An: Well...I haven't actually written this chapter out yet. I'm just literally sitting here and trying to think of a way to start it. So, until that inspiration fuse gets lit, you get to listen to me ramble! Yeah!
Anyway, I'm kind of kidding. I don't have much to say this time around, except for THANK YOU. The reviews were great and I absolutely love coming home and logging into my email to find words of encouragement or anything along those lines. It's the best feeling ever, so thanks for that. Well, I guess I kind of need to start actually working on the story now. But one last thing, since I may or may not hold your attention captive at the moment. School's out! FINALLY! I graduated from the school I've been in since I was FOUR. I now know what FREEDOM feels like! But anyway, incoming high school version of me aside, this means for the next few months I'll hopefully have a faster updating schedule! (since it's summer and everything.) According to what I've heard from all of you, that's good? Whatevs, we'll see. Thanks for listening to the babble. Enjoy!
And, remember. Just 'cause I'm not showing the audience POV doesn't mean that they're not watching! And I suppose that yes, I do kind of mean that in a creepy way.
Dick POV. (I've given up. I'm not writing out all the names anymore. From now on it's just going to be Dick POV. You people know he's Robin. And Richard for that matter. And if not, this may not be the story for you...)
Dick was having a bad day.
He might have been preoccupied yesterday, but honestly, with a severed head, the confrontation with Mr. Robinson's killers, and the whole landing on a deserted island thing, he had a feeling he was more than entitled to being a little busy and distracted.
Batman would disagree. For the last few years, as soon as Dick had begun his initial Robin training, Bruce's alternate ego had assigned him rigorous lessons. Learning more complex vocabulary in languages he was already familiar in. Memorizing the meaning behind a person's movements and correspondingly proving he could uncover a person's tells. Studying various political figures from the previous centuries. Practicing maneuvers personally designed to incapacitate an opponent with an extra limb. Seriously, there were some weird lessons.
But despite how Dick doubted the majority would come in handy, he had learned early on never to take knowledge or a skill for granted. Anything could come in useful someday while he attempted to uncover aspects of a case, or fight off a group of unique villains.
And here he was. Facing one of the most daunting unofficial missions of his life.
Without the intelligence he should have gathered from the get go.
Dick sighed, reaching up to run a practiced hand through the unruly locks of his hair. Without a fresh covering of the gel that usually held his style together, his hair had begun to revolt from his usual look. It was gradual. The dirt from camping out in their makeshift shelter, the sweat from his scuffle with yesterday's opponents, and the course of time had all grouped together. Leaving him in an unkempt state Richard Grayson was rarely found in.
On the bright side, however small of a worry it had been, the loss of his hairstyle hadn't clued any of his classmates into his identity.
Proof, Bruce was paranoid.
Dick withheld another sigh automatically, aware that his group of classmates was uncomfortably close at the moments and had already glanced at him in concern a moment ago.
Still, he couldn't stop the frustration that bubbled and seethed under his pale complexion. Bruce wasn't just paranoid. He was aware. Batman, Bruce, whoever. He was ready. Always able to make informed decisions at business meetings, or ready to extract that elusive piece of information from Gotham's scum. He recognized clues everyone else overlooked. Tracked down leads others would scoff at.
Dick would like to say he was the same. And yeah, to a normal person he probably seemed like it. Robin must've looked like he had everything together. But Dick knew the truth. Robin wasn't, and never would be, as good as Batman.
And the evidence was right in front of him. Randomly spewing from the ground, flower face's tilted towards the waning sun in relaxed innocence. Snow white petals almost unnaturally unblemished. Dark green under leaves framing the white specks that shone under the sky's touch.
A gardenia.
The shrub sprouted cockily from the outskirts of an oak tree's shadow.
Which Dick confirms, thinking back to lazy afternoons scrolling through Wikipedia and other risky floral sights (you never know with plant enthusiasts), is not probable.
Oak trees do not grow on Hawaii.
Gardenia's do.
And yeah, they grow in other places too. So, Dick's sure he could find them on some Pacific islands. But you don't find many combinations of Oak trees and Gardenia's.
With a steady eye Dick begins to actively analyze his surroundings. He eyes insects that he can't remember the name of. He's not perfect. He doesn't know the exact area to find every species that currently or previously exists. But he's sure some of the bugs belong well away from an island in the middle of the ocean.
He eyes a beetle suspiciously. It looks uncannily similar to one he knows should only flourish in certain deserts.
Consider his interest peeked.
As he examines a cluster of mushrooms from afar, he internally berates himself.
How could he have been so stupid? Bruce would have picked up on the varying of species a minute into strolling through his new surroundings. Dick didn't realize until his second day. He bites his lip, imagining the prickling protest to be the slight punishment for messing up so badly. Robin was specifically trained to pick up on these things. He should have analyzed this like second nature. He should have realized. Should have noticed something was definitely wrong and worked to actively fix it. He most definitely should have been suspicious, at least. After all, he knew the plane was gone. He knew there were half a dozen assailants yesterday. He knew that their plane fell from the freaking sky.
And yes, he's aware that this type of thing did tend to happen in plane crashes.
But what were the odds that it would be his plane? Their plane that fell?
Dick leaves that line of thought before he can actually begin the equations to figure it out. He honestly didn't want to know the odds unless Wally or Roy were in the plane with him and he could tease them with the statistics.
Dick shook his head again. What was wrong with him today? And yesterday? He normally prided himself in his mental ability. He was a hacker after all. But it was like all his memories and senses were loose and spinning around unhelpfully. Trying to tear apart any representation of his normal train of thought. Dick clenched his fist. Feeling his nails dig into his palm. Good. The pain was grounding him. Bringing him back to a reality where he could struggle through his knowledge a little easier.
He lined the clues up.
Barely noticing as Kathie stumbled beside him, Dick escaped further into his mental state. Ignoring the voice in the back of his head reminding him to stay semi-aware of his surroundings. Dick pushed the British caution away, trying to ignore the tinging pain that came with hearing the familiar accent and the memory of who it belonged too. He needed to understand. That meant focusing.
The plane crashed. The plane vanished. His belt was missing. Bruce hadn't tracked him down yet. All the vegetation was clearly messed up. Mr. Robinson was killed. By those...things. A half a dozen humanoid beings that were definitely something new. He had 48 hours. Then an unknown variable would occur. Rear it's unknown head. His bird-a-rangs were being returned in suspicious ways. From the fight. And from the...
Dick blinked.
The head. The decomposing portion of a person that sat abandoned in another point in the forest. Dick swallowed at the thought of his hand plunging through the flesh and gore to seize his weapon of choice.
Everything had rushed by so fast the last few days he had completely missed a chance to break down everything he noticed around the head.
Wait. That wasn't right. They had only been on the island two days. Not enough time to think of as 'the last few days'.
Dick blames his dehydrated and hungry self. Something else Bruce wouldn't have a problem with.
He thinks once again about the head. The way the features were positioned on the face...
But it doesn't help him much. The memory is garbled and confused by the adrenaline and unsettled wriggling in his stomach from his time around the head itself. And the process of finding his weapon...
Still. He can't shake the thought that the destroyed face looked somewhat familiar. That under the damage Dick might have an actual idea of who the head belonged to originally.
"...Dick?" He looked up at the sound of his name. Warped by the nervous tremble of a feminine voice he automatically associates with Kathie.
"Yeah?" He hides his annoyance at the interruption. Kathie didn't know he was pursuing leads on their situation. "What's up?"
It's just then that he really tuned back into their situation.
Avery stood, with an arm crossed over her chest and expression pinched, further along in the woods. He other arm still had bandages roping around various puncture wounds from their arrival. With fingers tied carefully in cloth to steady them. Thomas hesitated directly in front of her. Obviously uncomfortable with how close he'd stopped to the girl, but unsure if moving would make it more awkward or relieve him of his anxiety.
Yes. Dick decided quickly. By the way Avery swallowed thickly, it would definitely be better to move away right then.
Kathie stood before Dick himself. Her amber eyes flitted around his frame hesitantly as she reached up to tuck an oily strand of dirty blond hair behind her ear. "Are you o-okay Dick?"
He looked down.
His legs were frozen. His forearm pushed against a nearby tree, taking his weight. Dick staggered back, startling Kathie and sending her skidding backward like a frightened deer escaping a headlight.
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm good." He placated hastily. Seriously, what was he doing? Getting so far away from his awareness when they were in enemy territory. It was unprofessional. He hadn't made a mistake like that since he was nine. And even then. It was just one mistake.
Because one mistake was all it took when you worked with Batman.
"If y-you're s-sure..." Kathie agreed dubiously, looking back to make eye contact with Avery. Who's eyebrows furrowed together as they scanned Dick for a reason for his sudden unsteadiness. He fought the urge to roll his eyes and failed. Finding solace in realizing Thomas was doing the same.
"Let's just go." Thomas said. Dick nodded in agreement, following as Thomas finally stepped around Avery and continued to tread over the mismatched ground of the forest. Different plants and insects that Dick now realized belonged to different countries and regions coexisting in a strange puzzle.
"So, Kathie. You're our expert now." Avery looked back and grinned at the shorter girl confidently. Her slightly overlarge front teeth prominent and approachable to her shy classmate. "How should we go about this?"
Kathie looked at them all uncertainly. "Well...It's a-a little d-different than us-s-ual..."
"That's okay, just tell us what you usually do." Thomas interrupted helpfully. Avery smacks him on the shoulder.
"Ignore him, Kathie. Just tell us whatever you would do."
"That's exactly what I just said." Thomas muttered mutinously. Avery hits him again.
Dick doesn't point out that their bickering is putting Kathie off even further. Instead he let's the scene play out. Resigned to the antics of his classmates.
"W-well...I, um, I usually have my g-gun-"
"Oops. No can do. Guess we're out of luck." Thomas frowns comically deep, as both Avery and Dick stare at him in exasperation. "What?"
"Never mind." Avery grumbles, looking dangerously close to hitting Thomas somewhere a lot more important that his shoulder. The way her vivid green eyes glare at his nose is slightly worrying.
They all look back to Kathie expectantly and she scuffs the dirt with her shoe. "W-we don't have g-guns. B-but if we use our kn-nives, we sh-should be able t-to hunt in a different way..."
She trails back unsurely, looking at their surroundings as they stroll through the woods in a meandering speed.
"Hey, wait." Thomas said suddenly. No one stopped walking. "Kathie, we live in Gotham. How do you even hunt?"
Kathie blushed. "Well, usually me and my, um, grandfather went out to a d-different state to find someone who'd let us g-go out on their land..."
"How would you-" Pinned under Avery's glare, Thomas's question dissipated into the air.
"A-and then we normally wait out for g-game to, um, to c-come by..."
"Okay, well, that makes sense." Avery agreed. "But we're going to have to do something different. Something that works with a few inch long knives."
"We could set some traps?" Thomas suggested. "I don't know any of those fancy ones they have, but we can figure something out."
"It would make more sense to that a little closer to camp. I mean, even with all the noise, at least we have less of a commute to wherever we set them up. It'll be safer that way." Avery decided.
Dick nearly cringed at her wording as he saw the way Thomas, and mostly Kathie, winced at the reminder to where they were. Somewhere unsafe. Someplace where they could die, or get hurt at any time. Like Mr. Robinson.
Thomas cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay. So for now...what? Just keep wandering around? Waiting for something we can kill to pop up?"
"W-well that's, um, that's one option..." Kathie allowed. "Or we c-could hunker d-down and, um, wait for an animal to c-come by..."
"Wait it out..." Avery mused, stumbling over a rough patch of tangled vines.
"Sounds boring." Thomas pointed out.
"Sounds practical." Avery argued.
Thomas sighed, and turned towards Dick decidedly. "What about you? You've been pretty quiet over there, Richard. What do you think?"
Dick sighed. "It's up to the group. Not just me."
"No, Thomas is kind of right." Avery realized. "You wanted to go hunting, and we all agreed. But this was your idea. And you were originally the mascot of one of the searching groups. Well, be a mascot. What do you think?"
Dick was somewhat taken aback by Avery's sudden point. He knew that they were out hunting because of him, but to have it pointed out so blandly was disconcerting. It just acted as a reminder that any blood spilled would be on his hands. Trickling down to join the already present scarlet puddle that had surrounded him for years. The puddle that probably now had a few quarts of Mr. Robinson mixed in.
He shook away the negative thoughts because, honestly, they weren't helping anyone at the moment. Instead, he focused his attention of Avery's question. Or whatever sort of something she had been asking surrounded in a swarm of words.
They could settle down. Wait until something edible came by. Or they could keep walking. They might still come across an animal then. Or a recognizable type of berry, or plant. One that Dick knew to be safe for consumption.
He grimaced. That option did sound as if it had more perks. At the same time, the more they moved, the more chance they had of someone noticing them. If they hadn't already.
"D-Dick?" Kathie prodded tentatively.
Dick cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. Well, I think we should keep moving. Maybe come across an animal, or some sort of fruit, vegetable, whatever."
"And what do we do if we find an anim-" Thomas began.
Avery waved his question aside. "We'll cross that bridge when it comes to us."
"A-Alright...well, um, I guess we just keep walking for n-now..." Kathie suggested unsurely.
Dick nodded. "Yep. Just keep going."
POV CHANGE! Okay...Let's go with...ya know what? I'm gonna stick with Chris. Chris POV everyone.
"Dammit!" Jason let loose a string of curses as he staggered away from the fireplace, gripping one hand with his other. Chris sighed as he watched the other teenager wave his hand around, swinging it up so he could suck on his thumb soothingly for a moment before dropping it level with his chest for a swift inspection.
"What'd he do?" Cameron asked, glancing up with mild interest.
Chris sighed, but this time he couldn't help the slight amusement that tugged the corner of his lip. "Looked like he dropped some wood on his hand."
They both calmly observed as Jason limped over to the shade of a tree, plopping into the ground where he proceeded to tenderly cradle his appendage. Bette crossed over from the other side of the camp.
"She's going in for the kill." Cameron commented. "Poor Jason doesn't know what he's getting into."
"There goes his 'manly reputation'." Riley agreed. Both her, Lizzy, and Cameron snickered.
"Guys, come on. Be nice." Chris said. But he joined in with his group's chuckles as Bette sarcastically tore Jason apart. Picking at all the right places to turn his face red. Chris did notice that Jason loosened his hold on his hand in the process.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay Mr. Goody-two-shoes." Lizzy rolled her eyes."You know, you used to be fun."
Chris frowned. "Well how much fun should we even be having when we're in this mess?"
He regretted it as soon as the words met open air.
Cameron swallowed thickly, looking guiltily into the distance as though recalling an unsavory event. Lizzy glared at him, while Riley glanced down at the ground awkwardly.
"Sorry. You're right. We should just act like we're in the military or something. Be as emphatic as Batman. That's how we're going to get through this." Lizzy said dryly, her words tearing through Chris. "Honestly what was I thinking."
She stalked off, easing up on the weight she put on her twisted ankle.
"Wait!" Chris called after her. "Lizzy, seriously. I didn't mean it like that-"
He got up, planning to go after the girl.
"I wouldn't if I were you." Riley recommended. Chris glanced over. Riley rubbed a hand unconsciously over her bandaged arm. Where something had sliced through the day before. "She needs some time to cool down."
"I didn't mean to-I just-" Chris shook his head. It was his job to lead. To inspire placidity and hope, but here he was dragging his friend's thoughts into a negative abyss.
"Yeah, I know." Riley said. "It'll be fine."
She walked off to where Lizzy had joined Elijah in attempting to fashion more bandages out of clothing too shredded for blankets or to wear. Lindsey sewed their already existing blankets into a more recognizable and stable design beside them.
"Good job, dude." Cameron congratulated sympathetically.
Chris groaned. "Seriously, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, no. I'm good. It was just a second there, you know? Anyway. I think she's just a little overwhelmed. Overeating a little. She'll be good in a bit."
"Yeah." Chris said absentmindedly. "I guess you're right."
Cameron shook his head, and the two sat in silence for a minute. Cameron occupying his time by fiddling with the shallow cuts on his hand, marks already beginning to scab over.
"Hey, Chris?" Cameron asked suddenly.
"Hmm?" He looked over. The redhead was staring forward purposefully.
"Do you, um, do you think we're friends?"
Chris wasn't expecting that. He looked over. "I'm sorry?"
"You know...I mean, we're in the same class and everything. We've been in the same school for years, but during the last two days I feel like I know more about you than anything I learned in those last few years. It just makes me wonder...if that means we're friends now? Or if we always were?"
Chris nodded. "I mean, yeah, I'd say we're friends. We have been for a while I guess." He paused as a sudden realization swept over him. "Wait, do you think we're friends?"
"...Yeah." Cameron decided. "But, you know. It's just come to my attention...recently...that anyone in our class who I got along with, anyone I knew, I didn't actually know."
Chris knew what he meant. In all the years at Gotham Academy he'd gotten to know the students in his class. And despite how many projects they worked on together, how many afternoons he'd spent at their houses studying, he was now realizing that his classmates were different then how he'd ever thought of them.
His best friend, Thomas. Their parents were friends, and they'd known each other for years but Chris had never realized how different he was from the boy, then teenager, Chris had known. That under his humorous remarks and fun smirks, a person able to forge his way through this ordeal existed. That a teenager who could help tie off the blood stemming from his classmates wounds existed under the image of his ideal friend.
And it wasn't just Thomas who he'd seen a different dimension of too. Lizzy and Riley. Two girls he'd only had polite and brief interactions with before they landed on the island. Chris had always thought of them as strong-willed, fun loving, and smart girls. But now, he understood more. Sure, he had learned lesser aspects about them. Riley could cook. Lizzy snore in her sleep. But he now knew so much more than that. Lizzy and Riley were there when their teacher died. They had watched him fall over as his life drained into the muck. And they, with Cameron (who had always come across as a nerd), came out able to function surprisingly normal the next day. They were all made of something tougher than what Chris had known.
Even people like Lindsey and Bette were different. Lindsey had always seemed like such a stuck up, stereotypical teenage girl from all the drama infused TV shows or movies. Obsessed with her appearance and correspondingly her clothes, hair, and makeup. But just looking at her now, Chris knew that wasn't entirely true. Sure, she had complained about the chipped nail obsessively, but at least she had picked up a needle and thread to get some blankets together without getting told.
And Bette was a similar case. She may not have come across as completely shallow, like Lindsey, but Chris had never realized how down to Earth and ready to work she had been until they got stranded.
Chris felt Cameron's concerned eyes trained on him. "Hey, you oka-?"
"Yeah. I guess you're right." Chris stared at the sand. "There really is more too us than I though there was."
"Um, okay?"
The two continued to talk for a few minutes. The line of conversation steadily moving away from their current situation, and more towards how things must have been going in the real world. They began to wonder what newest villain was out of the asylum. Chris bet it would be the Joker. The mad clown hadn't been out for a while, and Chris had put money on his escape over Scarecrow with a few of his friends back at Gotham academy.
Cameron was just beginning to explain his assumption that Poison Ivy would be free next (complete with all the evidence he could think of supporting his claim) when he was interrupted by the approach of hesitant footsteps.
Chris looked back, just in time to see Ava and Pattie stride up behind them. Chris and Cameron exchanged a quick look.
"Hey." Cameron greeted, raising a hand to wave winningly.
Chris was about to do similar, when he noticed the way their expressions were set. Lips twisted downwards. Eyebrows scrunched together. Eyes themselves glinting.
So instead of his fast greeting, he pushed himself up, out of the sand him and Cameron lounged in, and to his feet. "What's up? Cole break something important?"
Pattie and Ava exchanged looks. Chris absentmindedly noted the way Pattie held herself stiffer than usual, shoulders back to limit the strain on her back. He figured that the road-rash from their arrival must've been bothering her even with the bandages. After all, they didn't have painkillers to waste on a more trivial injury.
"Haven't you noticed?" Ava asked in confusion. Chris frowned, taking her question as an invitation to examine his surroundings more thoroughly. Bette and Jason were still stuck in a flirting/fighting match under the shadow of a tree, however, Bette was distracted. He watched as she looked up at the sky unsurely.
Chris glanced up, following her line of sight. With a sudden jolt he realized how fast the sun had gotten around the bend of the island. Already beginning to descend, meaning to plunge them back into the night. It seemed surreal that it could be that time already. Chris scanned the camp. Lindsey plowed on through her blankets. Cole argued with Elijah over something (hopefully nothing important). Lizzy and Riley had returned to the soup they were working on earlier. Well, Lizzy watched. That was probably for the best.
Chris swallowed, looking back to Pattie and Ava. "They're not back yet."
It wasn't a question.
Pattie shook her head, biting at her lip.
Chris felt a frown etch itself deeper into his face and wondered if he would need plastic surgery back in Gotham to get rid of the lasting scowl. "...The time really flew..."
Chris stalked off, leaving Cameron staring after him. Pattie and Ava followed.
"Chris! Wait, what are you doing?" Ava asked as he reached into their supply pile to extract a knife. Unfortunately, despite for desperately he rummaged, he couldn't find one. It was expected, of course. Weapons of any kind were in short supply at deserted islands.
He sighed. "If they're not back soon we've got to decide. If we go after them."
"And you want to go." Pattie assumed.
Chris nodded.
Kathie. Sweet, innocent, nervous Kathie. She could be lying under an enemy blade at that very moment. Guts, blood, meat, spilling out to decorate the ground.
Avery. Smart, capable, creative Avery. She could be struggling to hold onto an unknown cliff's edge. After all, they didn't know the terrain yet.
Thomas. His best friend. Always there with a laugh, a joke, or words of encouragement. He could be lost. Blundering through the woods and escaping the site where his group was slaughtered.
Dick. Young, intelligent, brave Dick. He could have torn open any number of the wounds he had from his previous struggles. Could be scared and relying on the other three to drag him through an uncertain environment.
And all of it would be his fault.
How could he not want to go after them?
Dick POV. Stick with me people. This is quick. We're almost done here.
Dick was okay with the plants. Sure, it was annoying when they came across a patch of cacti, just to tread by a few dandelions. But Dick could deal with that. It certainly wasn't his biggest issue at the moment.
Unfortunately, he could not say the same about the lion.
AN: Ummmmm, I was going to keep writing...but I've been struggling with this for the last week...(not exaggerating)...so I'm done.
Sorry, guess this might be a bit of a cliff hanger?
Anyway, I don't really like this chapter. Too much internal analytical reiterating. But IDK. I guess it's sort of necessary and stuff. I do better with actual descriptions and whatever. That's more fun to write.
So, sorry for the wait! Like I mentioned in the top AN it's summer time! Yeah! So, hopefully faster updates. Alright. Thanks for reading. PLEASE REVIEW. Honestly, it doesn't have to be much. Just like a sentence of 'It would be cool if you wrote this...' or, like, PMs'll work if ya don't wanta review. Because honestly, I'm changing a lot from my original (admittedly brief) guideline, and ideas are welcome. No promises they'll actually be in though.
Kay! Thanks! Toodles!