Gotham Churchyard, 10:30pm
Dick hadn't realized how long he had been there, curled underneath the headstones of Jonathan and Mary Grayson. His legs felt numb, toes knocked severely unconcious by the winds ample uppercuts. He couldn't have been there for very long. Or at least it didn't feel very long to his standards. Night had always felt longer since.
He smelt the rain before it hit. A single drop plunged through the air. It traced his pale, red cheek, feeling warmth and life just before it met its end at his lips. That single drop had brought along an army so formidable, it blanketed the cemetery in the span of three seconds. Dick could hardly distinguish the churchyard gate and all its lurid glory.
The Gotham City Cemetery was different from most burial grounds. For one, the grass was not properly fed, and no one would take the time to do so much as mow, or water the poor thing for as long as Dick could remember. Dick wasn't even been sure if was grass, it could just be diguised weeds trying to be grass, and hoping no one could tell the difference. The Headstones lacked that feudal countenance, and leaned more towards secret garden. The vines that grew from the small weeds around the headstones, grew quite fond of the stone in general, and began living its lonely days clung to its loving inscriptions, making homes of all the headstones in the churchyard. Most of the memorial statues and Angel statuettes had lost their ams, noses and heads, giving a not a soul a hint of how they had once looked in their prime. Overall, the cemetery was unlit, ridiculously melodramatic and just downright apoctalyptic.
The taste of moist grass blades made the urge to sit up more apealing, but it seemed nothing could unhinge the raven haired boy from his mother and fathers side. It felt so right being by their graves, but so wrong realizing they had been dead for four years, and he was just laying amid the earth John and Mary were underneath. The whole funeral was just so vague, Dick had barely remember their pale, unfeeling faces in those small moments of last goodbyes in the church. He just remembered how much he wanted to deny it so badly, but had no intention of ruining the peace they were enjoying. He let it be. And over time, he came to terms with it.
He wanted to be with them again. Be the amazing Flying Graysons at Haley's circus once more.
A brilliant performer. He was one of those, once. A long time ago.
It was just then that he wished leaving his phone that morning would have been a good idea. A ringtone of Soprano played wonderfully on his blackberry. Without a seconds hesitation, he awnsered.
"Robin here. What's up?"
"Where have you been?" Wally asked.
"I'm," He paused suddenly. He looked around the cemetery, getting the faint feeling of being watched. Funny, considering there were people all around him. "I'm nowhere important."
"Oh, okay, then you can come over?" Wally asked. How blissfully ignorant of him. It was better that way, though.
"Yeah, sure. Where are you right now?"
"Mount Justice. I rented a horror movie. thought you might want to come see too."
"Well," He dragged the word on, just to hear Wally beg.
"Come on! It's new, and 3D! Everyone is so going to pee their pants when they see it."
"Sure. I could use a good dictraction right now."
And with that, he hung up. no need for a goodbye when a hello was soon to come. He picked himself off the ground, then turned to face the cold, unfeeling stone. Scribbled "John Grayson, loving father and friend" Alongside "Mary Grayson, loving wife and mother".
"That was Wally. It's been great guys." He said. The umbrella Dick had been lying underneath was now resting against his broadening shoulder, still doing it's best to keep him dry. Two identical umbrella's to his shaded the headstones of his parents. One for each. He paid for all. "You can keep the umbrellas. You know, until a homeless guy steals them. Again." He laughed. "I really miss you guys, you know." He traced the inscription of his mother's stone, almost as if he could recall the painful denial. A saddened look meeting his pale blue eyes in that fleeting instant. "Goodbye."
He walked slowly down the hill, weaving past tall grass and whipping cat tails. By the time he reached the dirt path, he was covered in mud and grass blades. He glanced over his shoulder for one last look of his parents resting place. "Bye!"" he waved, imagining his parents for second, waving back at him.
And with that last feeling of being watched wash over him and stay behind, he left the Gotham churchyard, not one more glance over his shoulder.
Mount Justice Headquarters, Rode Island, 11:23pm
Dick was sort of just standing there, staring at the entrance, debating whether or not to be even more fashionably late than he already was. Whatever that meant. It took him a while to get to the mountain, and he was wondering if everyone had just simply started the movie without him and gone to bed. It's not like he wouldn't mind or anything, he was just wondering.
To Dick's surprise, it had been raining in Happy Harbour, too. Infact, it was just like the rain in Gotham, dense with fog and hail. Maybe it followed him here.
Recognize-Robin, B01
"I'm here!" Dick shouted.
Nothing.
After marveling the cave's beautiful architecture for the fifth or so time, he decided to go in and see if everyone was still alive. Walls built upon walls, built upon moutain just towered in every direction around him. Corridors reaching into pure, unwavering darkness, and he suddenly felt the watching feeling arise and stab his esophagus.
One at the door, he discover the Kitchen was in ruins. It looked as if a cake man exploded; Icing blood and chocolate filling guts splattered all over the wall and counters. A Betty Crocker box hung from the ceiling to the cakey adhesive. Other than the cake man corpse, it was just Dick. Alone. Wondering if all that thinking outside was right, and all his teammates were in bed.
Dick quickly went to the closet in the hallway, grabbing Shinedex and Green Clean and plenty of rags. He returned to the mess, and wondered if maybe he should have grabbed towels instead.
after a good gruling hour, He cleaned most of the icing, dug up most of the cake with his fingernails with ease. He was amazed to find cake in places cake should never be. But he still endured and He finally finagled the impossible job. Now it was time to get to the rest on the ceiling. Going against what Alfred had told him not to do, he got up on the counters, opening a cabinet so he could grip the frame.
He quickly discovered the Filling was begining to prove itself difficult after it's third Green Clean spray. "Seriously, dude. Get. off. the. ceiling. OW!" Something had stabbed Dick in the wrist. He nearly fell, if it hadn't been for the open cabinet; he would have split his head on the fridge. "What was that?" He whispered aloud. His wrist was bleeding, and it stung like a deep paper cut.
Without hesitation, he impulsively licked the blood drip from his wrist, and began digging through the filling guts that had miraciously cut him. White edges became clear. He traced the piece and pulled it out in his palm, sticky cake batter clinging for dear life snapped back to the wall in defeat. One half was clear, but he knew exactly what he was looking at.
"Happy Birthday?"
"Robin!"
Dick gave an awkward scream. He slipped, tried to get his footing before he fell, but the shinedex and green clean proved too loyal in their squeaky clean garuntees. He was falling straight to certain pain.
"Ow!'' Dick rubbed his head. Thankfully, he managed to avoid splitting his head on the counter across from him. But not so much the tile floor.
"Omigosh, are you okay?" Megan ran over to give the flightless bird a hand up. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"That was hilarious!" Wally laughed, just entering after the painful event that had taken place.
Artemis came up from behind Wally clearly unamused. Eventually Kaldur'ahm came through the doorway, along with Conner, and the collection was complete. Artemis elbowed Wally in the gut, hard. The slighest hint of smile graced Kaldur's lips as Wally whined in pain.
Dick noticed the oddly blue and green colored cake, inside a plastic cover container with a red bow on top. Upon noticing, everyone shrugged in unison.
"We-we were, uh,"
"We got you a cake, dude." Wally interupted the stuttering Martian.
What happened next was the last thing Dick Expected. How did they know? Not that it mattered any that they did. He laughed feeling ready to just cry, not caring what they thought of him.
"Happy Birthday, Robin!" They all said in unison. Superboy popped some streamers, a base to Wally's plastic party kazoo. Kaldur pulled out a few sparklers from the plastic shopping bag, quickly lighting them with the lighter they had also purchased at the market.
"How did you guys know?" Dick asked, getting ready to just cry on the spot.
"Let's just say we coaxed a Bat to tell us." Wally said, walking over to help Kaldur light the candle sparklers for the cake.
"We've been preparing for some time. But as you can see, the first try was a bit of a...Mistake." Kaldur said, looking at the ceiling that Dick had mostly cleaned up.
"You know," Dick began. He glanced at the cake, finally realizing it was a soccer cake, and Megan was disposing of the decorative soccer balls and plastic goal secretly. "You guys are awesome."
Mount Justice, 1:14am
Dick opened his eyes very slowly. He was spread eagle on the floor in front of the sofa, halfway under the wooden coffee table. Wally's hand was placed face down on his stomach, his arm thrown over the side of the coach, along with all his other limbs. Superboy was sleeping beisde the dorky red-head, arms crossed, head back in dreamland. Kaldur'Ahm was sleeping on the floor beside Dick, face down, A hand clenched in front of his peaceful expression. Artemis had been nowhere. She had most likely left for home sometime after evryone had fallen asleep. The same went for Megan, who was more than likely asleep in bed, dreaming about Martha Stewart in all her baking glory.
The den was a wreck. The Soccer/birthday cake was mutilated on the coffee table, stabbed and half burned to death by forks and sparklers. The Tv was playing loops of the main menu, that Dick had missed entirely. He didn't even recall the opening credits. Or that Wally had even put the disc in the DVD player.
Streamers, plastic Kazoos and caffetti spread the room in colorful after party barf.
He got up, helped wally get on the couch, limbs and all, picked up the cake and went in to the unlit kitchen. a flip of the switch and the panel light flickered to fluorescent life. Most of the Betty Crocker chocolate filling stared back at him from the ceiling, a obvious deviant look to it. He was going to get a latter and kill that ugly mess, first thing in the morning.
Oh god, story cliches everywhere. I got the idea from when microwaving french sticks for well past its heating time on the box. My sister and I spent the rest of the evening fanning out the smoke on the front porch, hoping Snobrey's date kept going and Mom and dad didn't return til after we got the smell out of the house. I still smell it.
Please review, kitty cats and puppy dogs. I would really appreciate it. I really, really would. *w*