Dick Grayson

Wayne Manor

Wednesday, August 1st, 2012

"Dad's home!" Tim calls, peeling his face away from my bedroom window. He races out the door with a cheer and the sound of his feet pounding against the carpet. Cassie latches onto Jason's shoulders, pulling herself into a piggyback. I crouch so Stephanie can climb onto my back and we run after Tim. In the foyer, the door opens and closes and Bruce's voice fills the air. As we charge down the main staircase, Bruce tells Alfred that the flight was good and the meeting was productive.

"Daddy!" Cassie shrieks happily. Bruce drops his briefcase with a slight thud, holding out his arms as Tim slams into him and envelops him in a bear hug. Jason and I are right behind him. Stephanie wriggles off my back so that she can tackle Bruce too. His arms wrap around all of us and I lean into the group hug. He smells like a limousine and the expensive cologne he wears for business trips. I'm surrounded by my family on all sides and it's a tangle of arms and bodies and Tim keeps stepping on my foot and Stephanie keeps kicking my knees while she tries to jump high enough to wrap her arms around Bruce's shoulders.

"Welcome home, sir," Alfred grins in his most butler-y voice.

"How was Metropolis?" I say when we break apart.

"Did you see Uncle Clark?" Stephanie asks.

"What'd you bring me?" Jason demands.

"Daddy!" Cassie pulls at his arms, "I maked dis!"

Bruce picks the five-year-old up in his arms while she pulls a messily folded piece of paper from her sweater pocket with concentrated effort and holds it out to him proudly.

"You made this? It's beautiful!" Bruce gushes, "We'll have to get you enrolled in art school soon!"

"What took you so long?" I ask after he finished praising Cassie's art, "You were in Litchfield with us yesterday. Why are you just getting home now?"

"I had another business meeting in Metropolis. LexCorp is still trying to push a co-op development that somehow slipped through about fifty layers of red tape, but we have it handled now," he responds, "And I had to talk to Clark."

"About Superboy," It's not a question. Bruce nods.

"Who's Superboy?" Tim asks. I start to answer, but it's probably better to let Bruce explain. I don't want to confuse Tim too much.

"Superboy is Superman's clone."

"Like in Star Wars?"

"No, those are clone troopers," I correct him.

"Not to mention the fact that Star Wars is fictional," Bruce adds smugly.

"Is it really?" I say, raising my eyebrow pointedly, "Uncle Hal said that the Jedi have been having turf disputes with the Lantern Corps lately."

"You shouldn't believe everything Hal says. He's just messing with you."

"But I asked Guy Gardener and he said that-"

"When were you talking to Guy Gardener?" Bruce asks, bemused.

"He came by the cave accidentally. M'gann gave him some cookies for the road. Wally freaked out a little because he still owes Guy twenty bucks from that poker night on top of Star Labs last year. So he told me to distract him and so I remembered what Uncle Hal said and I wanted to know and Guy said that there really are Jedi, but they're in a totally different quadrant of space and that George Lucas' dad had been a Green Lantern and that's how he knew about them. By the way, don't tell Barry about the poker night because he promised Wally's mom that he wouldn't let him gamble."

"Huh," his voice makes it clear that he will be following up with an investigation of his own about the Jedi thing. Nerd.

"Guys! Who's Superboy?!" Tim whines, upset at being ignored, "Why haven't I met him before?"

"We just rescued him from Cadmus a few weeks ago," I tell him, "He's on my team, but not a lot of people know he exists."

"Why did he have to be rescued?"

"Cadmus is a laboratory that does a lot of bad experiments. The Justice League didn't find out about it until Robin, Kid Flash and Aqualad investigated a fire there."

"You rescued him?"

I nod.

"Well, he kind of rescued us too."

"Where does he live? Does he live with Uncle Clark?"

"No. He lives at Mount Justice with Miss Martian. She's another one of my teammates."

"Why not?"

"Uncle Clark is having a hard time accepting his new responsibilities," Bruce answers.

"Why? Jango Fett loved Boba, and he was his clone. Why doesn't Uncle Clark love Superboy?"

"It's complicated. He didn't know about him before. It's hard for him to deal with."

"Oh," Tim is quiet for a second, "Can Superboy come visit?"

"We'll see."

Tim follows Bruce as he goes to his study, peppering him with questions as they go. Cassie runs back to the living room and plops herself down on the carpet where she's assembled a mountain of crayons and markers for her art. Jason pulls his DS out of his jacket pocket and sits against the wall. My stomach rumbles so I head to the kitchen. I pour a bowl of cereal, sit at the table and turn on the news. Wally's aunt Iris is on channel seven and it's kind of fun seeing people I know on tv. But it can be weird too, like when the Wayne Foundation makes a huge donation and Bruce is all over the news that cycle or one of my teachers shows an interview with the Justice League.

Last year, my history teacher showed us a documentary about Wonder Woman that made her look like a super-serious goddess of war and diplomacy and all of the confessionals and expert interviews talked about the ancient Greeks and Wonder Woman as a figure straight out of legends. I mean, it's kind of true, but I've also seen Aunt Diana frantically trying to calm Cassie down after my little sister ate one of her homemade brownies and started crying at how bad they were. It's hard to see someone in the same light after that.

But it was a cool documentary and Robin was in one of the clips they had of the Justice League defending the Capitol building from Gorilla Grodd's army three years ago. That was pretty awesome. I'll never get tired of seeing myself on tv.

"I don't wanna go back to school," Stephanie whines, pulling me out of remembering my glory days, "Why can't it just be summer foreverrrrr?"

"As much I sympathize with your plight, young Mistress, an education is a necessity."

"But Alfredddddd…"

"Non-negotiable, I'm afraid. However, I'm sure I could be persuaded to prepare a batch of raspberry-chocolate chip cookies if you were able to produce your completed report on the Series' of Unfortunate Events you were to have read."

Stephanie pouts, "But Jason hasn't finished his summer work either."

"Leave me out of this, Steph!" Jason's shout echoes from the living room. Alfred always gets like this right before school starts, because he knows Bruce will assume that we've been keeping to a responsible schedule with summer homework and by the time it occurs to Bruce to make sure that we've started it, it's the day before. I finished most of my stuff over the last couple weeks, and now I just have five more pages out of my math packet which I saved for last because calculus is super easy. Jason always manages to get his stuff done, so Alfred knows he's not the one to watch out for. Stephanie and Tim have about two book reports and a math packet between them. You'd think that wouldn't be too bad.

You'd be wrong.

It takes every bit of persuasion and influence and putting-his-foot-down-ness that Alfred has, and even that isn't enough to get the two of them to get started on their work. Stephanie and Alfred have been playing this game for the whole week, where the conversation starts off subtle and the pressure builds until Alfred makes a bribe and Stephanie holds up her end of the bargain… until he turns around. Then they start up all over again.

Stephanie is finally out of time, and she's been moping around all day. Watching her, you'd think her pet leopard gecko died. I'm halfway through my math packet by the time she manages to open her computer and start typing. But if Alfred thinks Stephanie is bad… she's got nothing on Tim. His strategy is a little different. While Stephanie goes with the obvious whining and stalling, Tim pretends to be working. He's been on line three of his book report for the last two months.

It's an amazing act. He's got the routine down perfectly… better than any Shakespearean actor could ever hope to match. I don't know how he did it, but he figured out exactly what it looks like when he's actually trying to do homework or focusing on something. He sits down in front of the computer and fakes it. I don't know how he does it. Even when I know for a fact he's just pressing random keys and occasionally deleting everything, if I can't see his screen I'd never know. He's got his usual look of concentration on his face, and he breaks up the slow typing by reading a page or two of "Holes," the whole thing is impressive and hilarious, mainly because he's wasted so much time pretending to work on it when he could have just written the one-page summary and been done.

As much as I kind of want to see Alfred's face when he realizes Tim's hoax, I really don't want to leave the opening for the "You knew what he was up to and didn't say anything so no cookies for a week" lecture. Jason can fill me in later. For now, I carry my dishes to the sink and kick up into a handstand. Upside down, I walk on my hands down the hall and into Bruce's study, where the door is propped open. He's working on a letter for the Wayne Tech shareholders while he scans through piles of reports and updates.

"How's your homework coming?" He asks without looking up.

"Almost done. I just have a few pages of my calc packet left, but it's really easy."

There's a pause, where the only sound in the study is from Bruce's keyboard. The portrait of Thomas and Martha hanging over the fireplace looks weird from upside down, but I don't think anyone will find it funny if I point out how weird her nose looks flipped 180 degrees.

"Dick, are you sure you want to take AB calculus? I really think BC would be a better fit for your ability."

"No, I'm good. I don't really want to mess up my schedule trying to switch it."

Not after the amount of effort it took to convince Slade to butt out of it. If I hadn't agreed to take the lower-level math and bio classes, he was going to make my schedule for me. So, the math class stays.

"Are you doing science club again this year?" Bruce asks.

What? I never did a science club.

OH.

I almost drop myself onto my head. I did the Gotham Primary science club for two weeks last year, and after that it was my cover for training with Slade. I'd do homework after school with Babs and then walk to the community center where Slade would have a car waiting. After training, he'd drive me back to school with plenty of time for Alfred to pick me up.

"I don't think so. It wasn't that much fun," I say. Slade hasn't said anything about it anyways.

"How's your paperwork coming?" I change the subject.

"Not almost done," Bruce answers, "Has Alfred managed to bribe Stephanie yet?"

I shift back my weight, picking one hand off the ground so all my weight is on my left hand. The carpet feels prickly on my palm so I switch hands.

"Maybe? She's got her computer open."

"Doesn't mean anything. Just look at Tim."

I squeeze my abs and let my legs fall forwards. My heels land on the floor and the momentum carries me to my feet.

"You knew?!"

"Of course," Bruce almost looks offended that I'd doubted him. Almost. He more looks amused, "He always fidgets when he's thinking. He's too focused on his act to move around."

"Wait, but… you always gave me such a hard time about finishing my homework and you haven't said anything to him?!"

Bruce raises an eyebrow.

"How's that math packet coming, again?"

"Bruce! You made me finish all my homework in July! And then you gave me that binder of geography worksheets! I still know more about the topology of Finland than everyone in my entire school!"

"You're welcome," Bruce answers seriously. The corner of his mouth ticks up, "I admit that was a bit… unnecessary given that you were ten."

"I told you that when you gave it to me!"

"Okay, yes, Dick I'm sorry about that. But I have had some time to realize that schoolwork is not necessarily the most important part of summer break and frankly, Tim is learning more with his scheme than through a single book report."

"What do you mean?"

"The effort involved in a long-term act of subterfuge? He's mapped out times and patterns for each of his habits according to who's in the room with him. He made a spreadsheet to figure out how long Alfred would stay and watch him work and at what intervals he comes back in to check. He's even been researching behaviors of productive people and child psychology of different age groups."

"Wait. That parenting magazine that Alfred found last week…"

"Tim ordered it off my card. He asked me if he could get it for a friend's mom who's a psychiatrist. I think he even went as far as to ask her if she'd like a subscription. It's impossible not to see that he's been thorough."

Oh man, Timmy.

"So, you're telling me you really don't care?"

"Of course, I'm not mad," the smile drops off his face and it's replaced by the sternest Batglare I've ever seen, "I'm disappointed."

"You are an evil man," I shake my head, "Do we still have time for a few sparring rounds before dinner?"

"As tempting as bi-weekly reports are, I think we can fit that in."

Gotham Academy

Monday, August 20th, 2012

"We'll laugh about this someday."

The camera flashes before Artemis has a chance to process anything, and then I'm gone.

"Dick? What was that?"

I whirl around, my smile splitting across my face.

"Babs!"

There's a blur of red hair and a beaming smile, and then we're tackling each other.

"How was Europe?!" I ask when we separate from the hug.

She's bouncing on her feet as she says, "It was great! The exhibitions were amazing and we got to train at the gym Béla Károlyi worked at! It was so awesome! You would have loved it!"

"That sounds amazing!"

"And, while I was there I got my Silivas!"

"That's the double front twisting double back twist thing, right?"

"Yeah!"

"That's incredible! You're going to qualify for sure!"

Barbara is an elite gymnast. Last season she was number nine in the country and qualified for a full-summer training program abroad. Olympic trials are in two years and there's no one who deserves it more.

"It's still a long time away," she blushes.

"Just think about how exciting it is for me! I'm best friends with a future Olympian!"

"Dick!" she tries to hit me on the arm, but I move in and put my arm around her shoulder instead. Together, we walk into a new school year at Gotham Academy. We're both ninth graders, although Babs is a year older than me since I skipped a grade.

"I can't believe we got so lucky with our classes!" she unfolds her schedule from her jacket pocket.

"Crazy, right? Almost like this system got hacked…"

"You didn't!" Babs hisses, looking delighted at the thought.

"Once you got your schedule, I just flagged myself as priority for your sections. It wasn't even hacking, really. But not for bio."

"You're not in AP?"

I shake my head.

"Nah. Just honors. But all the other classes are the same."

Babs leans in to hug me again, "You're the best! This year is going to be great!"

The bell rings, signaling five minutes to class.

"Do you know where English is?" I ask her.

"Second floor, first room after the staircase. I hear Mrs. McKendrick is really nice," she answers.

"As long as we don't have to read too much Shakespeare."

"Oh please. You love anyone who invents that many words. How's B?"

I smirk. We thought we were so clever with that codename, but Babs can't exactly ask me how Batman is doing, "He's good. Still a little psycho around the edges, but I think he's getting better. Speaking of which, Robin was inducted into the Justice League."

Babs stops walking. A group of juniors almost bumps into her, but they weave around quickly, "Seriously? When?! Why didn't I know about this?"

"In July. It's… not as cool as it sounds," I take a breath and look around, trying to see if anyone is listening in, "We weren't really accepted into the League, and it might have gotten a little messy, but we got our own team. It's covert, so B tried to keep it quiet. We're not good at the covert part though."

"Still cool," Babs says brightly, "Wait, we?"

"Yeah. Kid Flash, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Artemis."

"Whoa! Totally don't know who the last three are. What about Speedy?"

I frown.

"He quit."

"What?!"

"Shh!"

"Sorry! What?" Babs whispers.

"He got angry that the League lied to us, and he doesn't want to come back."

"Are… are you okay with that?"

"No," I huff, "I mean, I get that it's his life, but this is bigger than him. At least, it's supposed to be. And he just left like none of the stuff he's done mattered."

"I'm sorry, Dick."

"It's okay, I'm just still trying to wrap my head around it."

"Yeah… hey have you seen the gym yet?" Babs asks suddenly.

"No… why?"

"It's totally trashed! During the summer, there was some kind of attack and the gym and some of the lockers and classes got smashed up. They're working on renovations but it's still a mess,"

I grin.

"You want the play by play?" I ask her.

"No way!" Babs grins, "That was you?"

"Junior Justice League, at your service," I bow dramatically.

"Who was it?"

"Ivo. He built this AMAZO robot that could learn and copy its opponents. It took the League four hours to beat it!" my smile widens, "It took us like fifteen minutes."

"It was probably reset to factory settings," Babs teases.

"Nope. Full powers of the Justice League."

"So, what happened?"

"We were escorting the trucks carrying the disassembled robot to STAR labs. Miss Martian, KF and Aqualad took one and Superboy and Robin had the other. Ivo sent his MONQIs to hijack the trucks and reassemble AMAZO. Superboy went berserk, tracked the train, and everyone regrouped at Gotham Academy to fight him. Long story short, we played keep away with Ivo and Artemis saved our butts."

"Artemis… Artemis…. Uh… wait, Artemis 'we'll laugh about me coming up behind you and randomly taking a picture someday' Artemis?"

"Yeah! We were a little iffy at first, but she's cool and it's nice to have an archer on the team."

"Ohhhh," Babs says, eyes wide as she connects the dots, "Dick, you shouldn't scare people on their first day at school. Even if they're your teammate. Especially if they're… trained assassins?"

"You're no fun."

"You wound me! Anyways, the gym is trashed so we'll be having it outside for a while."

"They didn't cancel it? Damn. Maybe I should ask Superboy to smash the rest of it."

"Do it!" Babs laughs. She holds the door to the stairwell open and gestures me through.

"What did they tell the rest of the school?" I ask as we start climbing stairs. Babs grins from ear to ear.

"Malfunctioning construction equipment."

"Seriously?"

"Right?!" Babs agrees gleefully, "Everyone knows it's a big fat lie, but Dad says the real reason is for the insurance company… construction damage looks way better for insurance premiums than superhero battles."

I shake my head in disbelief.

"La verità è anzi più strana della finzione," I mutter.

"What does that mean?"

"The truth is stranger than fiction."

"Says the guy who hangs out with aliens and magicians," Babs laughs, "I always forget how many languages you speak."

"No sé a qué te refieres," I shake my head sadly, "Tu oublies mon génie."

"I don't know what you said but, unde este toaleta?"

"They didn't teach you many phrases in Romania, did they?" I tease.

"Nope! But if someone needs to find the bathroom, I'm their girl."

The door to our classroom is open and Babs and I file in. About half the class is already sitting, looking at their phones or talking to each other.

"Hey, it's Josh!" Babs points, and sure enough Josh Pines is pointing at the two empty desks in the room in front of him. We walk over and Babs claims the desk on the left, leaving me right in front of Josh.

"Hey Dick! How was your summer?" Josh asks.

"It was great! How was yours?"

"Eh…" Josh starts, looking around awkwardly, "I mean I went to camp the whole summer, but my step-mom is on this whole health-food-vegan-organic warpath, so I haven't eaten anything that isn't leafy and green since I've been back."

Babs and I stare in horror.

"I'm so sorry," Babs says.

"Nah, don't be. Because you know what I've got?"

"A lower risk of heart disease from high cholesterol?" I grin, raising an eyebrow.

"Lunch money, and you better believe I'm going for the mozz sticks."

"Nice," Babs fist bumps him. Josh and Babs have been friends since third grade, when he got called a faggot at recess and Babs punched the bully so hard he blacked out. Josh and I have been friends since we got partnered on a Health class project last year. He's a great partner because he's smart, does his fair share of the work on time, and will provide a scathing commentary on the idiocies occurring in the surrounding room. Exactly what you want in a gym class group project partner.

"Oh, before I forget, you both should come to the information meeting after school."

"For your sister's community service thing?" Babs asks.

"She graduated last year, so I'm taking it over. You should both come. I've got… dun dun da da… pamphlets!"

"He's got pamphlets," I tell Babs.

"What choice do we have?" She nods seriously just as the bell rings and a tall woman wearing bright blue heels walks into the room.

"Good morning, everyone! It looks like everyone is here, so let's get started. I'm Mrs. McKendrick and we're going to have a lot of fun this semester."

"Golly gee, I can't wait!" Josh whispers to me at the same time Babs mutters, "She hit six squares on buzzword bingo."

This is going to be a good class.

Wayne Manor

"Josh wants me to join his community service group. It's designed to try to connect Gotham Academy students to families who live in the slums. It meets three times a week and they do a bunch of different projects around the city, like doing food and toy drives, and I think they even collaborate with some food banks. The next meeting is on Wednesday. Can I go?"

Bruce looks at Alfred, who nods.

"I don't see why not. But Dick, you're already so busy. Are you sure you want to do more stuff?"

I nod enthusiastically.

"Yeah! Josh says it's really fun and you get a bunch of community service hours for doing it."

And I really am excited for it. Josh's charity group is exactly what I want to be doing. Bruce has given me so much, and I want to use what I have to help other people who haven't been adopted by a billionaire. Too bad Slade wants me to use it as a cover, so I'll barely be able to actually go.

"If you're sure, then I'm all for it."

"Thanks Bruce! Thanks Alf!"

Once I'm out of the kitchen, I make a beeline to my room. I hate lying to Bruce! Aside from the fact that I feel horrible about it, they don't call him the world's greatest detective for nothing. I'm not a great liar. What am I going to do if he gets suspicious? Does he already suspect something? I rub my eyes and lie down on the bed. I have to relax. All this stuff with Slade, it's really not a big deal. It's just training.

My phone buzzes. I type in my passcode to check the text message.

"Can you do the community service group?"

I type, "He says okay but he's worried I'll be too busy."

"Will you be able to handle it?"

I scowl, "Yes."

"If you can't, I'll arrange something else."

"It's fine."

Slade doesn't answer after that, so I take a breath and delete all the messages. It's not the most secure way of getting rid of them, but it's just in case someone tries looking through my phone. It's not going to stand up to any real scrutiny, but Bruce doesn't go through my messages. He respects my privacy.

My stomach hurts.

I don't want Slade making my schedule. I get why he's worried about Bruce getting suspicious, but even if he's right, it's my life! I don't want him picking what classes I can take or what clubs I can do or what days I can train with my team! But if I tell him to butt out of it, I'm worried he'll think I'm not taking the training seriously. It's helping me so much and it's not that I don't want to do it, I just wish Slade would back off a little. I just wish there was some way to tell him that without freaking him out. I'm not going to tell Batman about him! I thought he knew that by now!

But whenever I try to ask if we can slow down or go back to the old training schedule, he thinks I'm threatening to rat him out! When we started, it was every three weeks and it made a lot of sense when he suggested switching to every other week. Once I could move past the basics, I needed to put more time in to keep improving. And once we started weapons training on top of hand-to-hand combat, there was a lot more stuff to work on, so I was okay to meet every week. But twice a week? That's so much!

Okay, sure, between the time I spend coding with Hardison and Slade teaching me about villains, we're losing combat practice. He doesn't get anything out of telling me about them; he's only doing it to help me. Maybe if we stop doing that, he'll be okay to keep it at one session a week? But I don't want to stop. It's already paid off and we've only been on two missions since then. I only thought to check the MONQIs for GPS because Slade taught me about Ivo. What if the next time the team is on a mission, I miss something huge because I wasn't prepared for the villain's tricks? I can't risk that.

I guess twice a week isn't that bad.

The community service group is a really good excuse. Besides, once a week I'll still get to hang out with Josh and work in the soup kitchen.

It'll be fun.

AN: Thanks for reading! This chapter is mostly cute and fun, but the groundwork is being laid for some things that might not be very good at all. Let me know if you're enjoying the story!

Italian: La verità è anzi più strana della finzione—The truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

Spanish: No sé a qué te refieres—I don't know what you're talking about.

French: Tu oublies mon génie —You forget my genius.

Romanian: Unde este toaleta—Where is the bathroom?