I'm so glad some of you liked "Future: Reversed." That's actually really good considering I have ideas for more of those chapters in the works. ;)

But for now, I hope you enjoy another "Flashback" chapter. I do not own any of these characters save the return of Raymond, and the teacher, Eleanor Frasier.

Dick rushed around his room, eagerly stuffing his backpack with everything he was going to need. While most kids would be groaning about the first day of school, Dick was beyond excited. He had never been to Gotham Academy before, or any school, for that matter. That was mostly because his parents had always homeschooled him due to the fact that they were always on the road. Traveling with Haly's Circus was super fun, but it was going to be fun to attend a public school regularly.

What was even better was that Bruce was taking him to school, and was also planning on picking him up afterward. Dick didn't get to see a whole lot of Bruce during the day, or ever, really. But things were going to be different today, Dick knew.

"Let's see." Dick paused in his scurrying about to do a mental checklist. "Pencils, check. Notebooks, check. Lunch money, check. Uniform jacket..." He looked down at the white button up and red tie he was wearing, noticing that the navy blazer was missing.

"Oops!" He laughed, snatching up the missing clothing from where it was draped over the end of his bed. "Can't forget that."

He slipped it on and glanced in the mirror on his bathroom door, checking to make sure that the blazer was straight. He moved his head in a satisfied nod before saying with a pleased smile, "Check."

Dick then threw his backpack over his shoulder, his smile widening. Bruce hadn't been available the day he had went school shopping, so he had gone with Wally and Barry. Fortunately for him, Barry had let him pick out whichever backpack he wanted, so Dick had chosen a black one with light blue elephants on it.

Speaking of, that was the one thing he wasn't looking forward to about school. Wally didn't go to Gotham Academy. Dick had been sad when he had heard the news, but he had perked up when Wally promised to come over to do homework at Wayne Manor from time to time.

"Bruce, I'm ready!" Dick called as he slid down the banister that led to the foyer, bypassing the stairs. He knew Bruce preferred that he use the stairs, but he was far too stoked to go the boring way.

He landed gracefully on his feet, barely making a sound. But his bright smile faded some when he approached the front doors and found that Alfred was standing there. Bruce was nowhere in sight, as usual.

"Master Bruce sends his apologies, Master Richard," Alfred said, his expression as calm as ever, though there was a hint of pity in his eyes. "But he cannot take you to school today."

"Did work come up," Dick asked, his deflated tone making the question sound more like a fact.

"I am afraid so. However, I would be more than willing to escort you to Gotham Academy, if you will let me."

Some of the light came back into Dick's eyes when he saw how hopeful Alfred was. He knew that the butler just wanted Dick to be happy. How could Dick say no? "I'd like that, Alfred. Thank you."

Alfred smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Very well, then."

Dick followed Alfred out to the car, the skip in his step returning a tad. "Will Bruce be able to pick me up after school?"

"He hopes so, sir."

Dick, being eight, took that as a yes, and his step became as lighthearted as it had been when he had first gotten up that morning. Today was going to be great. He would get to school, make loads of new friends, and then get a ride home with Bruce. He was excited once again, and he couldn't sit still on the car ride there, bouncing up and down in the backseat until Alfred asked him to stop because he was shaking the vehicle.

Once they had arrived at the front gates, Dick didn't even wait for Alfred to get out of the car and open his door. He just pushed the door open himself and hopped out of the car, bouncing on his toes as his widened eyes took in the sight of Gotham Academy. It reminded him a lot of Wayne Manor.

"Thanks for the ride, Alfred," Dick said politely, reaching back into the car and slipping his backpack over his shoulders. "I'll see you later. You're making my favorite for dinner tonight, right?"

Alfred nodded, closing the door after Dick had gotten out. "Yes. Ciorbă de perișoare, is it? Sour soup with meatballs?"

Dick's mouth watered just thinking about it. He doubted Alfred could make the soup as well as his mother did, but Alfred was still a pretty good cook. "Yup!"

"Then I will make sure there is a heaping serving of ciorbă de perișoare waiting for you, Master Richard."

"Thank you!" Dick said with a grin and a wave before trotting away from Alfred and through the gates of Gotham Academy, observing his surroundings as he went.

There were kids of all different ages, ranging from Dick's age to teenagers. Bruce had told him that Gotham Academy taught kids of all ages due to the fact that it was a prestigious school. Because of that, it didn't admit many kids. Just the really special ones, Bruce had said. Dick had taken that to mean the really rich and/or important ones.

Dick also noticed how everyone seemed to be bigger than him, even the kids that looked like they were either his age or younger. But that was okay. He was used to being smaller than everyone else.

Beginning to notice that people were moving around him and heading inside, Dick snapped out of his trance and hurried through the doors. He glanced at his hand where he had scribbled down his locker number and combination. He had tried to memorize the numbers, but he had been too excited to sit still long enough to do so.

It took a minute, but Dick finally found his locker and spun the lock open, hanging his backpack on a hook inside. He had heard that most kids his age didn't have lockers yet, but he had also heard Gotham Academy wasn't a traditional school. Still, though, he hesitated before closing the locker. He wanted to show off his new backpack, not leave it hiding in his locker.

So, he took the backpack back out, slung it over his shoulder, and closed the locker door, skipping off toward his classroom. Besides, he realized he made the right choice once he had darted into the room and saw that all the other kids had their bags with them.

Dick looked around for an empty desk and ended up choosing one next to a redheaded girl who smiled kindly at him. He slid into the seat and set his backpack at his feet, turning and flashing his own smile at her.

She spoke first, though. "Hi, I'm Barbara. Dick Grayson, right?"

Dick's eyes widened in appreciation. "Yeah! How'd you know?"

Barbara lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she giggled slightly. "Everyone knows who you are, Dick. Ever since Bruce Wayne took you in a month ago, we've known."

"Oh." Dick blushed a bit. He should have known that, too. But his blush disappeared when he asked a bit smugly, "And that makes you Barbara Gordon, right?"

It was Barbara's turn to widen her eyes, but they quickly went back to normal size when she laughed. "I guess everyone knows I'm the Commissioner's daughter, too, huh?"

Dick laughed as well. "Yeah."

Barbara's eyes flicked down to his backpack. "I like your bag."

"Thanks!" Dick glanced at her own backpack. "And I like yours."

"This old thing?" she asked, picking up her purple and black backpack. The material at the edges was starting to fray.

He nodded. "Just because it's old doesn't mean it's bad. I have a stuffed elephant named Peanut who I've had since I was five. He's super old, but he's still good."

Barbara smiled, looking reassured by this information. While most kids probably would have made fun of Dick having a stuffed animal, she didn't seem to find it funny at all. "Really?" she asked, glancing down at her backpack again. "Maybe my bag isn't so bad, then."

"Okay, class!" The young teacher clapped her hands as she strode into the room, sending the students who hadn't sat down yet scurrying to their seats. "May I have your attention, please? It's time for role call. And it's the first day, so I certainly hope everyone is here."

Some of the students laughed, and a boy that was tall enough to belong in high school spoke up. "But the people who aren't here would have no way of feeling guilty hearing you say that."

The teacher shot a look his way. "Yes, thank you, Raymond. I see you're still in my class for the second year in a row?"

Almost all of the students laughed this time as Raymond let out an indignant, "Ms. Frasier!"

Eleanor Frasier arched a delicate caramel-colored eyebrow at him, her hazel eyes holding a hint of humor. "You can't make fun of me and not expect me to tease you back, Mr. Trainor."

Raymond just huffed at that and crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair.

"Right, then." Ms. Frasier turned her gaze to the clipboard in her hands. She began calling out names, but hesitated when she came to a certain one, looking back over the class. "We have a new student this year."

The class leaned forward curiously. New students weren't a regular occurrence at Gotham Academy.

"Everyone, please welcome Richard Grayson."

Dick, not unaccustomed to attention, had no trouble smiling and waving as all eyes turned to him. "Hi, everyone!"

To his surprise, however, he received mixed signals from the others in the room. Only a couple of kids smiled at him. All the others either frowned darkly or skeptically. Dick found some of his confidence disappearing because of that. He hadn't expected to get glared at.

Fortunately, Ms. Frasier smiled at him warmly. "Welcome to my class, Mr. Grayson."

Dick managed to smile back, but his bright blue eyes were a bit duller, closer to a gray. "Thank you, Ms. Frasier."

"Now, I think we should jump right into our curriculum. If everyone would pull out their math books and turn to page three..."

Throughout the first few hours, Dick couldn't help himself. He raised his hand whenever questions were asked, and was called on pretty often. He answered all of Ms. Frasier's math, history, and English questions. Although, he occasionally got the English ones wrong. He was still learning about the English language, after all. He wasn't entirely sure how certain sentences should be constructed. Mostly, he had trouble with the prefix 'dis.'

But even when he got things wrong, the rest of the class still rolled their eyes and glared at him. They were already starting to see him as the teacher's pet. He could tell because he heard a few kids whispering those words. Eventually, he got tired of it and didn't raise his hand to answer Ms. Frasier's next math question.

"Mr. Grayson?" she asked, shocked at the lack of Dick's hand in the air. "No one else seems to know the answer. Are you sure you don't know it, either?"

Dick glanced at the chalkboard, and then took in the sight of the other students' glares before lowering his gaze to his desktop and shaking his head. Before Ms. Frasier could question him further, the bell rang.

"That's lunch," she said, moving to clean the chalkboard. "I expect you all to be back here in an hour. Try to be on time."

"Are people not usually on time after lunch?" Dick asked Barbara as the two got out of their seats and picked up their backpacks.

"She was mostly talking to Raymond Trainor," Barbara answered, falling into step with Dick as they exited the classroom. "He misbehaves. A lot."

"Yeah, I thought so," Dick muttered, staring at his feet as he walked so that he wouldn't have to see the looks of disgust on his classmates' faces.

Barbara noticed, and she elbowed him gently. "Ignore them. They're just jealous that you're smarter than they are."

Dick looked up at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "You think?"

"I know," she corrected with a firm nod. "Listen, my locker's on the other side of school, but I'll meet you in the cafeteria, okay? I'll save you a seat."

He perked up a bit at Barbara's reassuring words and smile, managing a slight smile of his own. "Okay."

She waved to him and started down the hall in the opposite direction, leaving Dick to walk to his own locker alone. It didn't take him long to hang his backpack up after pocketing some lunch money. He then began the walk toward the cafeteria, dodging taller students who thought they owned the hallway as he went. He doubted those taller students even saw him. For the first time, he was starting to wish he was bigger.

"Hey, Grayson!"

Dick cringed at the challenging tone in the voice as he turned to face Raymond. "Hey, Ray," he said, unable to keep himself from smiling a bit at the unintended rhyme.

But Raymond just sneered. "Was that supposed to be clever?"

"N-No."

"No, what?"

Dick bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He'd been bullied before, and he doubted that a person could ever get used to it. He was half expecting Raymond to reel back and punch him. After all, that's what everyone did at the...no. He told himself he wouldn't think about the place he had stayed before coming to live with Bruce. He had just hoped that school would be different. Apparently, he was wrong.

Noticing that the older boy was waiting impatiently for a response, Dick stammered, "N-No, sir?"

Raymond's eyes narrowed. "You sound uncertain."

"No, sir."

"That's better. Now, we need to talk about what you did in class."

"I...I didn't do anything wrong?"

Raymond sighed and shook his head. "There you go not sounding sure of yourself again."

Dick squirmed underneath his harsh stare. "I answered almost all the questions. What's wrong with that?"

"You make yourself look better than the rest of us. But the truth is, you're not." Raymond leaned closer, his breath warm on Dick's face, causing Dick to shrink away, pressing his back against a set of lockers. "The truth is, you're nothing but an orphan. A circus freak."

Dick's eyes shimmered with unshed tears yet again, but he swallowed back the lump in his throat. He couldn't cry in front of this bully. That would only encourage him. "I'm not...I'm not a freak."

"Aren't you? You're way too smart for a seven-year-old, and I bet you can bend your body in unnatural ways."

Unable to help himself, Dick blurted. "I'm eight."

Raymond's eyes narrowed into menacing, dark brown slits. "Correct me again, and we'll see just how many ways your body can bend, charity case."

Dick flinched at the name. That was what all of Bruce's rich friends called him behind his guardian's back.

"Now, I'm going to give you a free pass because it's only the first day of school. I'm nice like that." Raymond smirked. "But tick me off again, and I swear, I will make your life at school a living hell."

Mustering up what little courage he had left, Dick stammered, "Th-That isn't a very nice...word."

Raymond's eyes darkened to angry black pools as he lifted a hand. "Okay, forget the pass, brat. When I'm finished with you, you won't be able to tell which way is up."

"Hey!"

Dick cracked open one of the eyes he had squeezed shut, relief flowing through him when he saw Barbara marching toward them. She didn't look happy in the least.

"Get away from him, Trainor," she snapped, stepping in between the two boys to shield Dick with her body. "Unless you want to get suspended on the first day, that is. Didn't your parents threaten to take away your Game Boy if you got in trouble at school again?"

Raymond lowered his hand, clenching it into a fist and shoving it into one of his pockets. "You got lucky this time, freak. The Comish's daughter isn't always going to be around to protect you. And when that day comes, you can count on me being there."

Barbara continued to glare daggers at Raymond as he sauntered away before turning to Dick with wide, concerned eyes. "I started getting worried when you didn't show in the cafeteria."

Dick continued to lean against the lockers, hugging his stomach as it twisted and turned, pushing the tears back with all of his mental effort. "Thanks," he said shortly, forcing a smile when Barbara's concern didn't disappear.

"Come on," she said, pulling gently on his arm. "Let's go get something to eat."

Dick followed wordlessly, doubting he would feel like eating much of anything. He had skipped breakfast that morning due to how excited he was, and his stomach groaned, pleading for food. But he didn't feed it when he and Barbara arrived at the cafeteria. He merely pushed his food around on the plate, nibbling a bit here and there. It wasn't near enough to satisfy his hunger.

Barbara encouraged him to eat every few minutes, but she eventually gave up after he shook his head for the dozenth time. In fact, Dick didn't speak much for the rest of the day. For someone who had been so excited for school to start, he sure was at the opposite end of the spectrum.

He avoided everyone for the rest of the day, and even Ms. Frasier gave up on encouraging him to answer questions. Once school was over, he stood outside the front gates, hands in the pockets of his blazers. At least he had Bruce coming to give him a ride home to cheer him up.

Only, after ten minutes of waiting, there was no sign of his guardian. Barbara approached him from behind, coming up beside him and resting a hand on his arm.

"Are you sure you don't want my dad to give you a ride home?" she asked, that concerned look in her eyes returning. "I promise he won't mind."

Dick shook his head, speaking the first words he had in hours. "No. Bruce should be here any minute now."

Barbara shot him a doubtful glance, but she stopped pushing him. "Okay. See you tomorrow," she said with a wave before jogging over to her dad's waiting car. She had mentioned that her dad was a busy man, but he always made time to pick her up from school.

After ten more minutes of waiting, Dick found himself wishing Bruce was like Commissioner Gordon, because his guardian still hadn't showed up. Dick's shoulders slumped, whatever residual shred of happiness he had disappearing.

He glanced at his watch a while later and found that Bruce should have picked him up an hour ago. It was 4:30. If he left now, he could be at the Manor within the next half hour or so. It was a long walk, but he didn't want to stand here waiting anymore.

So, with a sigh much too weary for a boy of eight years, Dick started the long trek home.

About fifteen minutes into his walk, the sky opened and it started raining. The cold water droplets seeped through Dick's clothes, causing him to shiver. If he had to bet, he would say that his homework was getting soggy, too. Hot tears that contrasted the cold on his face pricked behind his eyes, but he blinked the saltwater away. He hadn't cried yet, and he wasn't going to cry now.

When he finally made it back to Wayne Manor, it was 5:30. He had walked slower because of the rain. He darted into the house, shivering from head to toe, his hair and clothes dripping water.

"Master Richard!" Alfred greeted him, an apron tied around his waist. His eyes were filled with concern, much like Barbara's had been. "Good heavens, you're soaked to the bone! Come, let's get you into some dry clothes."

A while later, Dick was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, both of which were too big for him. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in a while, being plagued by nightmares. His backpack, textbooks, and homework were all hung up to dry, and he sat at the kitchen counter, huddled on a stool, a towel wrapped around his shuddering shoulders.

"Here you are," Alfred said, setting a bowl of soup in front of Dick. "Your favorite, as I recall."

But Dick just stared unblinking at the steam rising from the bowl, not even bothering to pick up the spoon. "Where's Bruce?" he asked, his voice shaky due to his chattering teeth.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Master Richard. I thought he was picking you up from school," Alfred answered, his eyes and tone disapproving of his primary master. "But you should eat before your soup gets cold. It should warm you up as well."

Under Alfred's watchful eyes, Dick managed to eat a few bites of his soup, and it really did help to warm his freezing body. He didn't finish the meal, but he found himself eating a good half of the bowl. It really was his favorite dish.

Glancing at the clock on the microwave, Dick saw that it was nearing 7:00, and Bruce still wasn't home. "Can I be excused?" he asked, pushing his half eaten bowl of soup away from him.

"But I made chocolate chip cookies," Alfred said with a worried frown. "They're fresh out of the oven, just the way you like them."

"I'm not hungry anymore," Dick whispered, slipping off of his stool, landing on the tile with barely a sound. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Already?" the butler asked, blinking once in surprise. "But it's only seven o'clock."

"Yeah, but I'm tired."

Alfred pursed his lips for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Would you like me to inform you when Master Bruce comes home?"

Dick just shook his head and trudged out of the room, ignoring the feeling of Alfred's gaze on his retreating back. When he made it to his room, he didn't bother changing into his pajamas. He just climbed into bed and curled up underneath three layers of blankets, having kept the towel that was around his shoulders.

Now that he was alone and safe in his room, the tears finally came. They silently spilled out of his eyes and onto the pillows, yet through it all, he never made a sound. Not even a muffled sob.

Bruce stumbled out of the Batmobile and into the Batcave on exhausted feet, pushing back his cowl and collapsing into the Batcomputer's chair with a weary sigh. It had been a long day. He had started out that morning being called into an emergency at work. Add that to being summoned by the Justice League in the afternoon to attend to another emergency that took up the rest of the day, and you got a tired Bruce Wayne and a tired Batman.

"Alfred," he greeted his butler as the older man entered the Batcave. "It's been a long day. I don't suppose you would mind whipping me up some of that soothing herbal tea?"

"Actually, sir, I do mind."

Bruce looked up in surprise at Alfred's sharp tone. His butler was usually calm, rarely raising his voice. "Excuse me?"

"You may be an excellent Batman, but you are a sorry excuse for a guardian, Master Bruce."

His exhausted mind still couldn't quite comprehend what Alfred was talking about. "Pardon?"

"That boy needs a father figure," Alfred went on, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "And today, all he wanted was for you to either take him to school, or pick him up at the end of the day. Was that too much to ask?"

Bruce's eyes widened as he suddenly realized what Alfred was implying, and what he had forgotten. "Dick," he said, running a hand over his face in shame. "I said I would drive him home, didn't I?"

"Yes. You did." Alfred's voice was becoming even sharper, if that was possible. "The least you could have done was call me to say that you needed me to pick up Master Richard. But you let me innocently believe that you had it covered."

"Wait." Bruce blinked once, confusion drawing his eyebrows together in a confused frown. "You're saying you didn't go get him? How did he get home?"

"He walked, sir," Alfred stated, his frown deepening. "He walked home in the pouring rain. I'll be surprised if he doesn't wake up tomorrow having caught his death of cold."

Bruce sighed again, more deeply this time. He got to his feet and removed his cape, planning on changing out of his Batman gear and heading upstairs. "I'll go talk to him."

"I would not advise that."

"Why not?"

"Oh, just bloody check the time, why don't you?"

Bruce obeyed, arching one eyebrow when he saw that it was after eleven. "He's asleep by now, I guess."

"Undoubtedly. He headed to bed shortly after seven."

"What?" Bruce turned slightly widened eyes to Alfred. "Why?"

"He claimed he was tired, and rightfully so. It took him at least an hour to walk home, half of which was in the rain. I suggest you spend tomorrow making it up to him," Alfred said, his suggestion sounding more like an order.

Bruce was about to agree when he remembered something and shook his head. "I can't. I'm taking him home to get ready to head to that charity ball in Central City soon after school."

Alfred sniffed, turning to leave. "Well, then. Make sure you apologize to the boy with the first chance you get. I had to watch him be crestfallen over your absence, sir. That boy needs Bruce Wayne, not Batman."

"I'm aware of that," Bruce said, his voice hardening slightly as Alfred reiterated what he already knew. "I'll make it up to him first thing after the ball tomorrow. I promise."

"I'm not the one you need to be making promises to, Master Bruce."

Bruce watched him go before sitting back in the chair, forgoing his decision to head back upstairs for now. He needed to think about what he could do to make Dick feel better. He would make it up to his ward with, like Alfred had said, the first chance he got.

This is going to be a two-parter! Can I get a whoop? Oh, maybe not.

Anyway, in my eyes, I see Bruce not being too great of a father, especially since he isn't a perfect one five years into Dick's future. That's why I see him forgetting Dick's first day of school as being perfectly reasonable. Just wanted to say that to make sure you don't all want to punch Bruce too hard. XD

Sorry for the cliffhanger, though. Stay asterous! *ninjas out*