Sorry that it's been so long! Writer's block and all that junk has been jacking with my head. Anyway, I hope this chapter is worth the wait!

Chapter 1 [Part 1]

~4 months ago~

It was a simple Friday afternoon, only three days from the last week of school. At the moment it was 1:50, only 40 minutes until school let out for the weekend. The bleachers in the gym were packed on every row with un-uniformed children wearing jeans and t-shirts and shorts and high socks and such. Friday was the only day each week that the attendees of Gotham Academy didn't have to wear their uniforms, so as one would expect, every attendee loved Friday and it's lack of ties and jackets and skirts of the same formal navy blue or black.

The reason all of the grades were packed into the oversized gym was because today was a big assembly. A girl, Taylor Hartwig [1], sat in the middle in her wheelchair. Taylor was a very pretty woman at 15, with curly chestnut hair that fell graciously down her back in luscious curls and a bright pair of auburn eyes, accented with the right amount of make-up. She too wore jeans like most of the other kids and she wore a maroon shirt that said 'Think First' in white cursive letters. Her skin was the perfect tan shades and she seemed pretty happy at the moment.

All of the chattering amongst the students was silenced as Coach Hames, the school's favorite gym teacher by far, strode to the front with the microphone.

"Gotham Academy, give it up for our speaker, the lovely Miss Taylor Hartwig," he waited until the applause stopped before continuing. "She has taken the time from her day to come speak to you all about what happened to her and what you can do to not have the same thing happen to you."

Thousands of eyes of hazel, brown, green, gray, black and blue fell on Taylor as Coach Hames held the microphone out to her. She reached for it, a frown on her face as she furrowed her eyebrows. She got the microphone in the space between her thumb and fingers before bending her wrist so that her fingers snapped closed and she held the microphone tight. She moved her other wrist to a control panel on her arm rest and moved her wheel chair forward, calming her face down before glancing about the crowd of people before her. She cleared her throat gently before beginning.

"Alright… as you already know, my name is Taylor Hartwig and I'm a quadriplegic. When I was 14, about the age of most of you 8th graders," she glanced their way, "I got into an accident that could've been prevented if I had been more careful…"

She coughed again before elaborating.

"It was around Christmas time and my bestie and I went down to the local park that had a monster hill that everyone loved to ride down on sleds. I hopped on one sled and she hopped on the other. We didn't put on helmets even though there were a billion trees lining the hill. We just assumed, you know, nothing bad will happen to us. We went down once and it was pretty fun, nothing bad happened to us at all. So we decided to try again. Only this time, I wanted to make it more fun so I challenged her to a race.

"We got on our sleds and we took off down the hill, twice as fast now. I was ahead and I turned back to see where she was. In doing so, my sled turned around and I crashed into a tree and I hit just one little bone in my neck. Just one! I didn't even break it. I just bruised it. I didn't think too much on it because I blacked out. My friend must have called the hospital and my family because when I woke up weeks later, they told me that I would probably never be able to move anything from the waist down."

Taylor coughed again, harder this time. Her nurse came over with a water bottle.

"Hold on a second," she apologized, handing the microphone to her nurse before grabbing the water bottle with her wrists and taking a drink.

Richard frowned gently, biting hard on his bottom lip. He felt so horrible knowing that he could flip back and forth across the gym floor about one hundred times before he got tired with it or failed and she couldn't even do one without failing. He wrapped his arms gently around his stomach, his left hand over his right elbow, feeling the familiar bruise even through the spacey, overlapping folds of the t-shirt he was wearing. All of the times he had gotten his ass kicked flew through his mind and every time he had struck the ground hard enough to cry out or to spit blood now seemed meaningless. She had just bruised her vertebrate and now she was in a wheelchair? Just the thought sent shivers down Richard's back and he tried to run away the goosebumps on his arms.

"You okay?" Bailey whispered, concern in her voice.

Richard glanced her way and smiled weakly. She had short brown hair with emo like bangs that curved off to the side and oval-like glasses that were a light purple. Her eyes were a darker green and a couple of freckles were splashed across her face. At full height, she was six foot, at least three heads taller than Richard. When sitting down though, Richard's head came up to her eyebrows. Her height was mostly in her legs.

"Yeah," he lied.

She hugged him comfortingly with one warm, pulling him close for a moment.

"Don't worry Dick," she said softly, "this can't happen to us… we're stronger than this and not stupid enough to crash into trees… Well, I'm not anyway, but you might be."

Richard grinned gently and pushed her arm off.

"Jerk," he shot at her lovingly.

"And you love me for it," she teased back, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Sadly," he surrendered, cocking his head quickly as he shrugged.

"Grayson, Albright!" Mrs. Embree scolded them.

"Sorry," they both whispered in unison, shutting up.

They exchanged apologetical smiles and looked back at Taylor who was just handing back the water bottle. Bailey and Richard were like brother and sister at school. He watched out for her and she watched out for him. She was like his female Wally, someone he never wanted to lose and someone that he knew always had his back. Bailey was the first girl Richard knew that could pull off kissing him on the nose or the cheek without others thinking that they were dating. She didn't ever kiss him though, mostly because she knew how he wasn't touchy-feely like most guys. She mostly just hugged him, punched him and kicked him behind the knees so he'd collapse only to get ninja tackled and yelled at by surrounding teachers. [2]

Taylor took back the microphone with serious trouble and nodded in thanks at the nurse.

"Anyway, they put me in rehab to try to help me regain control of my muscles," she picked up. "It was so frustrating, and it still is! I can't go to the bathroom on my own, I can't dress myself, I can't drive anywhere, I can't even shower alone. How many of you honestly would be fine showering with your parents?"

The room was silent and only one hand shot up over in the 6th grade section, but the boy had Tourette's Syndrome so no one laughed at him for it. Taylor didn't notice him, or if she did, she made no comment of it.

"See? I have to do that because I can't do anything on my own. And I've lost control of my hands too. I can hold things by bending my wrist because it automatically causes my wrist to close… The only thing I can move on my hand is my middle finger. It kind of twitches."

She held up her left hand and indeed, her middle finger could move a little bit. She lowered her hand again.

"I bet she did that just so she could flip us all off," Bailey whispered to Richard, struggling to swallow a smile.

Richard felt a smile bubble to his lips, but he fought it off and playfully elbowed her in the ribs. She didn't wince because it didn't hurt, but she shut up. Tears caused his eyes sparkle gently in the light and Bailey had noticed. She hugged his arm softly. He glanced at her again and offered her a smile. Despite that, she wouldn't let go. He sighed, but didn't force her off. Her arm was right on his bruise and if she moved, it would hurt something awful and he knew it.

"In rehab they had me practice by picking up little Lincoln Logs and stacking them. On the first day, I couldn't even pick them up. I just kept trying though. On the second day, I was so happy. I had stacked five blocks! The next day, I got ten! Then after that! I had fifteen! I dropped back down to twelve the day after that, but I kept going up. A week later, I had stacked twenty five blocks! I was so happy! Then I realized I was happy because I had stacked blocks, something any Kindergartener could do. There I was, at 14, cheering at something that a 6 year old could do."

Taylor sounded so frustrated that everyone was dead silent. Some were ready to cry, others were, and some who had stone hearts were actually smiling. Either that or they were asleep, but either way, they were still smiling at a heartbreaking story. That takes some serious balls.

"Now… um… any questions?" she asked.

At least a hundred hands shot up. Her eyes scanned the crowd and she picked one random boy.

"You, up there in the red?"

The boy stood up and put a hand on either side of his mouth and yelled to be heard.

"Can you move any part of your feet?"

Taylor pursed her lips.

"Well… I can sometimes wiggle my toes," she beamed softly. "The doctors were so proud of me!"

That boy sat down and Taylor scanned the crowd again, going to the upside.

"Girl in the sparkly dress?"

A ninth grader wearing what had to be the sparkliest dress Richard had ever seen stood up. She said something, but no one heard.

"What?" Taylor raised an eyebrow, cupping her ear to show that she couldn't hear.

"Do you still hang out with your friend?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, she's the best. She helps me dress up and she takes the time to drive me to parties and stuff. We still hang out and such. Most people wouldn't though, you know?"

The girl sat down.

"I mean honestly, how many of you would do that? You'd have to drive to their house, help them out of their wheelchair and onto the bed because they can't. Then you'd have to get their clothes and help them put it on because they can't. Then you have to help them into the chair again and fix their hair and their make-up and such if they wear that kind of stuff, then you have to push the wheelchair down the steps because most houses don't have the slopes, which really kind of hurts, then you have to help them into the car and buckle their seatbelt. When you get their, you have to unbuckle their seatbelt and help them back onto the chair and adjust everything for them… How many of you have at least one friend who you'd do all that for?"

With his mind on his favorite red head and the brunette beside him, Richard's hand shot up. Bailey's hand was up too as she glanced from Richard to the short brunette beside her who also had her hand up. Taylor smiled up at the forty percent with their hands in the air.

"Alright… any other questions?"

Richard kept his hand up. Bailey raised an eyebrow, but she didn't comment. To his surprise, Taylor called on him. Being in the second row, he didn't need to yell.

"Do you think you'll ever walk again?" he asked calmly.

Taylor hesitated and everyone waited eagerly for an answer. She met his eyes and was surprised with the power they held so she averted her eyes.

"I uh… I… no… I really don't think I'll ever walk again," she admitted, "but that won't stop me from trying!"

She smiled sheepishly. Richard smiled back and she noticed.

"So um… any other questions?"

No others hands went up. Taylor exchanged glances with her nurse and Coach Hames. They both took their cue and walked to where they were supposed to be. Coach Hames grabbed the microphone from her hands.

"Let's give it up for Taylor Hartwig!" he encouraged them all.

Applause deafened the gym as some kids rose to their feet and others cheered loudly. Taylor blushed happy.

"Thank you all," she mouthed.

It took several minutes for the applause to die down, but when it did, Coach Hames didn't lower the microphone. In his eyes was a determined look, almost evil, as if he had something cynical planned for the whole of Gotham Academy.

[1] Taylor attends my school and everything she said/says really did happen to her, except for the fan of Richard Grayson. I don't know if she really likes him or not.

[2] Bailey is based on my bestie. She'll be really important later in the story, so don't forget her. BTW, no, Richard and her won't have a 'thing'. She won't be a fan pairing with anyone as long as I have control over it. She'll just be like his big sister because I know for a fact that she's older than him, by 11 days (: No seriously, isn't March 20th his birthday? Hers is the 9th.

I HATE THE WORD FORTY! It should be spelled four-ty, not forty! I don't count one, two, three, and for! I count one, two, three, and FOUR! GAH!

And I know it's really early in the story, but with your review, tell me what villain[s] you want to see in this story so I can start getting it together. If you name them, tell me a classic trait they have. I know that the Joker laughs a lot, but he's the only villain I know the traits too because I've only seen Robin in Teen Titans and this show and most of the villains in these two shows weren't reoccurring. So, review? I worked hard! This is 6 pages I tell you!

-FrankandJoe3