A/N: Speedy update! So, I'm pretty proud of this chapter too, actually. Artemis made me laugh, which is lame, I know. Annnd, Dick wasn't really supposed to punch anyone and Bruce was supposed to come in, but I guess he'll have to wait until next chapter.
Thanks to the reviewers! You guys are cool and make me laugh and smile and scratch my head in confusion! It's great!
Soccernin19: The cave was heaven? Jk, I know what you mean. But thank you, I'm glad you felt the pain! I'm mean, yeah, whatever….
ZeldaIsis: Thank you! Well done, Bruce.
KaliAnn: Girl time! Yeah, I'm hoping they will too. They're long overdue and I keep telling them to come, but for some reason they're not….
Grayson-lover-101: Well, thank you! I do love pulling strings ;)
Red Blaze 16: Good thoughts, good thoughts….
Brightpath2: Good, I'm glad. Thanks!
YJFanYeah: I love your reviews because you blow up my ego like a balloon! Yeah, sulking sucks, Dick, gosh. Glad I chilled ya. Thanks again!
Fluffsterzz: And again, there goes the ego. I'm trying to tame it. Jk, thanks for the amazing review! You really made my night :). And yeah, Supernatural is amazing. Say hi to Dean for me. He's mah man!
Anyways, this chapter includes a little bit of sexual references/pedophilia stuff, but not graphic or detailed and it's only references so no actual stuff. Sorry if it bothers you or anything, you can blame William. Speaking of which, if anyone can figure out William's movie reference, props to you!
Artemis leaned against her locker, exhausted. She subconsciously checked to make sure she was wearing the necessities because honestly, she'd been so out of it that morning that she worried. Satisfied that everything was where it should be, she started twisting her lock, not really even trying for the combination, her brain too dead to even function on such a small level. Maybe if she kept turning it long enough it would open anyway. Get so frustrated with her twisting that it would just figure that satisfying her demands would be the quickest way to end its pain.
Great, now she was trying to torture her lock.
Vaguely, Artemis wondered if Wally was struggling as much as she was at his school. Probably more, actually. The kid struggled on a normal day. Of course Roy got sleep in as long as he wanted. Him and Jade, possibly together. Artemis fought to keep the mental image from her head. Too early, too early, too early….
Students started to stream in the doors, clogging up the hallway and creating general pandemonium. Artemis winced as a body slammed against her back, right on her sore shoulder. Her dad had a solid kick. And he wasn't the only one. All of his goons were fairly skilled, but, Artemis mused, her dad only accepted the best. He told her that more than enough times for it to be fairly well-ingrained in her very being. Thankfully, she had had some of the best at her side as well, so the fight was pretty evenly matched. Except Wally. His speed was a one-up on Sportsmaster's 'ordinary' hoods.
Artemis smiled a little, remembering how originally, she hadn't wanted the speedster to tag along at all. When she'd first gone to Roy about her 'family problems' (though honestly, her whole family was a problem in itself), she'd been adamant about leaving West out of it. It wasn't that she didn't trust the kid or thought he couldn't handle himself, but… she knew her dad and what he was capable of and didn't trust him not use Wally's suffering (or death) against her. Roy, on the other hand, was fair game.
Eventually, though, after Artemis had explained to the other archer all the details of the threats left to her mother and how she was pretty sure time was running out, Roy had convinced her that if they were going to do anything to stop her dad they needed some backup and if Artemis wasn't willing to call in the League (though neither was Roy, that hypocrite) then Wally was a pretty safe bet. Though Wally had turned into Jade and soon Artemis had felt she was part of the awkward/gross couples' creepy basement party.
Going to Roy in the first place had been… difficult. Artemis didn't trust people, usually period. There were the few exceptions like Robin and Robin, but other than that, even 'friends' were to be suspected. Wally and Barbara were steadily climbing to trust ladder, as was Green Arrow, only because he was too clueless to be suspicious, but Roy… he was just about at the bottom. Or at least, that's what Artemis had thought until she'd found herself desperately waiting outside Roy's apartment one Saturday for the freaking Red Arrow to answer the door.
After that, Artemis supposed she hadn't really had farther to fall until she followed Roy's words like gospel - even when those words involved inviting her super-villain sister with benefits (to Roy) along for the ride. Since when were they dating? Artemis had no idea. Since when was Jade willing to help her? Again, Artemis had no idea. And since when did Jade hate freckles? Neither Artemis nor Wally had any idea.
It had been a real party to be sure; hanging out in Roy's basement, Jade taunting Wally, Roy giving Jade the goo-goo eyes, Wally hiding in the refrigerator, and Artemis yelling at everything and everyone. Yeah, a real luau. Eventually they'd managed to get down to business and eventually defeat the Huns; Jade had a lot of inside information that she was surprisingly willing to give away and Roy was actually fairly good at drawing diagrams and Wally was really good at math. Artemis was good at everything, but she already knew that. They'd all geared up last night and met with Sportsmaster and his gang on a rooftop in Gotham (the plan had been to meet them inside the building which they believed Lawrence Crock to be using as his hideout while in Gotham, but things never went as planned) and had a fairly intense showdown between the sidekicks and the hockey mask ninjas.
Jade had actually taken a few said ninjas, to Artemis's surprise, and had seemed genuinely willing to go after their dad. Artemis had no idea where or when the change of heart happened, but she figured a certain redhead had something to do it (and not the one with freckles). That, or she'd finally figured out who the good parent was. Either way, in the end they'd managed to defeat Sportsmaster's meagre forces (he obviously thought he hadn't needed many to take down a lady in a wheelchair, no matter how kick butt she used to be) and Artemis and Jade had together cornered their dad on the edge of the building, forced him to spill about the threats (Artemis was fairly certain he'd told the truth as Jade was ruthless and he knew that) before he'd leaped to his death. Or to a plane, or something. Either way.
The only downside (well, okay, there were many downsides, including having to work with her sister and Roy – together) was that the mission had gone on well into the night and Artemis hadn't gotten home until well past midnight. Not to mention she'd had a hard time falling asleep after all the lovely details Jade had told her about her and Roy's relationship. And all the tips she'd graciously been given regarding Wally and many things Artemis didn't want to think about – ever. Roy had found it all hilariously amusing and Wally had been so out of it he'd thought Jade had been flirting with him so it was a hard night.
"Um, you do realize you're turning the lock to my locker, right?"
Artemis looked up to see bright blue eyes and messy black hair.
"I – oh." Artemis pushed herself away, letting Dick take her place. Of course she'd seen him arrive. She looked out for him every day, wondering when he'd finally return to the lovely, uh, hole that was Gotham Academy. Finally seeing the familiar black Mercedes pull up to the front gates and the familiar small form get out of the car… Artemis had been shocked, actually. He was finally back.
She'd watched him unsteadily gather his backpack from the car and slowly limp up the long front walkway, the rest of the students mercifully already inside the building. Her eyes caught the limp quickly – there was no way the boy could disguise it. She saw the way he kept his right hand in his pocket, the way he kept his head down. Now that he was closer she saw the bones in his back, sticking out through his skin and uniform, matching his unusually scrawny limbs and narrow face. As she watched him twist the lock and open the locker she was surprised to see on his face just the barest hint of – dust? Or makeup, to hide the scar. And not only that –
"I'm really digging the hair, Grayson," she smirked, leaning against her own locker next to his. She reached out and gently tousled the growing locks, free of their usual gel restraints.
"Thanks," Dick replied, pulling a few books from his locker and replacing them with his backpack. "I guess it's short enough Bruce doesn't mind me not gelling it? I dunno, didn't really ask him."
"Well, I think you should keep it like that. Makes you look like less of a prick."
Dick only rolled his eyes, tucking his books under one arm. When he turned to look at the archer, his eyes narrowed. "You sleep at all last night?"
Artemis grunted. "Hardly."
Dick nodded in understanding. "Busy night?"
"Well, actually-" Artemis stopped. Suddenly she was aware that Dick didn't know about… anything that had happened the last night. She'd told him earlier about her daddy troubles, but he'd been having so many of his own that she hadn't updated him much after that. He had no idea what had transpired the past week. It was then that Artemis realized; Robin had always been her go-to about anything that wasn't mom territory. But now… she'd replaced him. Or something like that. She couldn't help it, as Dick was in no position to be even thinking about Sportsmaster for a long time, but still, she'd gone to someone else. And, from the way it sounded, maybe would always have to.
"-Actually, it was a busy night," Artemis finished.
Dick nodded. "Well, I think we're already late," he finally said. "It was good seeing you again."
"Yeah…."
"Maybe we can… do something, sometime."
"Yeah, definitely."
"Okay, well, see you around."
"See ya." As Artemis watched Dick turn and walk away, their strangled conversation still hanging in the air, she suddenly realized something had changed between them. Something had been… lost. Where previously there had been a bond of trust and friendship, something so natural that Artemis had always felt able to say anything around or to Dick (more so than usual) was now replaced by something… tight, constrained. Dick was so… distant and Artemis couldn't help but see him as… fragile. Like the wrong words would send him over the edge, break him into tiny little pieces. She knew it wasn't fair to him to feel like that – if that past months had proved anything it was that Dick was the toughest person Artemis knew – but still, the feeling persisted.
Artemis let out a choked sigh as she felt a tightness in the back of her throat that she was unaccustomed to. She felt like she had lost something… something so vital to her very being. It was ironic, really; the whole time he'd been actually lost, Artemis had felt… maybe not strong, but at least driven and determined. She'd never really let herself believe he was gone; she'd always told herself she'd get him back. Only now that he was back Artemis saw how much she'd really lost him. He was no longer the Robin she knew: squirrelly, hyper, excitable, and fierce. Now he was… something else. A shell of himself.
Artemis wanted to cry. The Artemis Crock wanted to cry. She wanted to mourn; for her friend she'd lost, for her inability to save him in time. As Artemis walked to class, memories of Robin started playing through her mind; the time she first met him and she wanted to strangle him on the spot; when they'd been forced to save the Team from giant red robots all by themselves; sneaking out together; trolling poor Barbara at school; fighting man-eating plants and oversized gorillas and clowns and brains and talking icicles….
But it was all only memories now. Artemis pushed them away, slipping silently into her chemistry class and taking her seat against the back wall. That Robin was gone, she told herself. It was over now; she'd tried to save him and failed, so it was time to move on. It was over, gone, just like everything else in her life. Break the ties before the ties break you. Artemis felt horrible about it; she knew Dick wouldn't abandon her just like that, but then again, that boy was so much better than her. So much better at fixing things. She wasn't. She watched them break and then walked away. End of story.
You owe him.
No, she didn't owe him anything. She'd tried to find him, her debt was paid.
He'd do it, for you.
But she wasn't him. Never would be, never could be.
Just try.
Just try? But what if she messed up? She didn't know how to do this. She didn't fix things, she ditched them.
Just try….
oOo
Dick could feel every eye in the classroom on him as he entered the room and slowly made his way to his desk. Voices were whispering everywhere rumors about what had happened, where he'd been, what he'd been doing. Dick tried to block them out, desperate not to hear the things that were said about him. He found his desk and slowly deposited his books on top, carefully keeping his eyes trained on the whiteboard in front of the room. He noticed that Barbara wasn't in her seat yet and fervently hoped she would show up soon. Now was not a good day for her to miss. He should've texted her.
Dick rested his bad hand on the top of his desk, carefully laying his other one in front of it. His arm was already hurting and he'd just taken his meds. Or had he? That morning had been… a blur, to say the least and he honestly couldn't remember. After being rudely awakened by his alarm clock and then having to stop Ace from attacking the thing, he'd actually had to get out of his bed right away. No lying around and enjoying the warmth. As soon as he'd entered his bathroom, the butterflies had started, soon turning into a giant whale consistently belly flopping around in his stomach.
Alfred had managed to coax some breakfast into him but the whale only joined the usual nausea and Dick had ended up throwing it up. After that Alfred had let him go get dressed. Of course, his school uniform no longer fit and he'd been forced to cinch up the belt nearly as tight as it went. Thankfully the pants fit around his knee brace, though the shirt sleeve around his wrist brace was a bit tighter fit. During the struggle that was buttoning Bruce had entered his room and Dick could tell by the man's face he was… unhappy about something. He thought it was probably how pathetic he'd looked standing in front of the mirror struggling to button his shirt that hung off him like a pole, his chopped hair sticking up in weird ways.
Surprisingly, Bruce had, after finishing the buttoning job because they were late and had to leave, only smoothed down his hair and let it hang over his face. Dick liked that. But then the question of the scar came up and there were a few awkward moments as Bruce mentioned it and Dick acknowledged it and already knew he didn't want his classmates to see it and so Bruce had helped him put concealer on it, all the while awkwardly attempting to tell Dick that it didn't look bad and he still loved him or something and blah blah blah. Dick was glad that situation was over and hopefully wouldn't arise again. He could handle his own makeup, thank you very much.
"Grayson, good to have you back. The class was starting to look bad without your genius propping it up."
Dick wanted nothing more than to bury his face in arms and never come out again but forced his head to remain standing.
"Hey, Grayson, you hear me?" William, a privileged (like anyone in the school wasn't) junior who thought he was just about the coolest, most suave person in the world, sat two rows behind Dick and seemed to think he owned the class. The truth was, he thought he was better at world history than he actually was and Dick usually ended up showing him up (completely unintentional of course). Dick wasn't the genius as history that the class thought he was, but touring the world with his family in the circus had definitely gifted him with a vast repertoire of world knowledge.
"Yeah, Will, thanks," Dick replied, still not turning around. He glanced at the clock and prayed Mr. Hanquist would walk in soon.
"I heard that, uh, ski trip was pretty rough. You got pretty banged up and stuff, huh?"
Dick could hear William's friends snickering around him and Dick fought the urge to sigh. This was not how he wanted to start his first day back. "Yeah, it was rough," was all Dick gave in reply to the older boy.
"What about getting banged up? That happen too? Lots of banging?" William was nearly laughing himself now and Dick could just picture the smug look on the boy's face. "Were they hot? I mean, I know gypsy women always get the cream of the crop but what about the men?" The crowd was loving it and William was feeding off it. "I guess you're not really a man yet, which makes me wonder how you got involved in it all in the first place. Was it Bruce? He get you into it? He start it? He do it first? I mean, I'm sure it wasn't women. No girl would go off with a runt like you, but Mr. Wayne…."
Dick was clenching his teeth now. At the mention of Bruce he started shaking, whether with anger or something else, he wasn't sure. "Shut up, Will," he managed to get out.
Will paid him no heed and just kept talking, the whole class now enraptured in the sick story the junior was spinning. "I never tagged Wayne as pedo, but you can never tell. How long's it been going on? Since you got here? Maybe Wayne's just recently decided to share the wealth, if you know what I mean. Make a few more bucks to keep himself in that fancy house, huh?"
"Will, I said shut up." Dick felt himself turning around, his hands balling into fists. He wasn't ready for this. He knew his emotions were haywire right now and his arm and leg were starting to hurt and he wondered if he'd actually taken his pills this morning and the energy bar Bruce had forced on him in the car after he'd puked up breakfast wasn't too happy in his stomach.
"What about the butler? He know about it? Maybe he's in on it. Old man, just trying to-"
That did it. At the mention of Alfred Dick was out of his seat and at William's desk before the older could finish his sentence.
"Strike a nerve did I, circus boy?"
"Shut. Up." Dick growled, his hands clenched at his side as he fought to remain calm.
"You're telling me to shut up?" William was slouched in his chair, his face a perfect mask of smugness and faked innocence. Most of the girls thought he was deadly attractive and Dick had even seen Barbara sneaking glances at him once or twice, but at that moment, Dick wanted to break his face so badly he'd never attract another female glance again. "Come on, kid," William continued. "I'm just trying to find out what really happened. I'm here for you, bud, if you need to talk about-"
Dick left hand came out flying and landed squarely in William's handsome nose. There wasn't a crack and Dick knew he hadn't punched hard enough to break anything, but blood spurted out anyway and Will's hand flew to his face. He sat shocked for a minute, feeling the blood on his upper lip before lowering his hands.
"Is that really the best you can do, runt?" He asked, standing up so he was towering over Dick. Dick instinctively took a step back, if only to get a better view of the boy's face. "Oh, you think you can hit me and get away with it, is that it, circus boy?" Will effortlessly closed the gap between them and Dick's nose nearly touched his broad chest.
The entire class was turned towards the two boys, some standing on desks to get a better view. Dick knew he was in no shape to fight. He may be far more talented than William but his knee and arm would hold him back severely from properly defending himself. He felt the adrenaline coursing through his body as his instincts prepared him for a fight that he desperately hoped wouldn't happen.
William's arm shot out and slapped Dick squarely across the chest, forcing him into the desk behind him and pinning him there. Dick inhaled sharply as his bad leg bent roughly and was twisted painfully sideways. Just as Dick was about to attempt an escaped maneuver that he knew would hurt, the door banged open and Mr. Hanquist and Barbara Gordon walked into the room. They both froze at the sight of the two boys facing off and the entire class watching in enthrallment.
"Boys!" Mr. Hanquist barked and Dick was relieved when William straightened, letting his arm drop from Dick's chest. Dick took a deep breath, wincing as he straightened his bad knee. "What is going on in here?" Mr. Hanquist was a middle-aged man, or so Dick guessed. His age was hard to pinpoint as his hair was white but his face was fairly young and he had enough energy for an entire class of two-year-olds.
William turned around to face the teacher, probably to show off his face so he could tattle on Dick without actually sounding like he was tattling.
"What happened to your nose, Mr. Bennett?"
Will motioned to Dick and Mr. Hanquist sighed. "Both of you, out in the hall."
Dick followed William out into the hall as Mr. Hanquist turned to address the rest of the class. As he passed Barbara she raised a concerned eyebrow at him and he only shook his head. This was not how wanted to spend his first day back. He didn't want to get in a fight, didn't want to have to deal with jerks like William, and definitely didn't want to be sent to the hall by his favorite teacher. He was already exhausted and Dick couldn't help wondering if maybe he'd come back too soon. If he'd waited longer, maybe he would have had the self-restraint not to punch William in the nose.
He dejectedly leaned against a wall once out in the hall, William casually leaning against a trophy case a few feet away. They waited in silence for a few moments, Dick staring down at his feet while William wiped at the blood on his face and sighed every few seconds. Soon Mr. Hanquist came out of the room, quickly shutting the door and turning to face the boys.
"Explanation, either of you."
Neither boy spoke and Dick avoided eye contact with older man in front of him. They stood like that for a good minute and Dick started drilling himself on the layout of the tile below his feet. Speck of dirt just below the left corner, black streak running along the right side near the bottom, slight crack near the top right corner….
Mr. Hanquist put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Nothing?" Still silence. "Alright, well, Mr. Bennett, go get cleaned up. Mr. Grayson, come with me."
Dick sighed as he pushed himself off the wall, exchanging a quick glance with William as the older boy headed for the bathrooms. Dick followed Mr. Hanquist down the hall, having to hurry to keep up with the man's quick gate and soon Dick's knee was groaning protest. He was just glad that Mr. Hanquist's office was on the main floor.
They arrived in the small, square rom and Mr. Hanquist motioned for Dick to take a seat as he shut the door. Dick gingerly lowered himself into the padded chair and let his bad leg rest out in front of his body. Mr. Hanquist took a seat across the ridiculously cluttered desk and leaned back in the swivel chair, regarding Dick thoughtfully. Dick held the teacher's gaze for a moment before letting his eyes fall to the papers strewn across the oak surface in front of him. The overhead light was bright and Dick felt a headache coming on, his vision getting blurry.
"So, Dick." Mr. Hanquist was one of Dick's favorite teachers and he'd been in the man's office multiple times for help on projects and just discussions about history and Dick's past. He liked the man and liked how he agreed to call him Dick when they were alone and not Mr. Grayson. "I've never known you to be a particularly violent person and unless that drastically changed while on the ski trip, care to tell me why you socked Mr. Bennett in the nose?"
"I-" Dick wasn't really sure what to say.
"Would it have anything to do, by chance, with the rumors that have been spreading about your absence?"
Dick nodded, still not meeting Mr. Hanquist's gaze.
"I thought so. You know, most people don't believe them."
"That's – that's not really what I'm worried about," Dick sighed. He just didn't like hearing those things about Alfred and Bruce. It pushed his buttons and Dick Grayson didn't have many buttons.
"I see," Mr. Hanquist nodded. "What exactly was Mr. Bennett saying?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
There was a long pause and Dick was worried the man was going to make spill but finally he just said: "fair enough." Mr. Hanquist's chair creaked as he readjusted his position, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. "I'm not going to send you to the principal's because frankly that woman's got enough on her hands and I don't think it would be fair to subject you to her overworked wrath on your first day back. However, I am going to have to contact your father about this."
"Guardian," Dick automatically corrected.
"Right, guardian, sorry." Mr. Hanquist uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. Dick felt his gaze on his head for a long minute before he spoke again. "How are you, Dick? When I heard about what happened…."
"I'm okay, Mr. Hanquist," Dick replied, finally looking up into the man's eyes.
"Good. I've missed you in class. You've always been the most curious student in my class and I really enjoy that."
Dick smiled a little. "Thanks. I've missed class too."
"It's good to have you back,"Mr. Hanquist smiled. Then he stood and straightened his tie. "Well, I should get back. I think you should take the rest of the period off. It's a quiz today anyway, so there wouldn't be much for you to do." Mr. Hanquist bounced over to the door and pulled it open. "I'll get you a copy of what you've missed and give it to you tomorrow."
"Thanks."
"Feel free to stay in here if you want. Just be gone by passing period or the other teachers might arrest you." Mr. Hanquist gave Dick a wink before disappearing out the door.
oOo
Dick's next class was calculus which he knew nobody in and was immensely glad about it. It was nearly all upper classmen, mostly seniors, all too nerdy to pay attention to rumors. They were all glad Dick was back as they'd missed him on the Mathletes, but other than welcoming him back, they left him alone. It was heaven. Though the rest of the class was anything but.
The classroom was big and white and the overhead lights were bright and obnoxious. Dick was considerably behind in the class and his teacher gave him a large workbook to catch up with and told him to start working on it. The pages were white and reflected the light from the ceiling perfectly, capitalizing on its headache-giving ability.
As Dick picked up his pencil he was suddenly faced with the other side of the horror that was high school: the thinking. Taking a deep breath, Dick opened the daunting packet of calculus problems and struggled to focus on the first one. 'Struggled' being the key word. Staring down at the tiny numbers printed on the ugly paper, Dick found his eyes blurring in and out of focus, the numbers dancing around the page and refusing to stay put. He brought up his left hand to try to cover his bad eye, but somehow that only him dizzy.
He glanced up and found the teacher, an older lady in a white coat, droning on about something on the board. Lady, white coat…. Dick shook the thoughts away, turning his attention back to what was in front of him. It was a '2'… no, '5'… '6'?
"…Natural logarithm to the base 'e'…."
The lights were really bright. Really, really bright. They were shining in his face and in his eyes and lights… lights were bad! Lights were really bad! They meant needles and voices and pain and… no, no, this was math class. Just numbers. Just numbers… that hurt. The numbers hurt so bad and his eyes… they wouldn't focus, they wouldn't stay put. The stupid numbers. They hurt. And the lights… the lights meant pain. Lights… not good… No! Focus, math class. Write something. Pencil, paper, numbers….
"…And when it's raised to the power of 'x' it's the same thing as saying…."
Pencil. Focus on the pencil. Put the pencil on the paper. Write numbers. Just write numbers. Answer the problem. But it hurt. Writing hurt. His wrist… the brace… he couldn't bend his hand right and his fingers hurt. They wouldn't obey him. He couldn't control he pencil. He couldn't feel the pencil. It was slippery, so slippery. He kept dropping it. And it hurt. His arm hurt. The numbers hurt. The light hurt. And the coat…. That white coat. And the voice. A woman's voice, talking, whispering, singing….
Pain.
Light.
Voices.
Needles.
Pain.
It hurt!
No!
Escape!
Black out. That's it, let the darkness take hold.
The darkness….
No! Math class, paper, pencil. Remember….
But it hurt….
Dick stood up abruptly, his good hand flying to hold his screaming head as his bad arm curled to his chest. His knees hit his desk as he flung himself away, his hurt knee sending shocks of pain up his leg. Ignoring the looks the whole class was giving him, Dick threw himself out of the room as fast as he could. He vaguely heard Mrs. Sigmund calling after him but the only thought on his mind was escape. He had to get out.
Once in the hall, Dick fled from the room and the lights and the numbers and the pencils and the coat and followed the darkness. His head was pounding and his vision was dancing as he tried to navigate the empty halls. He found the stairs and hopped down them as fast as he could. At the bottom he turned left and continued down the hallway until he found a side corridor lacking windows and collapsed against the wall. There were no other students or teachers in sight and Dick drew his good knee up to his chest and buried his face in it, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing. He started coughing at one point as his damaged lungs cried in protest but eventually he was breathing evenly enough.
Cautiously, Dick allowed his eyes to flicker open as he took in the small side hallway that he was sitting in. It was off the main entrance hall and housed a lone trophy case with a few small trophies from decades ago, their recipients long-forgotten. It was dark, or as dark as anywhere could be in the middle of the day, and there were only a few doors scattered along its length. Dick knew one led to an old gymnasium no longer used and the other ones were probably janitor's closets.
"Come on, get it together Grayson."
Dick tried taking a breath but only ended up coughing again. Dick's right arm rested against his stomach, the entire limb aching as his fingers burned in pain. His knee was sore from so much walking and his head felt like it was going to split in half. "Who am I kidding? I can't… go back to normal." Dick coughed again as he felt tears burning in his eyes. "I am weak."
Dick pulled out his phone, carefully pulling up his contacts and typing a short message on the screen. "I'm sorry, Bruce, I tried," he whispered before hitting send. The message flashed before him as it was delivered to his guardian:
I can't do this.
Thanks for reading and please review!
Alex out.