A/N: Thanks for the comments and reviews Psyche Castle, Blas, Batman Dude, Owan, Heathglen, Carl and Jokerfan2011! It's good to be back. :-)
FYI: My False Face is based on the one from the TV show - his "real" face is just another mask. You know, that weird plastic base mask that scared little kids and didn't allow his face to show any expression. However, he does have facial expression ability when disguised as a different person. I have no idea why a villain would put a mask over a mask but...it is from the TV show. ;-)
Chapter 1:
The next morning:
"Be good, be nice and don't show off," Bruce instructed his ward as they, along with Alfred, stood on the wooden platform of the transportation depot and waited for the camp bus to arrive. Taking a quick glance around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, he added in a whisper, "And no Robin, no matter what." Expecting some kind of snappy response to the last statement, Bruce was surprised when Dick looked up at him with apprehension radiating from his expressive eyes.
"I don't know how to be a rich kid, Bruce," Dick sounded as worried as he looked. "What if nobody likes me? What if I seem like an idiot to them?"
Bruce hid a smile, "I thought you didn't care about making friends."
Dick's eyes were wide with concern, "I don't! But I don't want to be shunned, either!"
Bruce couldn't stop his grin this time, "You'll be fine. Nobody's going to shun you. They are all thirteen- and fourteen-year-old kids, just like you."
"But most of them probably already know each other! What if I'm the only one…" Dick was beginning to sound a little panicked so Bruce put both of his hands on his ward's tense shoulders.
"Dick, you'll be fine. I bet you'll have two or three friends, or at least acquaintances, by the time you get to the camp. You will be fine. Okay?"
Dick looked at the ground, watching the early morning sun skipping around on the colorful rocks that littered the dirt landscape. He knew he wasn't going to be "fine" but he nodded anyway.
Bruce saw the expression on Dick's face and recognized the scared little kid that he had taken in two years ago. He moved his right hand down to his ward's chin and lifted it so he could see his face.
"It'll be fun," he said gently, "and six weeks will be over before you know it. Just be yourself. People will like the real Dick Grayson, not some kid trying to be somebody else."
"Okay, kids, let's go, last goodbyes are over! Everyone onto the bus!" Mike called as the fancy travel bus pulled to a stop alongside the platform.
Dick sighed, grabbed his two black duffel bags and turned to load them into the storage area at the bottom of the bus. With one last, anxious glance over his shoulder, he climbed up the three stairs and chose a window seat in the back. Nineteen other kids began climbing on and finding places to sit. Loud chattering sounds were coming from every part of the bus…except the three spots next to him. Glancing out the large rectangle of glass, Dick gave a small wave to Bruce and Alfred then faced forward and tried to smile at the other kids, many of whom gazed condescendingly at him before sitting down. The last two teens to enter were both tall boys who were so caught up in talking to each other that they didn't even see Dick as they took the seats in front of him. His small form got lost behind them and he stared at the backs of their heads as they lowered their voices to a whisper.
"I heard there's a new kid this year – Dick Grayson," the boy with the blonde hair murmured. "He's Bruce Wayne's charity case, something about his circus family being killed and Wayne feeling bad for him."
The taller, dark-haired boy laughed quietly, "A circus brat and a charity case? This'll be entertaining!" He opened a bag of something and both boys started crunching loudly while leaning back in their seats.
Dick immediately regretted the soft sigh that escaped, a horrid stench assaulting his nostrils as he drew in the air needed to produce the barely audible sound. The smell of whatever the boys were eating was nauseating – like old socks covered in skunk spray. He rolled his eyes and attempted to breathe only through his mouth without outwardly plugging his nose. The next six hours were, apparently, going to be a lesson on how to control his breathing.
The mocking words began to echo in his mind and Dick ran his left hand through his dark hair. Robin's "break" was off to a great start. He already had two enemies and he hadn't even spoken to anyone yet. You're right, Bruce, this is going to be a lot of fun.
Bruce watched the glistening silver bus pull away into the morning sun, leaving the distinctive odor of exhaust lingering in its place. Dick would be fine – he had easily made friends at school and Bruce was sure he would be able to quickly make friends at the camp. His ward was easy-going, smart and had a great sense of humor. Rich kids were still just kids. He would be fine. A little tingle of worry settled itself into Batman's brain but Bruce dismissed it to the back of his mind. He was being paranoid. Dick could take care of himself, even if he wasn't allowed to be Robin. He'll be fine. There are ten adults and the camp is secluded. He'll be fine. The words were reassuring but the memory of the anxious look on his young ward's face was not. He shook his head slightly then looked over at Alfred, "He'll be fine."
Six hours later:
False Face watched the camp bus round the final corner and come to a stop at the front of the circular driveway. Twenty little seventh and eighth graders came scrambling out and lined up for roll call. Feet were stomping on the ground, hands were rubbing together and cheeks were turning pink as the teenage bodies attempted to acclimate themselves to the brisk mountain air. The last one out was a small but strong-looking kid who seemed very familiar to False Face. The man walked over to the boy's end of the row as the counselors also lined up for introductions and, standing across from the teen, immediately recognized the dark hair and blue eyes of Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's ward. False Face mentally scowled at the memory of his unsuccessful attempt to kidnap the kid a year ago. Outwardly, though, he grinned. He had complete access to the boy who belonged to the wealthiest man in Gotham City without having to go through the trouble of trying to abduct him! The villain decided to use Dick near the end, when the drug was perfected. What a great way to get close to the rich socialites – using the quiet yet engaging little ward of the millionaire.
"…and Dick Grayson," Mike called out, his right hand ready to check off the "present" box on his attendance chart. Immediately, nineteen youthful heads turned in the new kid's direction, waiting to hear him speak.
Dick nervously raised his hand and tried to keep his voice steady, "I'm here, sir." He kept his head up and tried to look confident but inside his heart was pounding and he wasn't even close to being sure of himself.
A few of the teens giggled because nobody had ever called Mike "sir" and the camp director sighed internally. He had been fielding calls about Dick Grayson for almost two weeks. Some of the parents had threatened to send their kids to a different camp if "that teenage gold-digger" was permitted to be at Vista Peak. Somehow, Mike had convinced the angry parents that everything would be fine and most of them had finally agreed to allow their teens to attend.
Everyone was staring at Dick. They all knew he was the ward of Bruce Wayne and that made him interesting. But they also all knew that he was from the circus and, according to some of their parents, that made him "conniving" and "shady". Many of the kids had been strictly instructed to stay away from him so that he wouldn't be able to "take advantage" of them. Dick was finally saved from the stares when the counselors began introducing themselves.
"I'm John and I'm the head chef. I've worked at several notable restaurants, including The Royal Mushroom Club in Gotham City. I'm sure you will be completely satisfied with the cuisine I will be providing." False Face tried to smile engagingly as he looked down the row of kids. His eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed Grayson studying him carefully but he immediately corrected the expression. He couldn't afford any mistakes.
Dick stared at the man across from him. The shape of his face and the way he moved his hands when he spoke seemed familiar, as did the slightly nasal sound of his voice. But, he and Bruce had been to The Royal Mushroom Club several times and the food was always delicious. Maybe they had asked to speak to the chef in order to give him their compliments.
Mentally shrugging at the vague feeling of familiarity, Dick turned back to the bus to grab his bags when he noticed everyone else start moving. Quiet snickering could be heard and, as he turned around with the bags in his hands, he realized that all the other kids were walking up the small hill that led to the actual campsite. It was the counselors who were starting to unload the luggage. Some of the teens were walking backwards and watching, no, sneering at him. This time he mentally sighed. He probably looked like an idiot and everyone knew he didn't belong here. This was not going to be fun at all.
Mike heard the laughter and saw the contempt on the faces of several of his camp's regular attendees. He shook his head, walked over to Dick and gently removed the bags from his hands. Dick looked up at him, eyes full of anxiety, and Mike felt a rush of sympathy for the boy. That feeling was accompanied by one of anger at the parents who had obviously heavily influenced their children against the very thought of being nice to a kid from the circus.
"It will get better," Mike tried to reassure the thirteen-year-old. "Just be yourself and you'll be okay," he unknowingly echoed Bruce's final words. Dick nodded miserably then turned and walked up the hill, head down and hands in his pockets.
The tall boys who had been sitting in front of Dick on the bus, Walter and Bronte, were two of the kids walking backwards. Both distinctly remembered a small figure and realized that they had been talking about Dick Grayson while he was directly behind them. Walter glanced at Bronte and grinned. The boy already knew how they felt about him but they would be sure to properly introduce themselves during lunch. Facing forward again, they began formulating a plan to "welcome" the kid from the circus.
Fourteen-year-old Serina glanced over her left shoulder, her long black hair blowing across her face, when she heard laughter. She rolled her emerald eyes – the boys were already at it again and their target was the new kid. Maybe she would introduce herself at lunch, give the boy a little break from the haughty stares of her companions. Two of her friends called to her and she turned around to follow them. Maybe she would talk to him but, she shrugged, maybe not.
A/N: In my mind Bronte is pronounced Brawn-tay but you can say it however you want. :)
