Authors Note: Yeah, I know it's been ages upon ages upon ages since I updated. Sorry about that. And personally, I think this chapter sucks. For this story I'm having MAJOR writer's block. It sucks. Yeah. Read on, if you dare. But first, a few shout outs:
Marvin-forever: Thank you. But you may be severely disappointed by this addition.
Teya Yashitoda: lol. That's an interesting pen name…mean anything?
EvilYellowCrayon: Thank you for your support. Considering how little I normally get for a story, it means a lot.
StarStar16: Kelly, STOP GIVING OUT THE STORY!claps hand over friends mouth
aubrey: I know. Raven is celebrating currently by having a wit dual with Tim.
Teen-Titan-Junkie: Keep on truckin' like a truckin' trucker truckin'! I know, good AU fics are hard to come by. The case remains true. Yet again, bad bad baddy bad Tiffany. I been a bad girl. I wrote bad chapter.
Enough of my mindless mutterings. On with the show…er, fic.
If it hadn't been for the security cameras, Tim could have believed it was a normal cafeteria. Of course, there were a lot of things in the reform school to remind you it wasn't a normal school, and a lot of those things weren't subtly. It was things like metal detectors at every entrance, cameras at every angle, security guards, and kids gaining reputations by how malicious their crimes had been.
All we're missing now are bars over the windows. Tim thought grimly as he picked through the spaghetti that looked less like an entrée and more like something someone threw up.
"You okay, man? You look like someone left something dead in your food." Cy smirked at the statement as if he didn't doubt his assessment to be true.
"No, actually, I was just thinking…"
"About breaking out?" Cy's voice was eager. At the words even Gar looked up from where he was glaring at his food.
"If I ever think about anything different in this place, remember to commit me. Now, listen—"
"You're at our table." A gruff voice sounded behind Tim. He turned to see a boy about the height of Cy with a muscular build and more in need of a shave than anyone Tim had ever seen, flanked by a girl with, surprisingly, fuchsia hair pulled into low pigtails, and the short, bald, rude kid from before.
"You're at our table." The tall, brutish boy repeated as he saw Tim's blank stare.
Tim crossed his arms as one eyebrow subtly lifted. "I'm sorry. I never saw your names on the reservation list. Cy?"
Cy swiped a notebook from a girl that was sitting near them, flipped it open, and scanned it with the false air of a restaurant host. "No. There's no reservation for Freak, Idiot, or—"
"Care to go on with that sentence?" The fuchsia haired girl asked in a lofty yet dangerous tone.
Cy smirked. "No, my point's pretty clear."
"Guess it's time to make mine." The muscular boy growled, grabbing Tim by the collar of his shirt and jerking back his fist. Before the blow could be delivered, Tim ducked and head butted him, getting him to let go. Both Cy and Tim got to their feet, prepared for the next move as the muscular boy looked ready to strike again. However, the girl with fuchsia hair held out her hand to stop him.
"Save it, Manfred. We'll finish this another time." Her eyes darted to a security camera. The other looked in that direction and nodded, and then the tree walked off.
Cy sat down again. "Well, that was pleasant. Aw, look at that." He poked his fork at his meal. "My food's gone cold."
Tim glared in the direction of the departing three. "Cowards. I could've taken them."
"Cool it, man. I have a feeling you'll get another chance. In the meantime, let's focus on something important, like the fact that I'm still hungry and can't get decent food."
Tim looked around the empty office passively, wondering when something would happen. Not long after his run in with the three in the cafeteria, he had been called—no, forced into the administrator's office.
Guess I get to meet Kori's dad now." He thought grimly, wondering what they could possibly want with him. Security detail didn't care that much about a cafeteria brawl, and Cy had been left behind, not to mention the three drones.
Tim turned as the door opened. A tall man with dark hair and an Armani suit entered, walking toward the desk and sitting down. Tim raised an eyebrow skeptically as the man surveyed him.
"Have a seat, Mr. Drake."
Tim's voice was cold. "I'd rather stay standing. Nice suit."
The man ignored his comment. "My name is Bruce Wayne."
His surprise went deeper at the name. "You're not an Anders?"
"I run the school, Mr. Drake, not Juvenile Hall. I am not John Anders." He shuffled some papers on his desk in a bored manner as Tim looked on in impatience. It was almost as if this man was trying his hardest to get on Tim's last nerves, just for the sake of getting a reaction out of him. Eventually, after what seemed like the end of time, the man looked up, folding his hands in front of him in a polite manner. "I suppose you're wondering why you're here?"
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Language, Mr. Drake." He began shuffling the papers again, speaking in a bored manner. "I received a phone call this morning from your father. Not long after, I received a similar call from the Gotham police. A decision was made."
"Get to the point."
"Patience." His gaze was steady, face blank, but you could tell he was amused. "Given you past records, your psychiatric report…both parties believe your rehabilitation would best be served in full time counseling."
Tim glared at him slightly. "Do you come with subtitles?"
"For the next six weeks, you will be staying at my home. It's already been court ordered."
"The hell I will." Tim turned on heel to exit the office, but the man's voice caused him to stop before leaving.
"You don't have much of a choice. We're both stuck in this experimental program, whether we like it or not."
And I really don't like it. Tim held back the comment as he exited the office.
It was one of the most ironic things Raven had ever seen, and she prized irony as her main form of amusement. Ten teenagers, all of whom were convicted for felonies, gathered in a room with a psychiatrist like a support group. Sure, there were guards and security cameras, but if she hadn't been a part of it, Raven would have laughed. Being in a room with a bunch of temperamental jerks and an absolute nuts that's profession was to help the mentally ill was not a situation to laugh at.
She jerked out of her thoughts as the ditzy psychiatrist turned to the boy with spiky black hair she had seen before.
"Now, Timothy—"
"Tim." He corrected in a short tone.
"Tim." She confirmed the name with a smile. "Now, just repeat the three phrases. I am, I want, I need."
He crossed his arms and glared lightly. "Okay. I am Tim Drake. I want you to shut up. I need some edible food."
Raven watched as Gar and the African boy dissolved into silent laughter. The psychiatrist seemed to notice. She swung around to Gar immediately, pouncing on him like he was prey.
"Gar, is there anything you'd like to say?"
"Yeah. That was hilarious." He started shaking again with laughter. A thin frown appeared on the psychiatrist's face.
"Perhaps you'd like to tell us how you feel about your crime? Any guilt?"
"Nope." He shook his head. "It was cruel how they were treating those animals!"
"Tell them about it, man. Keeping all those animals in cages." Cy said solemnly, shaking his head in mock horror.
"I would've made it out of the Zoo, too, if I hadn't fallen into the bear pit." He started laughing again, and Raven smiled, thinking of the blond boy trapped in an empty bear pit. Her small smile evaporated as the psychiatrist turned to her.
"Any thoughts, Raven?"
"You mean besides, 'This is stupid'?"
She saw Tim start grinning across the room. The psychiatrist didn't find it funny. A bell rang off in the distance before she could respond to Raven's remark. She stood with a sigh, and the security guards opened the doors.
"You're dismissed. Proceed straight to the bus. The guards will be watching our progress."
"She makes it sound like they've done anything but watch us today." Raven heard Gar whisper as everyone starting filing out. Raven was one of the last to leave, giving the guard an offhand glare before she left. She stopped when she saw Tim leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for here. She stopped to look at him skeptically, but he just looked back at her calmly with those cool gray eyes, a smirk on his face, as if something about her provoked him to stare.
"What, are you stalking me?"
"I see your wit isn't reserved for staff only." She noted he did not deny her accusation.
"You caught me on a good day. Free snide remarks for everyone."
"Lucky me." He smirked and fell into pace beside her as she started walking off. "So, what are going to do now that we're free from Nicholas Nickelby's prison?" As he mentioned the novel, she suppressed a smirk. She hadn't expected him to have read at all.
"We've got community service duty, remember?" What'd he think I was going to be doing? Taking a nice, relaxing dip in the hot-tub? Why was he following her? They had made it past the metal detectors and outside. Raven stopped abruptly as she noticed a limousine parked in front of the bus that went back to Juvenile Hall.
"What is that?" She caught a glimpse of his expression: like he had stepped in something.
"I think that's my ride." He started off toward it, but not before she could get in the last word.
"Lucky you."