This is a story of a bird, who cried a river and drowned the whole world...
Nah, just kidding. This is a story about Robin.
Disclaimer: Don't own Young Justice
"Sir, we have finished the DNA enhancement. All tests have come back positive."
"Good. Alert Doctor Desmond."
"Of course, sir. When should he proceed?"
"We need a subject first. I'm thinking hero."
"A hero, sir?"
"Yes, that is what I said."
"Sir, won't one be hard to capture?"
"A sidekick then. A human one, one without powers: the procedure requires pure human DNA."
"Of course, sir, but how will be get a sidekick?"
"We won't have to. They will come to us."
"But how-?"
"Set the upper levels on fire. I know who I want."
oOo
Dick Grayson balanced precariously on a chair, his arm stretched high above his head, wobbling slightly as he tried to keep his footing on the tips of his pristine shoes. Why did he have to be so short? He asked himself angrily, attempting a lunging grab that almost ended in a face plant into the floor. He couldn't even reach a stupid textbook. Textbooks should be within student reach if teachers ever expected students to use them. Even if said students were vertically challenged. Of course, Robin would have no problems whatsoever of retrieving the textbook, but Dick Grayson wasn't Robin. Dick Grayson had to act like any other thirteen year old kid, even if it meant resorting to standing on tip-toes for twenty minutes while he fruitlessly tried to reach a cabinet that, with a little acrobatics, could be reached in seconds. Multiple identities suck.
Sighing in momentary defeat, Dick relaxed from his extended position and hopped down from the chair, loosening the red around his neck, tempted to rid himself of the annoying accessory and accompanying blue blazer altogether. He crossed the small supply room and yanked open the only resident window, coughing slightly as a small cloud of dust engulfed his face. How long had it been since that thing had been opened? How long had it been since someone had even been in this room? Judging from the dust that accumulated on nearly every surface, it had been far too long in Dick's opinion.
The summer sun shone brightly through the foggy window, casting shadows and displaying all the dust that was now floating around in the air. Dick sighed, leaning against the counter in front of the window, tugging at his tie again as the sun made the already stifling room almost unbearable hot. And why was Dick inside on a summer day, extracting old textbooks from dusty, unused rooms? School was why. And why would anyone be worried about school over summer vacation? Because Dick Grayson was smart; smarter than all the other kids his age, though that was hardly a reason to study over the summer. No, the reason Dick Grayson was in school, studying over summer vacation was because he was trying to enter Gotham Academy a year early at the age of thirteen. And apparently being genius level intellect and a straight "A" and the top of his class by practically a mile wasn't enough. In order for Dick Grayson to enter into Gotham Academy the coming school year he had to prove himself ready by taking classes over the summer to demonstrate his "above-average work ethic and appreciation for the finer points of education". Come again? No, Dick Grayson didn't really care for the finer points of education. Not anymore.
Sighing, the Gotham school made his way back over to the unconquerable cabinet. Throwing a glance around the room Dick's cobalt eyes landed on a stack of boxes in the corner. The sides of his mouth turned up and, with an eerie cackle, he quickly picked one of the biggest ones up. It was empty, thank goodness, but Dick only hoped it would his weight. He placed strategically on its head, the top resting on the seat of the chair he'd been standing on previously; hopefully positioned this way would maximize the amount of weight it could hold. Dick carefully picked his way onto the top of the make-shift tower, wincing as the box sagged slightly went he stepped on it, but he let out a deep breath as it withheld its shape. Finally! He thought, opening the cabinet and reaching for the textbook, when the sounds of a door opening reached his ears. Dick whirled, Robin instincts taking over, as the door to the supply room swung open revealing a young, red-headed girl with something of a smirk on her face.
"Hey, Shortstop, watcha doing?"
Unfortunately for Dick, his make-shift tower hadn't been as sturdy as he'd hoped, for the sudden motion of his spin sent the box twisting out from under the boy's feet, sending him crashing to the floor. The girl burst out laughing, Dick's face turning a deep shade of scarlet to match her hair.
"Shut up, Babs." He growled, pushing him himself to his feet. That girl had some nerve laughing at the Robin, he thought, regretfully knowing that she had no idea that's who she was laughing at.
"You trying to reach something, shorty?" She said, putting on a pouty face.
"I hate you, you know that?"
"You wish you could hate me." She laughed, crossing the room and nimbly hopping onto the chair, kicking the dilapidated box off, and gracefully retrieving the textbook, which was, aggravating, within her reach. She leaped down, and held out the book to Dick, smiling smugly as she made a great show of looking down at him. It's not like she was that much taller than him! Only a few inches. Besides, she was a year older….
"Thanks." He spat out grudgingly, attempting to rip the book out of her hands, but she pulled it away at the last second.
"Eh eh eh, where's your manners?" Barbara taunted, waving the book high above her head, just out of his reach. "What would Alfred say if he saw you right now?"
"He'd say, 'Dick, go kick her butt'." Dick mumbled, turning even redder, if possible, at the mention of his butler.
"Dick!" Barbara gasped, pretending to be offended. "That was rude!" She hit him on the head with the textbook, before dropping it into his arms and stomping out the door, her nose held in the air.
Dick quickly shoved the book in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder and hurried after her. He caught up to her as they neared the door that led into the school courtyard near the entrance. He noticed she was dressed in her Gotham Academy uniform like he was; it made him wonder what she'd be doing in school at this time during the year. She was a year older than him and was already on the list for the Academy; there was no cause for her to take summer classes.
"So Babs, why're you in school on this fine summer day?" He asked, moving ahead to hold the door open for her. Rude, psh, he'd show her.
"I could ask the same of you, Shortstop." Shortstop. The name had nothing to do with baseball.
"I, my fair maiden, am learning of the 'finer points of education', and displaying my 'above-average work ethic'."
"Still trying to skip that grade?" Barbara asked, knowing of his previous attempts at trying to move up into her class. He'd always been far ahead of the rest of his class, but the teachers had refused to move him up, despite the fact that he'd aced nearly all his subjects, with minimal studying, mind you, for the past few years. He was never told flat out, but he knew it because the teachers thought he wasn't mature enough to be with kids a year older than him. He was already small in his own grade, and moving up a grade wouldn't help that. Finally, though, Bruce had talked to them and they'd agreed.
"For your information, Babs, I am skipping that grade. I just have to take a couple classes to prove to them that I'm ready. Like my near-perfect grades don't already prove that."
Barbara just laughed again, giving Dick a light shove. "Nerd."
"Shut up." Then, remembering his first question: "So, why are you here? You're obviously not as smart as me, so you wouldn't be moving up a grade."
"No, I'm not a school obsessed nerd with no life like some." If only she knew. "I'm just here scouting out the gym for the gymnastics team. I'm hoping to make the varsity team."
Dick snorted. "Was there ever any doubt you wouldn't?"
"Dick!" She protested, giving him a light hit on the head. Dick smirked, pushing her hand away as she tried to mess up his neatly gelled hair. The continued like that, Barbara trying to get her hands on Dick's head as he tried to avoid her, until they reached the front gate where a black luxury car stalled, an elderly man behind the wheel.
"So Dick," Barbara asked, finally giving up on messing up his hair. "Are you doing anything this week?"
"Umm, sorry Babs," He replied, glancing at Alfred who was giving him a rather annoyed look. He'd taken longer than he'd originally expected, seeing as he'd had some textbook problems. Or height problems, whichever one preferred. "I'm kinda busy this week." He finished regretfully, thinking of Batman's promise to him.
"It's okay, maybe next week?"
"Yeah, next week maybe." He watched her as she retreated to where her father's police car waited, her red hair bouncing on her back and her pathetically short skirt swishing back and forth. He continued staring as she got in the car and it drove off, leaving a pale cloud of gray smoke behind. Then Alfred cleared his throat expectantly, giving him a meaningful look. Dick turned away quickly, opening the door and climbing in.
"Good class today, Master Richard?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry I was late Al, had a bit of a problem, um, getting a textbook." He refrained from saying reaching.
oOo
When Dick got home, he immediately set to work finishing his small amount of homework he had for his pre-calculus class. His previous school hadn't offered math past Algebra II, so he since he already had to take two classes over the summer, he'd thought he might as well take pre-calc since he wanted to take calculus in the fall.
Getting his homework done before tomorrow was a priority as Batman only said he'd fulfill his promise if Dick finished his homework. At the thought of Batman's promise, Dick shivered slightly in excitement. Or was that Robin shivering in excitement? The promise did, after all, involve the Justice League which was clearly Robin's domain. Finally, he'd be trusted with one of the League's biggest secrets! Or so they thought it was one of their biggest secrets. It had taken Dick only a few days of being Batman's side- partner- to discover the location of their headquarters- their real headquarters, no the tourist spot. And now he was going to get his first look at it.
He reached for another one of Alfred's cookies, which Alfred made in a special way for him, fantasizing once again at what it would be like. Of course Kid Flash, Aqualad and Speedy would be there too, but he was relieved; it would be extremely nerve-wracking to go alone. Not that the Boy Wonder ever showed fear….
"Master Richard, are finished with your homework?" Alfred's voice drifted in from somewhere in the vast mansion.
"Almost, Al." Homework, right. Focus, Grayson, focus. He bent back over his paper, biting the end of his pencil as his brain shifted into math gear. Barbara always told him that was one of his only gears. He told her to shut up. The sound of the front door opening broke Dick away from his work again as the sound of heavy footsteps and a coat being hung a hook reached his ears. Bruce.
"Hey Bruce," Dick called when the billionaire walked into the more showy part of the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his white shirt.
"Hello, Dick." He replied, passing by and ruffling Dick's hair, messing up the perfectly gelled style.
"Too much gel, Dick. Your hair feels like plastic." Typical Bruce. He was very particular about how Dick styled his hair for school.
"Well, someone wasn't here to help me this morning."
Bruce only grunted, reaching for a glass in the cupboard as Alfred walked in, carrying a tray from the area of the kitchen that was used for cooking, not showing off.
"Ah, Master Bruce, you're home. I presume you had a productive day?"
"It was alright, Alfred." Dick's guardian replied, heading towards the room Alfred came from with his glass in hand. Alfred, however, snatched it out of his hand; setting down his tray which Dick now saw had more cookies on it.
"Allow me, Master Bruce."
"Thanks, Alfred." Bruce collapsed into a chair across from Dick as Alfred disappeared into the other room. Dick could tell that the businessman was tired, exhausted even. He's left early that morning, before Dick had gotten up, and gone to a meeting in downtown Gotham after a late night patrolling as the Batman. The playboy billionaire let out a sigh, propping his elbows on the table and putting his head in his hands.
As much as Dick wished he'd talk to him, he knew that the man was running on empty, so he dutifully turned his attention back to his homework, reaching for a hot cookie from the new tray. Bruce could eat the cold ones, or else Alfred could recycle them or something. Could one recycle cookies? Dick wondered, turning his over in hand, running possible cookie recycling scenarios through his head. Recycling. Did that mean that when one recycled something they were simply cycling it again? That actually made sense, Dick concluded, for when Alfred made cookies he kind of went through a cycle. First he mixed the butter, sugar and eggs, then added flour, vanilla and whatever he used to make them so good, and finally he baked them. It was definitely a cycle, Dick decided, so for one to recycle cookies, one would simply go through that cycle again? But wouldn't one have to break down the cookies into their base components first? Was that even chemically possible? When one baked a cookie was chemical change or physical change taking place? Maybe it wasn't possible to recycle cookies…. Well, maybe Martian Manhunter could, with is telekinetic powers, or Warp could simply rewind to before the ingredients were mixed in the first place, but that was cheating-
"Dick, are you going to eat that cookie, or just stare at it? I really don't think it resembles Barbara Gordon in any way…."
"Bruce!" Dick exclaimed, blushing furiously as he shoved the cookie into his mouth, averting his eyes to his math paper. Why did he have to be so observative? It seemed that the man thought Dick had some sort of crush on the redhead, which was most definitely not the case, but he brought it up just to tease him. Dick looked up to see Bruce raising a questioning eyebrow at, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"I wasn't staring at the cookie!" Dick protested, but Bruce only pretended to nod knowingly. Dick scowled, crossing his arms in a childish manner and faking a pout. Then, suddenly remember what he'd been mulling over the last few minutes:
"Bruce, does cookie baking result in chemical or physical change?" Dick was now sitting up straight, his previous embarrassment forgotten as he looked expectantly to his guardian for an answer. When Bruce gave him a slightly taken look (though this was a typical question he could expect to receive from Dick, so he really shouldn't be all that surprised anymore), he continued:
"Well, I mean physical change can generally be undone, while chemical change can't, so if cookie baking resulted in only physical change then one could theoretically recycle a cookie, cause recycle means basically cycling something again, or so the prefix implies, and when one bakes cookies they go through a cycle, so in order to recycle a cookie one would have to go through the cycle again, which would mean the cookie would have to be reverted to its base components, or ingredients, and that could only happen if it went through only physical change. If it went through chemical change than it would be virtually impossible to revert it back, cause chemical change means that it can't be undone, but maybe Martian Manhunter could do, or Warp, but that would be cheating. Do you think Martian Manhunter can undo chemical change, cause I really don't know the full extent of his powers, but you probably do and-"
"Dick?" Bruce finally managed to get in. "Is this what you were thinking about when you were staring at the cookie?" He asked, smiling a bit more now at his wards antics.
"Um, yeah. So, my question is, cookie baking: chemical or physical. Oh, and can Martian Manhunter undo chemical change?"
"Well," Bruce started slowly, "Chemical change, more precisely stated than simply being irreversible, involves a color change, a gas given off, a precipitate formed or a large energy change. So, that would mean…" He prompted, looking across the table at the boy whose face was now scrunched up in concentration.
"Cookies brown on top; color change." Dick began, his brain churning. "I think there's a chemical reaction involved, resulting in the cookies rising and giving off C02 gas; that's obviously gas being given off…."
"And the denaturation of the egg and milk and flour protein." Bruce added.
"Makes it a chemical change without a question," Dick finished, his face falling slightly at the revelation. It did not appear that could cookies could be recycled. It also seemed that someone would have to eat the cold ones. Unless of course Alfred reheated them or something, but that wasn't nearly as riveting as the prospect of recycling them.
"And as for whether Martian Manhunter can reverse chemical change: you'll have to ask him yourself." Bruce stood up, pulling off his tie completely and setting his empty cup, which Dick hadn't noticed Alfred bring back, on the counter. Bruce looked down at him expectantly.
"Homework done?"
"Um, well, didn't I just have a chemistry lesson or something?" Dick asked, loath to finish his math now that Bruce was obviously preparing to go into the Batcave. Bruce gave a not-quite-batglare, more of a Bruce Wayne glare (still rather unnerving if one wasn't use to it). "Fine." Dick sighed, "I'm almost done, so don't do anything cool without me."
"We'll see." Bruce chuckled with a mischievous grin, briskly exiting the room and making his way towards the old clock in the study, tossing his tie over a chair on his way out.
"Bruce!"
oOo
Fifteen minutes later found Dick, now dressed as Robin, hovering around the Bat-computer as Bruce, now Batman, brought up some files of recent news reports. They were all on a villain named Mister Freeze who'd been spotted around the parks of Gotham earlier that day and the day previous, though until that afternoon hadn't been causing trouble. He'd broken his streak of innocence when he'd attempted to freeze a couple walking through the park earlier that day, but the couple were more agile than they appeared and had managed to get away. Commissioner Gordon had called for the ice villains arrest and he was now being tracked through Gotham, though no one had had any luck finding him yet. But now Batman was prepared to change that.
"So, we go out, catch this guy, hand him over to the police. Piece of cake." Robin said with a hint of annoyance. Why did this guy have to choose now to strike? He wondered angrily. If Icee wasn't caught by tomorrow then Robin would miss Batman's promise. Robin scowled at the idea. This guy was so getting caught.
"Robin, we must proceed cautiously." Batman reminded, wanting to subdue his fiery partner.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But we can proceed cautiously and speedily."
"I take it you're excited for tomorrow then?" This was Bruce Wayne talking. Batman never showed this kind of emotion. Robin only nodded, attempting to be as impassive as his mentor. If Batman smiled, he would have right then, but as it was he only turned back to his computer, running through the files again and smiling inwardly at the young boy.
oOo
"Come on, come on." Robin urged quietly from his perch on the roof of an apartment complex. His feet were beginning to fall asleep from being in his current position for so long and there were a thousand itches he desperately wanted to scratch. But, as was the case with stakeouts, he had to remain as still as humanly, or un-humanly he thought wryly, possible so itching was out of the question. If only stupid Mister Freezey or whatever would show his face, they could wrap this up and go home. Normally, Robin loved going on patrol, even if it involved itchy stakeouts, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with that could potentially get in the way of Batman's promise. And this Ice Villain definitely counted.
They'd been staking out an apparent target of his for two hours, waiting for him to show his face. Apparently he was after a rather large diamond (typical) which was in possession of one of the owners of the apartments upon which Robin crouched, though why anyone with a stupid rock that valuable would live in a cruddy old apartment was beyond the Boy Wonder. The police were seemingly tipped off by a man who'd defected from Mister Freeze's legion of duped thugs after he learned of the villain's cold demeanor. It was to be expected. Villains rarely held anybody's loyalty for long, as they were prone to eradicating any of their force at a moment's notice.
A flash of color caught Robin's eye from across the street, or rather the glare of light reflecting of something clear and shiny- something like a helmet. Pushing the button on his utility belt which would alert Batman to his find, Robin cautiously crept along the roof trying to catch a glimpse of whatever he'd seen previously. Judging from the light reflection it had given off, it seemed plausible to assume that it came from Mister Icee's helmet. There! There it was again, disappearing behind the apartment mirroring Robin's. The acrobat shot his grappling gun across the narrow alley-like road, waiting until it latched onto the roof of the apartment opposite him, and swung over, landing nimbly on the on the gravel strewn rooftop. Crouching low, Robin scurried across to the other side and peered cautiously over the edge into another alley.
Sure enough, Mister Freeze and a gang of hoods were not-so-stealthily picking their way along the street, appearing to be making a beeline to a more high class apartment than the ones Robin had been hanging around the top of. They seemed to be oblivious to the fact that they were making an incredible amount of noise, running into garbage cans and babbling rather loudly under their breath. Freezey wasn't even trying to keep them in check, his eyes, behind his astronaut-like helmet, were firmly fixed on his target. Then again, the ice villain's suit didn't appear to be designed for stealth, what with the clunky body armor and giant tank on his back. He made a slight raucous simply walking and Robin was surprised he hadn't been caught yet.
Robin quickly assessed the situation: Freezey had eight other ruffians with him, three of whom were outright carrying guns while the others were armed with clubs, bludgeons or metal pipes, though probably had firearms on their person somewhere. Monsieur Ice-man himself was carrying an extremely heavy looking machinegun-like weapon which the Boy Wonder knew was capable of firing ice. Eight. Batman and Robin could easily take down eight, especially seeing as these particular eight seemed pathetically under trained, judging from their practically non-existent stealth skills. Freezey never joined up with any serial killers or mass murderers; he wasn't a cold blooded killer like most of Gotham's villain population as his motives involved saving lives, mostly his and his frozen wife's, so he'd never sunk that low. Which was perfectly fine with Robin.
Icee himself might prove a bit of an issue, Robin thought, but he and Batman had taken him down before and he didn't seem to be doing so hot, if his back up was anything to go by. Robin pressed the small earpiece in his ear, waiting until he heard Batman's gruff voice on the other end, telling him he'd received his coordinates and was concealed behind a chimney on the roof of the apartment in question.
"Take it slow, don't underestimate him." Was all Robin was given by way of instruction, but it was more than enough. He saw briefly the corner of a black cape as Batman moved into position. The Boy Wonder crept over to the very edge of the roof, crouching down and checking himself in preparation for a fight. What came next was Robin's favorite part of his job. This will be good, he thought as Mister Freeze neared the entrance to the apartment. The villain extracted something from somewhere in his cyro-suit and was heading to pick the lock when a dark shadow fell over him and the outline of Gotham's vigilante flashed by his face. Batman had leapt from the roof, his cape splayed out as he landed in front of the ice villain. Batman's gravelly voice echoed softly throughout the alley, causing Robin to smirk in excitement.
"Not today, Freeze." He ground out, throwing a batarang at the villains raised ice-gun. Most of his thug's faces quickly turned into masks of terror, they'd obviously not been expecting a visit from the Bat, and they abruptly pivoted and took off. My turn, Robin thought gleefully. He launched himself from his perch on the roof with a cackle, straight over the street, plummeting quickly towards the ground. He turned two flips before landing directly in front of the foremost fleeing hoodlum.
"Going somewhere?" He asked casually, pulling out two batarangs. The men blanched and Robin gave them a devious smile before leaping at one who'd recovered faster than the others and thought it a good idea to try to attack the Boy Wonder. Note: not good idea.
The man threw a punch which Robin easily dodged and quickly downed the man with a roundhouse kick to the head. Too easy, he thought, handspringing to the next man. As he dodged and weaved futile and rather lame attempts at hitting him, he threw a glance over to where Batman was battling Freezey. The ice wielding man was doing his best to hit the Bat with a shot of ice, but Robin was happy to see his mentor easily dancing out of his way, obviously infuriating the man.
Suddenly a fist came out of nowhere and clipped Robin in the jaw, jerking his head painfully backwards and causing his neck to pop. Not cool. Instead of trying to bring his weight forwards again, Robin used the momentum from the punch and back handspringed away from his attacker, successfully taking out a crowbar wielding hood. Jeepers, Robin hated crowbars. Jeepers? He was spending way too much time with Alfred. Surveying the scene, Robin found only five guys left, though obviously they were they better trained ones. If any of them were even trained at all.
They finally seemed to see that attacking individually wasn't going too hot for them and by some unspoken agreement, all rushed forward at the same time. Suddenly a shot went off and Robin immediately ducked, feeling the bullet ruffle his hair. It seemed they could actually use those guns. Spinning around, Robin quickly knocked the gun out of the unsuspecting bearers hand; he seemed to have thought he hit the boy. His mistake. Another bullet was fired, this one from the guy immediately to Robin's left, but the aim was off and missed the young vigilante by almost a foot.
Robin leaped infuriatingly around the thugs, letting them think they'd gotten him, and then leaping out of their way at the last second. He cackled eerily as he took out another one, grabbing his weapon and chucking it down the street. One managed to land a solid punch on the boy's arm, but he'd left his hand behind for too long and soon had a least a badly bruised wrist from a right-handed chop. Another possessed enough brain power to figure out that he weighed almost two hundred pounds more than the small, lithe acrobat and nearly managed the suffocate Robin by falling on him, but the vigilante had pinched a pressure point, sending the hunk of a man shooting to his feet in pain. Most had either lost their guns or given up using them as they only ended up hitting each other and within a few minutes all eight of the men lay on the ground senseless or bound up.
Robin retrieved one of his eskrima sticks which had been knocked from his grip by one of the hoods and sprinted over to where Batman and Freezey were still engaged in intense combat. Robin suddenly had the urge cheer wildly, wave a flag with Batman's logo on it, and generally act like a crazed fan a sporting event. He refrained, though, and instead pulled out another batarang and leaped up, landing deftly on the helmet of the ice villain. He jabbed the batarangs quickly into the seams around the edges of the helmet, laughing:
"Miss me, Freezey?"
"Boy Blunder." He sighed, sounding annoyed. His voice was echo-y almost, from the helmet and he sounded like he had a sore throat, per usual.
"Catch a cold, Icee?" He asked, flipping off as the ice gun came barreling towards his head. He landed in a crouch next to his mentor who stood in battle position. "Get it, cause cold like sick, and you're an ice villain?" Robin asked, jumping out of the way as a blast from the ice gun forced the Dynamic Duo apart.
"Yes, I get it." Mister Freeze answered, his voice showing he was tired of the Boy Wonder's jokes. But, come on, he had some good ones!
Mister Freeze began shooting blasts of ice at Robin, forcing him to continuously fling himself out of the way. Batman, using Freeze's momentary distraction, snuck behind him, intending to shove a batarang in his helmet. Robin, seeing what Batman was doing, sprang up onto a stack of crates, waving impishly at the ice villain. Mister Freeze fired a heavy blast a Robin, who only moved at the last minute, leaping straight up and over the stream of ice, the crates where he'd been only a moment ago, coated in it. However, Freeze seemed to have been expecting such a reaction from Robin and next thing the boy new, he felt a sharp pain in upper arm, which was soon replaced by frigid cold. Robin tumbled to the concrete, rolling to reduce the impact of landing, managing to roll back to his feet, only to see Freezey shoot a blast at Batman, forcing the vigilante to throw himself behind the corner of a wall. Robin watched as the ice villain turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness, calling after over his shoulder:
"Maybe some other time, then." They'd lost him. Great.
There it is! The first chapter! Its really long, so I don't think my other ones will be as long... Next chapter will have some of the team in it!
Review pretty please and tell me your thoughts!
Alex out.