FudoTwin17: Yo, guys! My story, Past Horrors, has now come to a close, so now I'm writing the story that you guys have voted for. And, since I'm not feeling my best, I'm not doing that talky thingy at the beginning of this chapter. Thanks for everything, guys. Ah, I don't own YJ. XD
Chapter 1
His eyes opened in complete panic. He only felt comfort when he realized that he was in the manor and his shaking had finally stopped. By then he knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep. He took a deep breath, his eyes skimming his closet to dress since he didn't plan on going to school in his boxers and a tight undershirt.
Naturally it was hours before he would be going to school, but at least he had time for a long shower to rid his body of the sweet sweat that seemed to begin to stick to his skin disdainfully.
The shower didn't do much for his aching mind although it made him able to go to school clean, as all should do. He took a long breath. That didn't do much either.
But his day went as normal. He took time to check his homework, tucked it away, and then slipped off to school in the back of the limo that Alfred drove. Alfred used to be able to look at him in the mirror and be able to tell when something was bothering him. Of course, he learned how to block the pain so Alfred wouldn't worry. Did it help him? No. But at least Alfred didn't worry. That was enough.
As soon as he stepped out of the limo, he was greeted by his best friend. Barbara Gordon was the one person on the planet that he hadn't yet been able to hide his pain from. She could see things in his eyes. He knew she could tell something was off by the odd looks she would give him, but then she would shake it off and he would continue to laugh as if it were nothing.
In a way, that was his greatest mistake. Laughing it off only made things worse.
Denying pain an outlet could only hurt what was on the inside. He knew that perfectly.
So, when Barbara finally receded down the hall to her class, he sighed in relief. He smiled as he walked into class, pretending that the world didn't seem to tilt in front of him. He wrote carefully, trying to make sure that none of it looked shaky. Even though, he was still the first one finished with his homework in class.
When he stepped outside of the classroom after everyone else, he held his breath. It didn't matter if he kept his voice even or he stood tall. That was all he had to do.
"Hey, Grayson!" The boy flinched, his ebony hair falling in his eyes. Hearing his name even hurt today. He couldn't understand why, but he just felt like kneeling over.
"I'm talking to you!" The voice repeated. Dick Grayson never looked at the boy before he felt the other rather pudgy ginger grab a fist-full of hair and slam his head into the wall.
At first Dick felt pain, but he ignored it, instead keeping a death-grip on his books so he wouldn't drop them and grasp the boy's wrist instead. That could be saved for Robin.
Robin. That name didn't hurt. Not so bad, anyways. He would be Robin later. He just had to survive now. He took a deep breath, letting out a small cry as not to be mistaken for Robin. He had to protect his identity. That came first.
Why didn't the teachers notice? He never knew. But they didn't, and in the end, what else mattered? Wasn't it actions that spoke better than words? He shivered.
All this rushed through his mind in the time it took for his head to suddenly fill with pain. He gulped. "Bryan, wha-what do you want?"
Bryan laughed, his dark eyes showed only evil. "Give me your homework. With the game last night, I didn't have the time to finish mine."
"No." Dick stated simply. "Besides, th-the teacher would know anyway. They know you don't know any four syllabary wo-words." Despite the pain he managed to retort in a clear, although pained voice. He wasn't giving up his homework.
"I wasn't asking." He stated, yanking Dick's books away and plucking his report from inside a folder. Once he got what he wanted, he threw Dick's books back at him. He had no use for them. Besides, Dick needed them to write his next report, right?
Dick didn't care. Not even as the larger male left with his homework. It came with the territory. Dick understood that when he skipped two grades. Bigger guys, bigger problems, less able to defend himself. That was his job.
Besides, when the dolt wrote his name in the corner, he simply proved that he was cheating as Dick typed his name at the very end of the paper. The dope probably wouldn't even read the paper, just trusting that he was such a nerd that it would be just fine.
Dick staggered to the nearest bathroom, feeling a definite concussion. His thoughts became mingled, but he just focused on the wound. Once he disinfected it, he did his best to get rid of the blood. The only thing he couldn't do was wash it from his collar, but he just prayed that Barbara didn't notice it at lunch, the lunch he was missing to remove the blood. He sighed. He brushed his dark hair over the wound as it wasn't closed up enough to do anything else with. It was a good thing he had black hair.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the rest of the day. Of course, Dick missed lunch. After that, Barbara glared at Dick until he looked back at her, trying to smile, but probably ended up giving her something gloomy with his concussion. All he knew was that his head hurt and everything was starting to blur together.
And, after the school day was over, he breathed a sigh of relief. His head hurt. He needed Alfred. And Barbara talking to him wasn't much fun either.
But it was okay. He would keep going.
Alfred patched him up just fine. He also gave him good medicine and handed him his outfit. Dick didn't know why he needed his suit, but he was fine with that. He just figured he needed it once they got there for something.
And he was right.
Because as soon as he got there, breathing for a second and watching the walls spin when he stepped outside of the zeta tube. The moment he arrived, he realized that he was in huge trouble.
They had a mission.
FudoTwin17: Yeah, kinda short, but I liked it. And the whole not mentioning his name at the beginning is on purpose. Alright, I'm going. Bye.
