Chapter 12:


TWO MONTHS LATER


December 18th, 2013.

It had been one whole year, one single year. Dick's eyebrows scrunched together as he thought about it, staring at the ceiling. He was wrapped in an array of blankets from one of those donation boxes outside of church and was actually beginning to sweat.

One year, a whole entire year. 365 days of being in an alternate dimension with no one from home coming to get him. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what was going on through Bruce's head at the moment. Was he missing him? Was he still trying everything? (Vaguely he wondered how Superman was doing and Alfred) Was he disappointed in himself? Dick turned over in his cocoon, murmuring slightly as cold air hit his warm shoulder. He shivered slightly and then covered his shoulder up, which was actually a deep tan color. He'd grown tanner over the summer and New York's winter had been very dry, with little snow and a lot of sun. The temperature was still at record lows but the sun was still able to beat down, and Dick didn't tan easily, his Gypsy heritage liked to shine and soaked in the sun as if it were water.

Sighing, his thoughts were actually calm, considering deep down inside him, a small boy was crying for his father.

Tomorrow, he thought, attempting to get rid of "one year, 365 days" out of his head, he'd go to school. It would be his first day, because honestly two months ago in October he hadn't exactly been at the top of his game, he was more focused on Mr. Stark and SHIELD finding him, and occasionally White Rabbit, who turned up since he'd first fought her and her enormous rabbit. He had also needed to time to create a past for Richard Grayson (he'd decided to use his real name to throw of SHIELD) and some audio files to call the school with. His mother had a very soft spoken voice and his father had a good, deep strong baritone.

Creating himself a past wasn't too hard, he'd just require a little ounce of truth into it. He was a straight A student who struggled in English and History; truth. He'd grown up in the suburbs; lie. He didn't make friends easily; truth. He could play the violin and could draw well, easily a truth. His mother was a small-town lawyer who got a job in the city, lie, though they didn't need to know that, and his father was the owner of a series of X'press Marts, lie. It hadn't been too hard to come up with a family history, just in case they checked into it. Before he had signed up he had, for a good one strong hour, changed the owner of the X'press Marts picture to a picture of a man he could make his father, so when they did checks on him and searched it up, it led them to a false page telling them about a man who believed in good morals and strong foundations at work.

Dick liked to think that if he hadn't grown up in the circus, that's who his dad would've been.

Still, the secretary at the school wanted to meet up with his parents, but after cutting up a recording of a women's voice he was able to make a call saying that neither she nor her husband could come to the school and would have to send the required files from Dick's old school (also forged) to the school. Midtown High School didn't have any problem with this at all, and actually thanked his mother, in a return call because Mary Grayson had left a message, that this made life easier.

And now Dick was set to go. All he had to do was waltz into that school and walked toward the office, get his schedule and then go to classes. He wouldn't make himself known, he wouldn't let anyone bother him and he'd be fine. He'd just go to school and then leave; there would be no problem.

In the back of his mind, however, Dick knew this was not going to happen because the moment he answered some math problem correctly and then correct the teacher, a hard urge to resist, people would be stereotyping him. It would be hard to place him in a group by his clothes, because after finding some in another Charity Bin, Dick had quite the average wardrobe. His hair had grown slightly long, no more than ½ and he'd grown a lot tanner. His eyes, however, always screwed up his appearance because they were such a bright blue, which distorted the dark gypsy image. He'd found a pair of dark wash jeans, just a little too big for him, and a blue pullover two sizes larger. He now carried with him, however, a piece of technology much like a phone. It was almost his arm computer except minimized and with Stark Technology, which Dick found to be quite useful when combined with Wayne tech.

He could call on it, piggy-backing off of a satellite from space connected to Verizon's 4G network and search the internet and creating it had been a pain in the but without the right tools, but all he really had to do was combine the tech he already had, but even that was hard without the right tools; though, he somehow managed to do it with a paperclip and some Fusion Rods he found in a trash can.

Even then so, he wouldn't look to shabby. He'd hid the phone, because he knew it was way too advanced for it's time and he'd washed his clothes at a Wash place, which let him in for free if he took out their trash, which he did. He'd look like any normal teenager really, if you discounted for his blue eyes, which always made people double take. Honestly, he didn't understand what was so special. Okay, so he was gypsy, big deal. Though, his father had been completely gypsy and his mother was third generation, though her father was Irish, which was where her red hair came from. He'd gotten the onyx colored hair from his fathers side, along with the uber tan skin, whish liked to flaunt itself at red-haired, freckly pale Wally during the summer.

His blue eyes, he figured, was where his Irish came in, though he had seen pictures of his grandfather when he had been younger, and then man had had green eyes, though they had been just as bright as his were. In all honestly, Dick just got irritated at the blue who said he looked odd. Of course, after having gone to live with Bruce, his tan had somehow gotten paler. He thought it had been the fluorescent light and the light the moon gave off when they went on patrol, and of course he'd been right. One day, when he was about ten or so, he'd gone and stood in front of a mirror, inspecting himself.

In a moment of fleeting panic, he'd noticed how pale he had gotten. His hair, which was still a dark, blackened onyx, made him look even paler. His eyes, which were sort of dull, looked liked two blue moon-like orbs and made his skin almost grayish. He turned away and didn't look in a mirror for about a month, after that he's shrugged it off as simply growing older.

He still didn't like mirrors, honestly, but Dick figured it was a silly thing to be afraid of, your own reflection, and had then stood in front of a shop with mirrors for a good two hours before the manager ran out to tell him to stop loitering.

Groaning, he turned once more in his bed, finished contemplating everything.

He began to doze off then, thinking of how long it'd been.

His heart ached, but his mind began to wonder and soon he was asleep.


EARTH PRIME: NEXT MORNING


Dick was clutching an empty backpack to his shoulder, and fingering his "phone" in his pocket.

He was standing outside of Midtown High School, in the courtyard. In front of him was a large fountain spewing ice cold water, and around that were benches and places where dead trees stood. The school was made up of three rectangular buildings that were connected, they each faced the central courtyard and behind them were the track and football fields, along with baseball and tennis court, which was next to the gym. The buildings that made up the longer side of the "rectangle" around the courtyard were connected with a series of arches that lined the sidewalk, though most of those arches were blocked by bushes that were trimmed down.

Students were already meandering around, texting or sleeping. School started at eight and right now it was seven O'clock in the morning. Dick wanted to get a feel for the school before classes actually started. He could read maps well, but he was still fourteen and trying to get to where your math class was with a hoard of eight year old teenagers pushing at him wasn't fun at all, and he was still pretty small. He was in the shadow of the building facing the east, where the sun was slowly rising from the sky. He didn't want people to notice him, but it didn't matter if people were texting or sleeping, if he walked across the courtyard people were bound to figure out he was new.

And so here he was, inching his way toward the main entrance of the school. Once he came to the very last bit of shadow, he slid out and speed walked toward the entrance, no one called out to him or made any movement to confront him. Standing in front of the large doors was a man with a hooked nose and long, black hair tied back in a pony-tail. He wore a brown suit, which looked a little too small for him, and was crossing his arms and glaring at any student to make a move toward him. Seeing Dick walked toward, the man turned in his direction, his beady eyes staring him down.

Confidently, Dick said, "I'm a new student; Mrs. Haversham told me I should come in early to get my schedule and map."

The man, whose nametag said "Mr. Fallowfield", stared at him for a little while, probably trying to figure out if he was lying.

"Mrs. Haversham, eh? Fine. go ahead, but you better be back out here when she dismissed you, if I find you wandering the halls before first bell than you'll be in a heap of trouble young Mister!" Mr. Fallowfield exclaimed, tugging at the cuffs of his short jacket. Dick nodded sternly, his eyes serious as Mr. Fallowfield opened the door for him and let him in to the main hall. Bulletins were filled with flyers for "Dance Club!" and "Harry Potter Fan Club!" and the lunch menu for the week. A long hall filled with lockers went straight down the building and then two on the left and the right branched off where it ended and two where it begun. A sign on the left directed him to the front office and he took it, turning left toward a large wooden door. Turning the handle, he slowly pushed it open to see a large carpeted area filled with chairs that lined the wall.

He walked in and, seeing a very organized desk on the right, walked toward it. A hallway with a sign that said Administrators Office was on the left right next to the desk and down it he could see it was lined with door to the right. He stood in front of the desk, staring at everything around him.

He noticed one security camera in the far left corner of the room, which had view of everything except right under it. A camera one the opposite corner made up for it, however but neither caught anything in the niche of the Mrs. Haversham's desk, because there was a small part of the wall which had been pushed back for a desk to fit in it. The hall which led down to the Administrators Office had no cameras but the one on the left wall could probably get enough of it to know someone went in there.

He glanced down at Mrs. Haversham's desk.

In 30 seconds he gathered that she was married, and was painting a room. Her computer was on and beside her keyboard there were a set of keys, home keys he noticed, she drives a Honda. So, she had a husband (they were newly weds) and they were thinking of painting their house/apartment a baby blue. She was forgetful, obviously, because her computer was burning hot, and he could tell it had been turned on only moments before he entered the office because the smell and look of dust was in the air. She didn't seem to want to put her keys on the key-holder behind her desk, which means she doesn't trust her co-workers.

Just then a tall tan woman with large bushy hair, a long sharp nose and a lot of makeup came walking into the room from the Administrators hallway with files and a cup of coffee in her hand.

She didn't notice Dick, who had taken a step back in surprise, as she sat down and began to enter her password.

"Um, excuse me?" Dick asked, speaking loudly to get her attention.

Mrs. Haversham glanced up. She was wearing a lot of makeup, making her look orange and her glasses were bright red and pointed at the end. Her black hair was curly and bushy and held back with a large butterfly clip.

She looked at him startled. "Yes, can I help you?" She sounded foreign.

Dick nodded, taking a step forward. "Yes, you see my Name is Richard Grayson and I was recently registered-"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, jumping up. Her bright green frilly blouse bounded up and down. She wiped her hands on her grey pants and then began to search through a file cabinet that was behind her desk and filled with little nick-knacks and pictures. "Yes yes, we recently got you here! You're all signed up and everything boy, I have your schedule right here!" She pulled out a blue folder that was labeled "Grayson, John Richard" and pulled out two sheets of paper.

"Tell your mother we have all of your things prepared, and there should be no problem being integrated into the school. Have you chosen your electives?" she asked, handing him the papers. There was a map of the school and his schedule.

He nodded. "Yeah, Computer Science and Digital Photography," he replied.

She looked interested. "Really? Interesting, most of the students choose art for an easy A. They are quite surprised to find it is not as easy as it seems. You are freshman?"

Dick nodded, "Yes."

She nodded and then glanced down at her desk, his folder had disappeared. Cursing in another language, she began to search for it, pushing stuff aside. "I am so forgetful," she told him, "My husband tells me I need something to remind me."

Dick smirked inwardly but then nodded toward her. "Well, thank you Mrs. Haversham, have a nice day." He didn't bother telling her she'd put his documents back in the cabinet.

"Goodbye!" she called to him, waving ecstatically.

Dick walked out of the office, laughing to himself. He glanced down the long hallway, wondering if he should walk around but then he glanced out of the large doors, which had two huge windows and saw Mr. Fallowfield glaring at him through the window. Figuring it wasn't worth it, Dick walked toward the large doors.

"I wasn't thinking about," he lied to the older man, who had opened his mouth to accuse him. He walked back to the shadows, which had grown smaller since the he'd walked inside. It had been a good thirty minutes, which he had hadn't realized. Two buses were sitting in front of the school, dropping off a large amount of kids. He saw a good amount of kids his age, and what looked to be like seniors and juniors. Leaning against the tan brick, Dick watched them with curious eyes. He noticed group of kids his age with iPhones. Girl with long sculpted hair were wearing UGGS and leggings and black Northfaces. He stared at them, uninterested, he honestly didn't understand how people found that attractive, especially when he overheard one girl dropping the F-bomb every few words. He didn't judge against clothing and what people wore, but from his association with people that dressed liked that, he was wary.

Shaking his head, he saw groups of kids with Midtown High School duffel bags that said what sport they played and people with instruments all walking around and chatting with each other. He did notice an obvious junior with a big white and green Letterman jacket on. He was tall, fairly well muscled, though not as much as Superboy, and blonde. He was speaking animatedly with a taller black boy, also wearing a letterman, though he looked to be more relaxed.

At 7:45 first bell rang and Dick, along with a hoard of other students, filed into the school, setting off toward their lockers. Dick glanced down at his schedule, which had his locker number, though ignored it and walked toward his first class, which was H. English nine. Despite being bad at English, he still put himself into the Honors class. He wasn't fond of the English language; he'd grown up around Romani and often found himself making fun of it. Words he'd made, Aster, Turbed, Traught, Whelmed (overwhelmed and under-whelmed, why isn't anyone just whelmed!?) were prime examples.

He began walking through the halls toward his classroom, D244, passing hoards of students. Freshmen, he figured, stared at him curiously. A few boys, who wore khakis and big Nikes with neon colors and Northface's, were staring at his clothing, which made Dick feel ashamed to be called a boy. He walked up a large set of stairs, passing a girl that was jumping up and down and telling people to join Anime Club, because apparently they were cosplaying tomorrow. Dick laughed to himself, her Finn hat kept falling off. After passing through the Science Department, Dick was in the English Hallway. He walked through, looking at the room numbers.

He found D244 and walked in.

The classroom was set up facing a large smart board and a desk with a computer and projector on it. A teacher was sitting at another desk across the room, right by a window that overlooked the football field, clicking away on a nice looking computer. Dick walked forward, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Um, is this Mrs. Birch?"

The teacher looked up and surprised Dick, because she was fairly young looking. She was pretty too, with a t-shirt depicting a T-show and a pair of nice jeans and some heels.

"Yes, how may I help you?"

Dick gulped. "You see, my name is Richard Grayson and I'm new-"

She cut him off, though she was smiling. "Say no more, I saw you on my list this morning. Your seat is right over there, do you have a binder? Agenda book?"

Dick shook his head. "I need a Syllabus I guess."

She pursed her lips and turned back to her computer. "Alright, I'll print you one out and give it to you after class. Where are you right now?"

The second bell rang at 7:55 and kids began to show up, he could feel their stares one his back.

"Poetry," Dick replied, opening his mouth to continue and then shutting it. He was about to say the name of the poem, but then figured it would look odd if it didn't exist in this dimension. Nodding in confirmation he said, "Yeah, Poetry."

She nodded and then told him where to sit, walking into the front of the class to set up the power point. He sat there awkwardly, his backpack by his side. People were staring at him, though none made any move to talk to him. Dick was pleasantly okay with this; actually he was more than fine with it. As the bell rang at 8:00, Mrs. Birch began her class with him finding himself in the front of the class staring at a bunch of unblinking, judge-filled faces.

"Student's, this is a new student. Richard, you can start."

Dick gulped. "Uh, hi. My name is Richard and don't call me Rich. I, uh…" He paused, thinking of something he liked. Gymnastics, art, fighting, his friends, family, being a hero; tons of stuff.

"Um, I like to read."

Holy crap who was he?

He quickly walked back to his seat and sat down. He'd had to pass about three seats of kids all staring him down to get to his seat in the back of class. Right behind him was a large boy with bright red hair. He sat down in his seat, leaning over as to not meet his new classmates' faces.

Someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. The kid with the red hair said in a serious voice, "You looked like shit up there."

Dick turned around, his face going red.

He had a feeling this school would be interesting.


AVENGERS TOWER


"Bruce?"

Bruce Banner glanced up to see Natasha Romanov glaring down at him. He set down his tea, which was helping him calm down his nerves, and sat back in his chair.

"Yes?"

"I want you," she jabbed her finger at him, "to tell me what is going on between you and Tony!"

Bruce looked startled. He let go of his tea cup, looking like he wasn't hiding anything and stood up, leaning toward Natasha. "What do you mean?"

"I mean whatever you've been hiding; I can tell that something happened between you too. The tension is so thick I can almost touch it, literally I think that the green hazy stuff I saw yesterday was it."

"I'm not sure what you're implying, we aren't hiding anything-" lie "-I mean, Tony is acting a bit odd, he's shut himself down in the lab more times than I can count, but Pepper says that's normal."

Natasha waited patiently as he went on the defense. If Bruce were ever in an interrogation. He'd be out in a minutes. He went on in exaggerated, desperate gestures with his hands, telling her how just because he and Tony hadn't been talking didn't mean there was anything wrong. Pepper said Tony lost interest in a lot of things, including people. Bruce was busy with stuff and so maybe Tony was just tired and busy with his own stuff. Natasha kept staring and Bruce kept talking.

"Look," she cut in after a good five minutes, "I don't believe any of that crap. You and Tony pissed each other off; probably Tony's fault and now you won't talk to each other. Now, what caused you to be upset about whatever it is?"

Bruce didn't say anything for a long while and Natasha was getting tired of him looking around. He obviously didn't want to tell her, which just proved her point of how serious it was. He opened his mouth a few times but then snapped it shut. She smirked at him.

"Look, well you see, it's really stupid."

"Tell me."

And so then Bruce went on a rant of how he spilled some coffee on Tony's really, really important notes for the next Iron Man suit.

Knowing Tony, Natasha believed him.


DICK'S APARTMENT


Dick woke to someone knocking on his apartment door, something he was not used to.

He grabbed a Batarang from under his pillow and threw off his armada of blankets. Tip-toeing toward the door, he swung it open to see Tony Stark with a bright red and silver briefcase.

Mr. Stark grinned. "Hello," he remarked cheerfully.

Dick opened his mouth to retort in some sarcastic way, but Stark pushed past him with his briefcase.

"A nice place you've got here, love the computer."

"How did you find me?" Dick snapped, slamming the door shut. Mr. Stark turned and looked at him with a serious face. "With some difficulty, you're good at hiding."

Dick pushed down the feeling that spread through him, it was pride. Dick didn't want to feel as though Tony Stark made him feel good, because only one person made him feel like that, and he was in a different dimension.

"I know and I like being hidden, why are you here?"

Mr. Stark's smile vanished. "I'm here to give you another offer."

"I don't want it," Dick said hastily, though a voice in the back of his head was screaming "yes! Yes take it!" Mr. Stark stared him skeptically, almost as if he knew Dick wanted it.

"Why?" he asked.

Dick blanched, almost tumbling backward. "What?"

"I said why? You're choosing to live in an apartment with no heat or air condition, you chose to live with nothing and here I come, with my offer, and you refuse. Why?"

Dick didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell him the conflicting emotions that went through him every time he thought about Iron Man's offer, because he didn't even know him. Then again, he hadn't even known Bruce but he'd said yes to go live with him.

At first, he though, maybe Bruce would think he betrayed him. Maybe he won't, he thought, maybe Bruce would think that Dick had just agreed to stay with Stark as a sort of refuge. Bruce would understand, Dick knew he would.

One year.

Dick scowled.

"I don't know, I just…"

He noticed Tony shift toward his computer, his hand had shifted ever so slightly so it was concealed by his pant leg, and he saw it flick out, a small metal bug flying out to attach itself toward his computer. Dick let no emotion show on his face.

"I'll think about it."

Lie.

"You will?" Dick felt bad, because Tony Stark actually looked pleased.

"Maybe," Dick inquired. "Now get out, please and don't come back. I'll contact you if I need anything and if I decide to come."

Another lie.

He could see even Mr. Stark looked skeptical, though now he was by the door, hand on the iron handle. "I'm glad."

And then he was gone.


EARTH-16


It had only been one day since Dick was gone.

He'd been taken at 5:34 in the morning and now it was 5:34 in the morning.

Thing had been flying.

They had accomplished more in one day than they did in a week, normally.

They were almost done with the converter, so close. Batman was frantic to get it done, though everyone could tell he was tired, probably because he hadn't slept since last week because of another mission he'd been working on. He was telling people what to do and they didn't argue, because he was angry and frustrated and didn't want to deal with any shit. Honestly, he was just trying to get his son back.

"Diana?" He called out, glancing over the blue-prints.

The Amazonian Princess floated down from the ceiling. "Yes?"

"How far along are we?

Diana scrunched up her nose, it seemed like she was asked this question a lot. "Far enough, Bruce. We're all tired and where every Dick is he'll be alright."

Bruce ignored her. "What are we doing now?"

"Well," Diana sighed, throwing him a look. "We've gotten the base built and I'm pretty sure Flash is setting in the computers with Kid."

Bruce nodded and then turned away.

I'm coming, he thought, I'm coming for you, my little bird.

To Be Continued…


Time Difference:

1 Year Earth Prime = 1 Day Earth 16

Official Chosen soundtrack will be on my Tumblr: www. fighter1357. tumblr. com. Go to the pages link and it'll say "Dimensional Official Chosen Soundtrack".