A/N: This is for the Parkland students who were killed, and for the students who took the courage to stand up and refused to be silent.
One Too Many
'Another school shooting, when will it end? Is this the norm? I don't want it to be the norm," Tim thought as he let another candle. "When will it end?" he asked himself a second time. Tears tracked down his face as he lit yet another candle. This time, two of his friends were killed, shot several times in the back, trying to escape the gunman. He had been helping other students to escape through a window, while the shooter rampaged through his school. There was no opportunity for him to change into his uniform. By the time there was, the shooter turned his gun on himself.
'We can't let it end like this,' Tim cried. "No more! No more!' Tim raged in his mind. Candles weren't enough anymore. Why won't they listen?
Tim stalked out of the family chapel. It was time to take matters in his own hands. He was Red Robin, and even his hands were tied at times. As he rushed by Damian, he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along.
"Drake, what are you doing? Let go of my arm."
"I should have done this a long time, ago."
"Drake, I said, let go!" Damian twisted his body causing Tim to trip and fall. Damian landed on top of him.
"Explain yourself!"
Tim was momentarily shocked back to reality. "It's these school shootings. I've had enough of them."
Damian blinked for a moment, the scoffed. "What of it. Tragedy happens."
"This isn't the norm, Damian. This shouldn't be happening."
"It happens all over the world."
"You callous, son of a b– . . . "
"Master Timothy!" Alfred stated sharply, interrupting Tim's final word.
"Don't you care that kids our age are getting shot. Dying at the hands of someone who should not have a gun?" Tim protested.
"Of course I care, but there is nothing that can be done."
"Yes, there is," Tim countered. "We can take to the streets and protest."
"An what good will that do, we'll get arrested."
"Not if every student in every classroom of every school does it."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"You'll see."
Tim was true to his word. A month later, to the exact day, at precisely 10:00 am, every student in his school got up and walked out of their classrooms. Each held a candle. Some held signs. Even to Damian's bewilderment his class had done the same thing. He followed his fellow students out in the hall and out the door, realizing that it just wasn't his class, but his whole school. Not only did the students protest, some of the teachers did, too. It was a movement like no other.
That evening, Damian walked into the living room to see Tim, Jason, and Dick watching the news. A familiar voice could be heard coming from the screen.
"If we're going to end the school shootings, we can't do that by sitting on our hands and say it's not my problem or it only happens to others. It's happening every day across this globe. We're tomorrow's leaders, voters. We can no longer sit and watch our fellow students get gunned down."
"What do you plan to do?" the reporter asked.
"This will be the first in a series of walk-outs," Tim said to the reporter. "For every student who was shot and died, we have a responsibility to not only honor their memory, we have an obligation to make sure someone listens and takes us seriously. No more. This is not about taking away the guns. A police officer needs his gun to protect the public. A soldier needs his rifle to go to war to protect this country. We should not have to arm our teachers to protect the students. It will only make things worse. Next time teachers could get killed trying to protect their students. This is about the safety of the students, of us all. Make a choice people, these are our lives. And we deserve to grow up safe and to go to school without fear. One more death is one too many. Do what's right for the safety of our future children."
Damian clapped Tim on the back. "Well spoken, Drake."
That was the best praise Tim ever received.
"But if you ever grab my arm again, I'll break your fingers."
So, much for coming together.
End.