Of which the tent is right next to us?"

"Oh. Those." He thinks for a moment. "Okay."

"Yes!" She exclaims. "Come on, let's go before my dad comes to get me. He thinks I'm in the bathroom."

/

He shows her his favorite animal.

"You have an elephant?" Barbara (or Babs, as Dick keeps calling her) practically yells. "What kind of nine year old has an elephant?!"

"I do," he says frankly. "Her name is Zitka."

"She's beautiful," Babs breathes. "How old is she?"

"Six. I raised her."

The elephant lifts water from the pond and sprays it at his face, and he scolds her, laughing.

iii. severity

It happens nearly two years after the incident with Barbara, when the circus has mostly recovered from the Jahn accident. Dick is eleven now, and has his own act and different practice time. That's why he's not there to hear his mother scream.

She isn't killed (thank God), but it puts her in the hospital for two weeks. He and his father never leave her side. Her injuries from the fall (which was stopped by a net) shocked her unconscious, so he witnesses her awakening. Dick's name is the first thing out of her mouth.

"My leg hurts," comes after.

"I know, sweetheart," John says. "The doctor told us you broke it." He further explains the details of her fall, and then mentions the fatal word- paralysis.

His mom is crushed, he can tell, but she puts on a brave face. "Well, I guess that's the end of my circus career."

"Oh, Mary," her husband soothes. "Don't talk like that. I'm sure you'll be up on your feet in no time."

/

Dick is the only one to hear his mother cry herself to sleep that night.

/

And what would you know? She does walk again. Sure, it's after three months of extensive surgery and rehabilitation, but it's worth it for Dick to see his mother beside him, not in a wheelchair (although she needs one when she's tired or after a long day, even though her leg is left in a brace and she walks with a perpetual limp.

They refrain from mentioning anything about the circus.

/

In a few months, it is very clear that Mary will not be returning to the act. He's twelve now, and not very eager to leave the only home he has ever known.

(His parents, he can tell, are equally devastated.)

iv. clarity

South Africa is a nice place, by Dick's standards. He and his family live in a regular-sized house in a more residential area that has quite a few English-speaking schools. It's quiet, considering he used to live at an international traveling circus. He gains a friend in an American boy whose parents work for S.T.A.R. labs. The boy's name is Victor Stone. He's African American and funny and has a huge afro as well as a dog with a robotic tail.

"They call him Cyborg," Dick says to his parents upon describing the pet. "He's so cool!"

Meanwhile, he excels in school so much that his teachers decide to move him up a grade. His parents are thrilled about the idea; however, he himself isn't so sure.

"I don't want to move up a whole grade," he complains to his mother. "The eighth graders are so tall."

"You're plenty tall, my little robin," she coos. "And I'm sure you make lots of friends."

"Whatever you say," he grumbles and leaves the room to go skim some of the textbooks he'll be encountering tomorrow.

/

The next day, Dick sulks down the eighth grade hallway, keeping a close eye on the number beside the doors. When he reaches the correct one (109- he checks his schedule to make sure), he hears a familiar voice greet him.

"Hey, it's Dick! What's up, brother?" It's Vic, friendly as usual. The younger boy gives him a small but thankful smile as the teacher introduces herself.

"I am Miss Danvers," she says. "I'm sure you'll have a great rest of the year in this class. Have a seat."

He sits down next to Victor, who leans across the aisle and says, "It's really good to see you, Dick." They high-five.

/

School's a little better after that. Victor introduces him to all of his friends (who happen to be just about everyone, as he is overall a really friendly guy) and they begin to accept Dick as one of their own.

He's been in eighth grade for about two weeks when Vic decides to introduce him to his other best friend. They have to travel through a patch of forest before reaching their destination, a large tree house overlooking the water.

"What is this place?" Dick asks breathlessly, partly because of the long walk, but also because of the awe that he's in.

And awesome is a pretty good description of the house.

"This is where the Logans live," Vic says. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

/

The Logans, Dick discovers, consist of Marie and Garfield Logan, a mother-son duo who devote their lives to the animals of South Africa.

When he first meets Marie, he says, "You look familiar."

She just laughs. "Then you've probably seen Hello Megan! I used to act when I was younger."

"Oh," he says simply. "I think my mom used to watch that when we has free time at the circus."

She raises her eyebrows. "Circus?"

Vic clears his throat. "Dick and his parents used to be in a famous trapeze act, the Flying Graysons."

Garfield, her son, comes running down the stairs. "Did someone say the Flying Graysons?" He pauses for a second before noticing Victor. "Vic! What are you doing here? And is that who I think it is?"

"Um, Gar, this is my friend Dick. Dick Grayson."

"Oh my gosh! I knew it!" Garfield says quickly, excited. "When are you performing next? We bought tickets for your show a few months ago, but then Mom told me that they were voided, but I knew that she was wrong! I-" He stops talking suddenly. "Oh, sorry. I was rambling, wasn't I?"

Dick nods. "Um, we're retired. My mom broke her leg, so we quit."

Garfield physically deflates. "Oh," he says. "That's too bad."

"Yeah, it is," he agrees. "But hey- I can still do a quadruple air somersault. Want to see it?"

/

He's working on Geometry homework when he gets the call: there's been an explosion at S.T.A.R. labs and Victor is hurt.

"Is he going to be okay?" Dick asks his mom.

"I don't know," she replies.

A pregnant pause.

"His mother is dead."

He feels his heart drop to his stomach. He gulps. "Oh." And it's a moment before he speaks again. "His dad-"

"-is fine," Mary supplies.

"Can I go see him?"

She waits a minute before slowly shaking her head no.

/

Vic doesn't come back to school.

v. vacancy

With his best friends gone, Dick discovers he has quite a lot of free time. He doesn't like to watch television that much (not that the cable programs in Africa are that good anyway) and he's read most of the books in the languages he knows at that are available at the miniscule public library, so he does the only thing that's left: study. As the months pass by, the eighth grade curriculum becomes too easy, his grades begin to rise. Of course, he doesn't tell anyone why they're up so high (he's already read and memorized his textbooks) because he knows they'll just move him up a grade and he would like to stay in the class he's already in.

So when his parents ask him how his day at school went, he says, "Fine." When they ask if they work was hard, he replies, "It was okay," like every other kid his age would. And he becomes that regular kid, the one that goes out to the movies every so often, plays soccer, and places runner up in the school-wide spelling bee. His parents are proud and their family is normal.

And then the insomnia starts. Every time he closes his eyes, images of falling bodies and nuclear explosions run through his mind. He finds it easier to stay awake so long that he passes into an untouched slumber. It works and he makes it through the year under this familiar façade.

In June, he receives a letter. It tells him that he's been granted a Wayne Scholarship to any American private school of his choice. At the same time, he discovers a very prestigious private school in Connecticut.

And that's how he ends up going to Gotham Academy.

vi. trial

Dick isn't that nervous for his first day at Gotham Academy. He's performed in front of hundreds; High School should be no big deal.

Right?

Okay, so he's a nervous wreck. It's America. He's seen all of the television shows about kids being teased because they're foreign, a scholarship student or a small kid (check, check and check) or whatever, but he tells himself that he could easily defend himself if something like that were to happen. Dick also figures that keeping his age (since he's a year younger than all of the other students in his grade) on the down-low isn't a bad idea, either.

He's beginning to feel better on the way to school. And then he sees the limo. At first, he believes it's just a random celebrity who lives in Gotham (there are quite a few of those, Dick has learned since he arrived) but it turns into the school. It's not as if it's surprising; however, it does make him recoil a bit and wonder how he'll fit in among the heirs and heiresses of various fortunes.

His mom pulls up to the drop-off zone.

"Goodbye, honey." She kisses him on the cheek and he makes a face. They both chuckle.

"Bye, Mom," he says.

"I'll see you tonight!" She calls out, driving away.

Dick sighs. His mother and father are both starting work at WayneTech today (it was a perk of the scholarship that they were offered positions there), and he knows she's nervous about doing an office job for one of the first times in twenty years.

New beginnings are always rough. He puts on a determined face and walks towards the guidance office.

/

Most of the kids at Gotham Academy have already been in school for about a month, so it's really no surprise when the principal assigns him a student liaison.

"Hi, I'm Babs," the girl introduces herself. "Well, technically, I'm Barbara, but they call me Babs. Anyway, I'll be the one to show you around today, since we have a lot of the same classes together. I'm sure you're going to love it here."

"Thanks," he mumbles, blushing.

An awkward silence falls between them and ends only when Babs clears her throat. "So, Dr. Thomas- that's our school social worker- tells me you just moved here from Africa. Is that where you're from?"

They turn a corner into the middle courtyard, where several student lounge, eating lunch or chatting. Babs takes a seat on a picnic table underneath a tall oak tree.

"No," Dick answers. "I was technically born in America, but I spent most of my childhood traveling."

"Fascinating," she says.

Dick shrugs.

As she hands him his schedule, locker number and combination, and elective survey, she asks, "So, before moving here, had you been to Gotham?"

He nods curtly. "Yeah, once. I used to travel with a circus, and we performed once here. It wasn't my favorite stop."

"Hey!" she says suddenly. "I knew I recognized you! You showed me your elephant!"

"Yeah, I guess that was me."

"You're the one who gave me the nickname Babs." She laughs once, stoic, and fingers a hair tie on her wrist. Sobering, she asks, "So, how is Zitka?"

"Dead," is his reply.

Barbara frowns. "Oh," she says.

vii. façade

Over the next few months, life is better for Dick at Gotham Academy. He grows a little taller, excels academically, and gradually, he gets over the tragedy in Africa. He and Barbara get along swimmingly and soon enough, she's his best friend.

Then, on October 15th, a new student is in his Human Geography class, sitting in the normally vacant seat next to his. The kid, who has bright red hair, explains that his parents aren't sure if they want to send him to GA just yet, so they're letting him try the school out for a day to see if it would be the right choice for him.

"By the way, I'm Wally," Wally adds when he's finishes. "Who're you?"

"Richard Grayson," he says. "But you can call me Dick."

"Dick?" Wally echoes. "Like the-"

Here it comes. The Dick joke.

"-Dick Van Dyke Show?"

Well. That isn't exactly what he was expecting.

"Er, yeah," he responds lamely. "I guess."

"Talk about Comedy gold!" he says, and then goes back to doodling lightning bolts in his red sketchbook.

/

The rest of the period is uneventful. Dick learns that his new friend's uncle is the substitute physical education coach and will be for the next week.

"So he's a teacher?"

"No."

Dick almost asks why he's teaching a class at a private school if he's not a teacher, but then the alarms go off.

The redhead frowns. "Uh oh. Gotta run." And then literally a split second after, he's gone.

The human geography teacher carefully instructs the class to quietly gather in a corner of the room away from the windows, as they do not want any intruder to see them and that this is not a drill. They do precisely as she says.

Once in the shadows, Dick whispers to his friend, Bette, "What's happening?"

She shrugs and whispers back, "I don't know. Security breach, maybe. Probably a sociopath from the loony bin down the road."

He guesses that "the loony bin from down the road" is Arkham Asylum. He doesn't really want to think about it. "Has this happened before?"

She wrinkles her nose. "About twice a year."

/

They are in that corner for another two hours before the loudspeaker crackles and a gruff voice says, "Now, we don't want any trouble from you all. All that we need it $5,000 from all of you Richie Riches and we'll let you go. But not before then, got that? And none of you little brats are gonna escape. I'm sending some of my men over to your classrooms right now." The intercom buzzes out just as the door opens and a rough-looking man from the gang that's holding them hostage steps in.

Dick has to work hard not to retch right then and there because, suddenly, he recognizes the voice that was on the loudspeaker.

It's Tony Zucco. He's the one taking Gotham Academy.

/

If the man sees them, he doesn't show it. Instead, he stands right in the doorway and looks out onto the hallway, his face stoic and hands, armed.

Dick shudders. He feels nine again, crouching behind weightlifting equipment, the awful scent of Zucco filling his nose.

But no, that's not the stench of the man who tried to kill his parents that he smells.

It's knockout gas.

/

When he wakes up, he's lying in a hospital room with the bed next to his occupied by an eating redhead.

"Hey, dude," Wally says, his mouth full of something from Chicken Whizees. "Looks like you got hit with that reject knockout gas. You were out for days. I was hit with the same stuff too, but dude, it got you bad. Did it go of in your face or something?"

Dick shrugs. He really wishes his acquaintance would put away the junk food, as the thought of food is making him queasy, but he decides that that would be rude.

"I was only out for a few hours," Wally continues. "You probably inhaled the worst of the bunch, but man, that was crappy knockout gas. I could probably make better with my home chemistry set." He pauses, but only to shove more food in his mouth. "Chicken Whizees?" he offers but Dick declines.

"How long am I going to be here?" he wonders aloud.

Wally shrugs. "I dunno. You'll probably get out a few days after me, and I'm out Thursday."

Dick thanks him and attempts to watch the cartoon that Wally has on (an old rerun of Teen Titans), but he develops a severe headache and goes back to sleep.

/

When he wakes up, Babs is sitting in the chair next to his bed, reading a magazine.

"Hey," he croaks and her face lights up.

"Dick! You're awake!" she says excitedly.

Wally, from the other side of the room, calls out, "Told you he'd wake up soon."

Babs' expression turns sour. "No one asked you, Wallace."

"No one needed to, Barbara."

"It doesn't-"

"Okay, enough," Dick interjects quickly. "Stop it, both of you. I've literally woken up forty minutes ago after being knocked out for what, a week? I've got a borderline migraine and I really do not need this right now, okay? So just chill out and feel the aster."

The two guilty parties mumble and then Wally asks, "Aster?"

"Yeah, aster," he replies. "The opposite of dislike is like, so shouldn't the opposite of disaster be aster?"

"But you wouldn't say 'feel the disaster' in a sentence," Wally points out. Dick shrugs.

"If you're going to hang out with this kid," Babs says, pointing to her best friend, "You have to know his language. There's more, too. Like traught- the opposite of distraught or whelmed, a healthy medium between overwhelmed and underwhelmed, and… what else is there?" She sits back for a moment, thinking.

"Turbed," Dick supplies.

"That's right!" She exclaims. "Opposite of disturbed. And then there's, uh, chalant-"

"Let me guess," Wally says in monotone. "Opposite of nonchalant?"

"That would be correct," Babs replies.

"Great. Any other weird quirks about you that I should know?" Wally's tone indicates that he is being sincere, but the look on his face shows that he is anything but.

"Well, if we're being honest here, I did grow up in a circus," Dick says.

The older boy laughs, but when he sees that he is completely serious, he says with a blank look, "What?"

/

Their laughter is so loud, a doctor comes in and makes sure that they weren't given too much pain medication.

/

"So, Wally," Dick starts after his best friend has gone home. "What exactly happened at the school after I passed out?"

His new friend shrugs. "Flash and his sidekick showed up. They fight was over in two minutes flat." Then he chuckles to himself, an inside joke Dick will never know.

He has learned to accept not knowing now.

viii. 'mis

"She is just so- ugh!- irritating! I can't stand it! One minute I'm walking with all of my beach supplies, ready to go hang out with all of my friends, the next, she's there with all of our mentors, going, 'So who are you supposed to be?' and then I go, 'Who is that?' and then our leader is all, 'She's going to be joining the team,' and it's all so- ugh!- stupid!"

Dick smirks. He's been listening to Wally rant about a new girl on whatever team sport thing he does after school for the past thirty minutes, and he's beginning to suspect that the 'Wall-man' has a new crush.

"So, 'Baywatch,'" he begins. "What's her name?"

"Hey, watch yourself, circus boy," Wally warns. "I didn't tell you about that so you could use to against me. And if you truly need to know, her name is Artemis Crock."

Dick frowns. "Maybe you're being too harsh," he says skeptically. "What has she done to you?"

Wally huffs. "Besides rob me of my dignity in front of most of my friends and mentors?"

"I don't know. I pretty sure you did it to yourself when you tripped and fell barely a foot through the door. But yeah, besides, that."

"Nothing," he mutters.

"Then give her a chance," he says. "She was probably really nervous, it being her first day and all."

Wally sighs, defeated but still annoyed. "Okay, fine. But I still don't trust her. And who made you the guru, anyway?"

Dick throws a pillow at him. "I'll have you know, growing up in the circus gives you phenomenal people skills."

His friend opens his mouth to respond when Mary calls up to them, announcing that the cookies are done, and Wally is gone.

/

The next time he sees his friend, it's a week later at the West residence, and the redhead is fuming.

"Did Artemis piss you off again?" Dick asks.

Judging by the deepened scowl on his face, the answer is yes.

"What did she do this time?"

Wally flings himself onto his bed, wrinkling his Flash comforter in the process. "It's not her. Well, not really. It's Megan."

"But you like Megan," Dick reasons. "Weren't you going to ask her out before your birthday?"

He buries his head deeper into his pillow, also decorated with the Flash insignia. "I was until I realized how obvious it is that she likes Conner."

"She's only known him for a few weeks," he points out.

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" the older boy moans through the fabric.

Dick grimaces. He guesses reminding Wally that Megan likes a guy she barely knows better than him isn't good for his ego. "But you've only known her for a few days more than him."

"Yeah, but for the first few days she knew him all he did was brood and tear his shirt off."

The younger boy sighs. "I really wish you'd tell me what you do after school so I could put all of this that you tell me in context."

"You know I can't do that, bro," Wally responds. "Sworn to secrecy at the threat of death, and all that. Hey, do you have your Chem homework with you?"

"Wally, we don't even go to the same school. And I'm not taking Chemistry until my sophomore year," Dick reminds his friend. "So quit changing the subject. The least you could do is tell me why you can't tell me."

"Okay, fine. I'm part of a society and it's kind of super elite and I would compromise everything we've worked for if I told you and you, for some reason, decided to tell the entirety of America," he says in one breath. "Happy?"

"Getting there," he replies. After a moment, he adds, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were part of the Justice League."

Wally scowls. "Definitely not in the League," he grumbles, and Dick can tell that his friend is being truthful.

/

Two weeks, later, Wally calls him and says that Megan would like to meet him next Saturday.

"Okay," he tentatively agrees. "Where should I meet you guys?"

His friend gives him a time and a location, but then Dick asks if he would be intruding in on a date.

"It's not a date," his friend answers, "for now. If it goes well, maybe it will turn into one. So be good. Behave and compliment me so she sees how truly amazing the Wall-man can be."

Dick laughs. "Don't worry. I won't mention your beanie baby collection to her."

"You'd better not," he says. "Also, no Barbara."

"Yeah, whatever," he replies. "See you there, Wally."

/

He gets to the restaurant two minutes late (Babs, of course, in tow) and instantly spots Wally in a booth, another redhead in front of him.

"That's him," he says to his best friend.

"I can see that," she responds. "Are you sure I'm not intruding?"

He brushes her comment away. "Of course not. Wally loves having you around."

She rolls her eyes, as this is obviously a lie and she gets on his nerves as much as he does hers, but says nothing.

Wally waves them over. "Hey, Dick! I see you brought Barbara along! How great is that!"

Babs says quietly to him, "Oh, you know how I always love to see you too, Wallace."

The girl who he's with stand up, and Dick is a little blown away because she looks exactly like the main character in Hello, Megan! He remembers Africa, how he met the actress who played the lead role, and how Megan is what Marie must have looked like as a teenager. The resemblance is a little odd, but Megan is nice enough. Wally, of course, makes a complete fool of himself at least three times over the course of the meal, but Megan is very forgiving of his stupidity, just laughing each time off. It's very obvious she is no stranger to Wally's antics.

After lunch, Barbara and Dick walk home (as they live less than a mile from the restaurant).

She says, "I like her. Where, exactly, does Wally know her from?"

Dick shrugs. "They do some sort of after-school activity together. However, Wally refuses to tell me what it is, precisely, that they do, so I'm forced to just assume that they're international spies."

Babs smiles and punches him lightly on the shoulder. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"

Smiling bashfully, he responds, "Once or twice."

ix. news

This is Iris West-Allen reporting for Keystone News at five. Welcome, folks. This month it seems like a new league of superheroes have come onto our radar. Here you'll see some of the viewer footage we have on this new team. Now, one should notice how these aren't 'normal' superheroes- these are children! We have identified a few of the members on this team from what we have already seen: Kid Flash, the sidekick to Keystone's own Flash; Aqualad, apprentice to Aquaman; and a boy wearing the Superman symbol- Superboy, perhaps?- but who makes up the rest of this team? We are showing a photo (courtesy of Timothy Drake, thank you Mr. Drake) of one of the unknown heroes- an archer rumored to be named Artemis. Could she be the protégé of Star City's Green Arrow, or her own vigilante, roped into this new team because of a deal with the League?

This picture shows another heroine, a believed alien with powers such as flight, telekinesis, and shape-shifting. We at Keystone News theorize that she is a close relation of Martian Manhunter, another member of the Justice League.

But we want to know what you think. Why do you believe this new team has banded together? Do you think the League is irresponsible for letting their protégés operate by themselves? And what do you think will come of this team?

/

Dick is standing next to Barbara before school on December 14th, 2010, when his friend Bette tells him she's the student liaison for the new girl.

"Looks like you're no longer the newbie, kid. Congrats," she says.

He laughs. "What's her name?"

"Artemis Crock."

Dick grins at her, and then responds that she'd better go find her new student before it was too late.

/

He observes them from behind a pillar.

"Artemis? I'm Bette, your new student liaison. Welcome to Gotham Academy."

"Thanks. I'm Artemis. But, you… knew that."

Artemis is pretty, Dick can't help but notice, if not a bit insecure. She keeps tugging at her skirt like it's not long enough.

(He doesn't really blame her, either. The uniforms at Gotham A are pretty ridiculous, he must admit.)

She looks uncomfortable, and he feels for her (his own new-kid experience wasn't all that long ago) so he runs over there, pulls out his smartphone, and takes a picture with her.

"We'll laugh about this someday," he says. She grunts in surprise.

He cackles and as he runs away, he can hear Artemis ask, "Uh, who was that?"

Bette responds, "A freshmen. Ignore him."

He looks at the picture when he reaches Barbara again. "Dick? What was that about?"

He waves her question away. "Nothing, Barbara. Just being friendly to the new girl."

She rolls her eyes and they head to class.

x. tragedy

Over the next few weeks, he and Artemis become closer. She, of course, vents to him about a certain red-headed idiot and she and Barbara find common ground in a hatred of a things Wally. They're three peas in a pod, Artemis, Dick, and Barbara are. And things are great.

One day, Artemis is raving about something Wally has done or said that was wrong (something about a ninja boyfriend? He's really not sure) when she asks, "Why does he always act like this?"

Dick shrugs and says, "Maybe he likes you."

Barbara and Artemis both scoff at this, and the subject is left behind.

/

(Three weeks later, Winter Break ends with news of a kiss. A month later, they're together.)

/

He's at Wally's house when he gets the call. It's from some who works at the local hospital.

"May I talk to a… Richard Grayson?" she asks.

"Speaking," he responds. Wally asks who's on the phone. Dick shrugs and puts his finger up in the universal signal for wait a minute.

"Good afternoon, sir. I am calling to let you know that your parents, John and Mary Grayson, have been hospitalized and we need their proof of insurance. Could you bring that to us?"

His eyes widen. "I- I.. yeah, I can do that. W-when do you need it?"

She tells them the time and room number to bring it to, and Dick hangs up, frantically packing his backpack and preparing to leave.

"Hey, dude, what's the rush?" Wally asks from the other side of the room.

Dick pauses and looks at his friend, panic written over his face. "My parents are in the hospital."

And he sprints out the door.

/

By the time he gets to Memorial Hospital, an hour has passed. He can't keep still and runs all the way to intensive care unit. He's in luck, because it's still during the visiting hours, so (once he washes his hands) he is free to see his parents.

They share a room, and once he gets there, he finds out that their boss, Robert St. Claire, has shown up as well. Dick has met St. Claire a few times before, and he likes him pretty well. However, once the thirteen-year-old enters the room, Robert stands up and embraces him, and he's glad to not be alone.

/

"What happened to them?" Dick asks.

Robert sighs. "Firefly happened. He set the building on fire. We evacuated almost everyone, but since your mom is in that wheelchair…"

Dick looks down at the Styrofoam tray of hospital food. He isn't hungry. "They didn't make it out in time."

St. Claire nods, and they spend the remaining duration of the meal in silence.

/

After a week, Mary Grayson dies. Two days later, her husband follows.

/

And so Dick is thrown into the turbulent system of foster care. His current caretakers, an elderly couple named Joan and Jay Garrick, are very kind to him, but it doesn't do much to make him feel better.

There are very good friends with Wally's family, and Dick gets to see his best friend's family fairly often. They even let him continue going to Gotham A, despite the hour commute to it.

Life is pretty good, even if he misses his parents dearly. He makes the best of it.

/

He joins a martial arts studio to distract himself, and over a few months, he gets pretty good.

Of course, the whole "grew-up-as-an-acrobat" thing helps.

/

Things take an interesting turn when he turns on the television and sees a special broadcast about a new vigilante named Batgirl.

"Although she dons the Batman symbol, she appears to have no connection with the caped crusader," Cat Grant, the anchor, says. "She looks to be about fifteen or sixteen, which begs the question: why is one so young and inexperienced taking such risks?"

He stares in wonder at the television as a blurry video of this "Batgirl" replays. It's about five seconds long, but that's enough time to see her roundhouse-kick three villains in the face. She's pretty good, Dick has to admit.

But he's better. I could do that, he thinks.

And about that time is when he gets an idea, an idea that could fix everything. Of course, it won't bring back his parents, but it would do the next best thing: revenge.

And so he starts to plan.

It takes two months, sixty-eight dollars, five sewing classes, and over seven feet of fabric, but eventually he puts together a costume worthy of the Dark Knight himself. It's red, orange and yellow (but not too bright of shades) and a little reminiscent of his circus costume (the Kevlar clings to his skin to allow for agility). He even has a domino mask. His transformation is almost complete: the only thing left to do is name himself.

And a week after he finishes his uniform, he comes up with the perfect one. It's what his mom used to call him, when he was younger.

"Robin," he says, testing to see how it sounds aloud. "I like it."

And so, Gotham City gains a new vigilante.

/

It's a month before he encounters Firefly. He's been waiting for this moment for over three months, but he's still not so sure he's ready.

When Firefly first sees Dick, he laughs. "Is this the best they've got?" he chuckles. But then Robin gives him a good kick to the groin and suddenly the villain isn't laughing so hard.

"You little runt!" he yells and lunges for Dick.

And the kid puts up a good fight, but even someone as agile as he can't escape the flames and he passes out.

xii. destin

He wakes up in intense pain. His right shoulder is bandaged tightly, and doesn't so much to stop the throbbing. He tries to sit up, but it hurts too much in his sides to do so.

"Don't move around," a deep voice says from behind him. "You'll only overexert yourself."

He nods, only to wince when he feels a sharp pain on his neck, and he fades into darkness once again.

/

The next time he awakens, he manages to sit up. The first thing he notices is that he's alone. The second is that he's not in the hospital.

Then where is he?

He's in a room with a single overhead light and concrete walls. A single chair sits in the far corner. It's white, very white, and the only routes of escape seem to be a miniscule air duct centered on the ceiling and the metal door directly in front of him.

Suddenly, the door opens and an older suited gentlemen walks in. The man seems surprised that Dick is conscious.

"Ah! You're awake," he says in a proper British accent. "I'll go alert the Master immediately."

He puts a silver tray filled with medication on a small table that Dick hadn't noticed before and leaves. Before the man closes the door, the boy tries to get a look at the place beyond his room.

He doesn't see much. All he can see is darkness and a high ceiling.

/

The "Master," as it turns out, is billionaire Bruce Wayne. Dick's surprised, to say the least.

"How did you find me?" Dick asks once the initial shock has faded.

Wayne and the other man, who had introduced himself as Alfred, exchange a look. Finally, Bruce answers, "An acquaintance of mine dropped you off. We've been taking care of you ever since. Listen, Richard-"

"I go by Dick," he says. "I thought you'd know that, since you've obviously read my file."

(The truth is that he has a bit of pent up aggression toward Bruce Wayne ever since his parents died at his company/ Dick knows that Wayne had nothing to do with the attack, but that does nothing to stop the feelings.)

"I've read what I must. And I know what you've been doing these past few months. Look, Dick, I realize the appeal of back-flipping over rooftops, but it's dangerous, especially for a child of your age."

"How?" He asks. "How do you know? That man- Firefly- killed my parents. They were the only ones to ever care about me. So how can you tell me what I'm feeling?"

Dick realizes how irrationally angry he's being. He doesn't care.

Bruce sighs, dismisses Alfred and pulls a chair up next to the boy, sitting down. "Look, kid. Trust me on this one; I know what you're going through. When I was nine years old, I witnessed my parents getting mugged. They were killed in front of my eyes."

Dick's eyes grow wide, and the man continues.

"I was so angry. If it weren't for Alfred's care and wisdom, I don't know where I'd be today. Luckily, I learned to channel my anger into martial arts. Over time, I got good at it, real good. And yet, the immense anger I had felt still lingered.

"It was directly after college that I made my decision: I was going to parole Gotham's streets and make sure that nothing like what happened to my parents occurred never again.

"And that is how Batman was born."

For a moment, Dick is really confused. Then the fog begins to clear and the befuddlement turns into bewilderment. "Why are you telling me this?"

Bruce exhales. "Because, Dick," he says with a small grin. "I've seen you. You're good. But you're not good enough to survive on the streets of Gotham. So this is what I'm offering to you: keep my secrets, and I'll train you to be the best vigilante you can be." And his heart leaps.

Dick is already smiling largely, but then he says, "What will I tell my foster parents?"

Bruce shrugs. "Oh, you don't have to." Then he holds up an official-looking document. "I've already started the adoption process."

And, even though it hurts like hell, Dick has to give the man a hug.

/

(Five weeks pass, and when he moves out of Joan and Jay's house, the farewell is only slightly sad.)

/

As he stands by his mentor a year later, he wonders if, had his parents died that day in the circus, he'd be in the same place as he is now. He doesn't know. Won't ever know, really.

"Today's the day," he tells Batman.

And that's how it starts.

/

amor fati / latin / love of fate