I Specialize in Crazy

Part 1

I can't really tell you how I figured it out, but I did. What I can tell you (even though I shouldn't) is that Dick Greyson is Robin.

I go to Gothem Academy. That's how I know Dick, we're both gymnast/acrobats, but neither of us was on the team. I go to the gym to hone my skills. Dick was much better than me, that's a given, and he would be there sometimes to practice himself, or to help me learn some new things. Looking back now, he probably had other places to practice and I honestly don't know why he would spend that time with me.

We became semi-friends freshman year. We had a few classes together and he wasn't completely unfriendly to me. Sophomore year we didn't talk as much, but I think he just had a lot on his plate, so did I but that's another story.

Now, it's Junior year and we've limited our talking to our mutual time in the gym, which on average is twice a week. I understand why though. During the school day we run in different circles, he's one of the preps (surprising right) and I'm one of the scholarship kids. Those groups rarely mix, but when it's just us, things change. We just talk about anything, everything and nothing all at the same time. I've come to really enjoy that time.

About two months ago we were in the gym like normal. Someone had broken some of the equipment earlier that day by accident and it was still in its spot in need of repair. I was trying a trick Dick had taught me the week before, but I slipped and I went falling toward the broken equipment.

Dick went into Robin mode and saved me from impaling myself on the sharp edge. His shirt ripped in a way that exposed his defined chest, and before he held it closed I saw a scar on his stomach.

To most people a simple scar wouldn't be a big clue, but I have experience with different types of scars. The one I saw was much different than one from a surgery as would be assumed from a stomach wound. It was partially covered as if he used concealer or foundation to hide it. It was also jagged, like it was inflicted with a partially serrated knife.

That night I started digging. Some of my evidence was facts, other evidence was deductive reasoning, but to me the only logical conclusion was that Dick Greyson was Robin.

This week I decided that cloak and dagger simply wasn't my style. Looking back now it probably wasn't the best idea to simply say that I knew he was Boy Wonder while he was spotting me during a new trick. He was so shocked that he didn't catch me when I had a misstep. I fell in a very uncomfortable way.

"I'm sorry Lana, you caught me off guard." He helped me up from the floor. I began to stand, but couldn't put weight on my left ankle. I hissed in pain.

"I can't stand on it." Instead of having me lean on him and helping me to the bleachers, he picked me up with one arm under my knees and the other around my back. I made an inhuman sound and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You amuse me Lana. Why would you think I was Robin?" He scoffed slightly.

"Give me one legitimate reason as to why you're not," I countered. He set me down on the bleachers and kneeled in front of me to look at my ankle. While he was checking it over he came up with reasons as to why he wasn't Robin. I countered them all.

"I know you're Robin because you've been pushing me to believe otherwise in panic, not pity. A normal person would feel sorry that I'm so deluded, but there's panic in your actions. Don't try to hide it: I've seen panic to many times. I was the family lie detector, I haven't been fooled yet."

He kept his eyes on my ankle refusing to look up. I placed my hand on his. He didn't look up, but he grasped my hand in his.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm really good at keeping secrets. I've been doing it a long time." He looked at me with his lovely blue eyes.

"If Batman finds out you know, he'll have my head." His voice was light, but I could sense the underlying seriousness. He put an instant cold pack on my injured ankle. I sent him a small smile in thanks.

"Dick, I've stuck around for three years. Would I really leave now? You can talk to me about anything, even the hero stuff." I took a sip from my water bottle. Dick got off the ground and sat next to me. He propped my ankle on his lap. I rolled my eyes and pulled him a little closer so that my leg was resting across his lap and my foot was on the seat next to him.

"You don't know what you're signing up for." He shook his head slightly. I ran my hand through his hair.

"Robin, believe me when I say this; I specialize in crazy."