Okay… this is my favorite story to update, by far. Maybe it's because it's first person… It's a challenge to me I guess, but I love it so…
"Everybody turn around, to the sound of my breaking heart." "Light a match under my paper heart…"
Dick's POV:
I never thought that when you pass out that you dream. I figured that unconsciousness and sleep were two totally different things in general. I know that when you're asleep, you're technically unconscious, but passing out is a different story, right? Wait, why does it matter? All points aside, I had a dream on the beach.
It was a weird dream to say the least. I was hanging off the side of a cliff. It had been storming something awful because I remember I was soaking wet and I was on edge because of the thunder. I remember there was a girl above me. I couldn't see her face because of how dark it was, but in between the flashes of lightning, I could see she was terrified. She was holding my hand, trying to keep me from falling. The rain made her hands so slippery though, and I couldn't hold on.
"Please Dick! Just hold on a minute longer!" she sobbed.
Well, I think she had been sobbing. Either that or there were a few random drops of rain that were a bit slower than the rest of it. She reached out another hand and wrapped it around my wrist, tugging harder.
"I can't hold on! I'm going to fall!" I remember screaming.
I remember searching the cliff side for a foot hold or something like that, but it was just straight down and there was nothing to grab a hold of. I remember her hands sliding off mine.
"Roy will be here any second! Don't let go! I need you!"
I remember that I started to cry, but I hid it. I remember calling her name and feeling her eyes on mine, but I don't remember her name.
"I have to let go," I remember saying quietly. "Save the world for me?"
And then I remember pulling my hand from hers and screaming as I fell through the air. Then I heard a voice.
"Hey!"
The voice wasn't in the dream though. In fact, it was that voice that woke me from the dream. That and two hands that shook me back and forth madly. I grunted weakly to tell whoever it was that was bothering me that I was awake.
"Thank… oh my…" I heard a relieved sigh and the shaking stopped. "You're alive!"
I opened my eyes, only to see a bright blue sky. Didn't I pass out with my face in the sand?
"Where…" I started to mumble, but somehow, I managed to forget how to speak.
I weakly looked around. To my right was the ocean. It didn't look too fancy to me. It was just water after all. To my left was… well, it was a guy. He didn't look quite 18 and he looked older than 12. I wanted to say he was 16, but he didn't look like the type of person that I'd trust behind the wheel of a car, so I decided 15 would be appropriate. He was kind of cute too. Er- I mean, it's just- if I was a girl, I'd think he was cute… He had messy red hair that hung down in his emerald eyes. It might've been just my angle, but his eyes had to be the most beautiful shade of green that existed. He had a billion or so freckles, just on his face, and he was almost pale enough to be considered a vampire. Or, if you were too lazy to read all of that, he was a mildly attractive ginger.
The part that gave him the 'mildly attractive' in his title was the look he had on his face. He was worried, for some odd reason. His green eyes were filled with fear and his eyebrows were turned down and all of the other stuff that goes with being worried.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the worry in his voice equal to that on his face.
I blinked slowly and nodded. I felt hung over almost, or at least what I imagined a hang over would feel like.
"Yeah… w-where… am I?" my tongue felt heavy in my mouth and I noticed my speech was slurred.
I didn't really feel all too surprised at the thought of being drunk though. He didn't seem to care though.
"You're in Gotham," the boy told me, but he sounded as if he was telling it to a pre-schooler, not me.
I couldn't help but notice that I unconsciously glanced down at my chest just to make sure I wasn't a pre-schooler. Don't worry, I wasn't, and I'm still not one.
"Gotham?" my eyebrows furrowed.
I turned and attempted to sit up. My body hurt so much that I'm surprised I even managed to sit up the few inches I did before wincing in pain. The ginger noticed. He took my hand and helped me to my feet carefully, putting his other hand to my back to, or at least I assume, keep me from falling.
"You're in New York," he rephrased himself, studying me carefully. "How'd you end up down here?"
I opened my lips to reply, but close them when I found that I didn't remember. My mind was blank. I ran a hand over my hair.
"I…" I looked hard at the ocean, as if that might spark a memory, but it did nothing, "I have… no idea."
The boy seemed surprised, but he recovered fast.
"Well, uh, what do you remember?" he asked instead.
I blinked slowly, thinking. What did I remember? I remembered the dream and him. That was it. Where did I live? Who were my parents? What was my birthday? Who's the president? Wait… who cares who the president is? Politics are for those who can vote.
"I'm… thirteen… and I woke up on a beach," I offered, shrugging.
His green eyes widened in surprised.
"An amnesiac?" his surprise faded to amusement, "Awesome!"
It was my turn to be surprised, but I shook it off fast. I held up my arms, looking over them for bruises or any tags of identification, doing the same with my legs and chest. All I discovered was that I was pale, I had bruises on my left arm and a blood stain on my Fritz' shirt. What the Hell is a Fritz? [1] I looked back at the ginger. He still seemed amused.
"Well, do you remember your name?" he asked.
I frowned hard. In the dream, the girl had called me 'Dick', but for all I know, she could've just been insulting me. She said it more than once though, and she didn't say it rudely… Man, my parents must've been complete assholes. Who names their child Dick? Maybe I'm being a little hard of them. Maybe it's like that country song, "A Boy Named Sue" which is about a dad who names his son Sue. It's actually kind of funny… Oh great, I knew country songs. Damnit. I hope I wasn't a hick. [2]
"Uh yeah, I think my name is Dick…" I admitted.
Now, if you're wondering why I'm telling this stranger everything… well, I'm wondering it to. He doesn't look like a rapist though, and he seems nice enough, but all rapists are probably nice at first. I guess I just trust him because he cared enough to wake me up when he didn't know me. He snickered.
"Really? Your name is Dick?" he asked, grinning ear to ear.
I couldn't help but smile. "Like I said, I think. Not like you have a better name though."
I hoped he got the hint. Lucky for me, he wasn't as stupid as he looked.
"The name's Wally," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.
I took it and we shook on it, or however you'd say that.
"My name could be Kelly or Betty Ann. Anything is better than 'Dick'," he teased.
I laughed softly, wincing as I did. I tried to play it off though by wrapping an arm around my pained and bleeding stomach.
"I don't know, what about Gina?" I argued.
It took Wally a moment, but when he got it, he smiled a knowing smile.
"Ha, yeah, I guess Gina's pretty bad, but Dick has it beat. Do you have a nickname or anything?"
I noticed he was eying my bleeding stomach, but he didn't comment on it so I didn't reply to that.
"No idea," I admitted. "What about you ginger? You got any nicknames?"
His eyes lit up and he moved closer, giving a strange expression that I guess he wanted to look seductive a sort. It failed.
"The ladies call me Kid Flash," he said from the deep of his throat, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
"More like Kid Mouth."
He grinned and took it as further encouragement. He backed up, his eyes still hovering on my stomach. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I wasn't going to just tell him to quit staring. I was already dissing on him. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Then, before my eyes, he started running. It wasn't normal running though. His feet moved so fast that he became nothing but a red blur through the air. When he stopped in front of me, he grinned madly, a golden chain standing out against his neck.
"What do you think?" he asked me, smirking.
I figured that my expression would tell him, but maybe he just wanted to hear.
"Consider me amazed," I clapped weakly, stopping after two measly claps as the bruise I had noticed not too long ago began to ache.
It might've just been the sun, but I could've sworn he blushed slightly.
"Thanks man."
He opened his lips to continue, but the golden chain on his neck drove me mad. I had to ask about it, so I did, rudely cutting him off.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it.
He jumped, surprised at the interruption, before following my finger. When he noticed the chain, he slipped a finger under it.
"This?" he asked, surprised that I was asking about it.
I nodded. "Yeah, what's with it?"
He gestured me to come close, so I did. He lifted the golden chain from under his white shirt. On the end was a little heart. Basically, he had a golden locket. It looked like real gold too. It may seem a little girly, but if girls can play football and not be called lesbian then guys can wear lockets and not be called gay. He dug his nail into the crease and popped the heart open. On one side, there was a tall and muscular red haired man with a big grin on his face. He looked just like Wally. I couldn't help but smile.
It was the other side that made me grin. It was obviously Wally, but he looked about six or seven and he had a huge happy grin on his lips. He looked like he was in mid-laugh when the picture was taken.
"Obviously, it's a locket. It's my good luck charm. I got it for my seventh birthday from my da-…" he cut himself off, but I could tell he was going to say 'dad'. "It didn't work though. This thing has cruddy luck."
He kicked angrily at the sand. I knew it wasn't my business, but I could tell he wanted to talk about it, so I asked. He told me how he wasn't accepted into the 'Justice League', the place where all heroes get their start. I didn't really know how comfort him though. I mean, maybe if I was his friend at the time I would've put an arm around him and told him that he didn't need them and that he could be a superhero without them, but I'm guessing I had only known him for ten minutes at the time so I couldn't do that.
"Maybe he didn't understand that you wanted to be a hero?" I offered, trying to think on the bright side of things.
He didn't seem confused.
"No, I think he understood. I'm just a failure…" he seemed close to breaking down, but in a very bipolar-like way, he changed his attitude, "but you don't need to hear that! We should get you to the hospital, then the police station. You're stomach looks pretty bad and your parents are probably worried sick."
I smiled weakly. The idea didn't sound pleasing though. Just the thought of going to the hospital scared me a little. I was going to mention that, but this time, I got cut off because karma is a bitch.
"Hey- you the West kid?" I heard a Latino accent ask.
I turned my head. He wasn't Latino. He was white, with a sideways hat, a wife beater and pants that fell so low that I could see every inch of his blue checkered boxers. It wasn't attractive in the least, same with his accomplice. The guy was also white, but he was bigger and buffer than his scrawny friend. This guy was bald and looked like he was on steroids, big time. The part that scared me a little was the guns they had in their hands. I could tell Wally was scared by it too. His adorable worried face- agh, screw it. Yes, he's adorable when he's scared, as far as I know anyway. Who cares? LET ME LIVE MY LIFE!
… Where was I? Oh yeah, guys with guns. Well, they turned to Wally and pointed their guns on him. I don't know what I was thinking, but I stepped in front of him.
"Dick, what are you doing? Run," he whispered to me, his voice sounding surprisingly brave.
"I don't want to go to the hospital. I might as well die down here saving someone so I can go see if there really is a Heaven," I argued, "besides, my stomach stings too much. I can't run."
"Hey- blackie!" the Latino yelled to me, probably referring to my hair.
Gee, the world is full of a lot racists nowadays, huh? I glanced his way.
"You better run if you know what's good for you," he suggested.
I rolled my eyes. He seemed all talk. His partner on the other hand made me want to shit myself and run away screaming. That isn't really worth sharing though. And to make it worse, the steroid guy's eyes were two different sizes. The right one was bulged and a bright orange while the left was a red squint. And I'm pretty sure he had fangs. Yeah, it looks like Edward got mobbed by a group of anti-Edwards. I'm pretty sure I'd be in the crowd too, but I would've just taken his jacket and sold it on EBay for money.
"Good idea," I heard Wally say behind me.
Half of me expected him to run off and leave me alone to die. The other half got its bet though as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, turning into a blur, sand flying behind us as he ran.
"Who are those guys?" I asked, still scared sick.
I caught his gaze for only a second, but it was all I needed.
"Who cares? They had guns and one of them looked like a white-trash and vampire version of the Hulk!"
I just smirked. No need to argue with a guy with super speed, right? So I just closed my eyes and rested my chin against what I assumed was on of his shoulder blades.
[1] Fritz is a restaurant down at Crown Center where the food is delivered by toy trains. It's AWESOME. My friend Bailey's grandma's took me and her down there and I got a train hat and a shirt! I love them! (They're lesbians, but they're 70, so it wasn't as awkward as I thought it'd be).
[2] I'm a hick, so to the other hicks, please don't take offense. The rest of the world is just jealous that they can't look sexy in cowboy and cowgirl hats and boots in public. And besides, we can say our aints and ya'lls in public and not get called ungrammatical.
To those who know what this is based off of, I changed the beginning scenario. Yeah, I know, but I'm lazy and I don't want little Dickard and Wallard going up against gun guys in the… whatever chapter this is… Ha (; Well, love you all for the moment… so review if you would? Danke shoen meine Freunde! [thank you my friends]
-F.J.
