Part 2: Solitary

Dick got up from his bed, the light pouring into his window and the birds chirping out their cheery song, the opposite of what he felt. He had fallen asleep in his clothes from the day before. His dreams had been filled with nightmares, distorted images of Bruce, Alfred, and even his Aunt Harriet, who probably knew by now when Dick hadn't come down for dinner. He opened the door to find that the tray of food had been replaced with breakfast. So, it was apparent he was condemned to stay in his room all weekend as well.

'Bruce did say that I had to have my meals in my room,' Dick thought.

Though Alfred had fixed him his usual breakfast, Dick still did not know whether he could stomach it, so he left it sitting by his door untouched. He reclosed the door and locked it once more. He turned to look at his room, and for the first time he observed the mess his life had become from the conditions around him. Clothes were thrown all over the place. His books were in disarray, along with his desk. He had not cleaned it in over a week due to several factors. One fact, having to deal with the Joker. It was difficult to think about keeping his chores up when there was crime to fight. The other fact, having to study for the pre-college exams. With his nose stuck in a book, it was easier to ignore the fact that his clothes needed to be hung up or placed in the laundry basket. Now all that studying was going to waste since he had been banned from taking the exams.

'He believes I cheated," Dick remembered. This time Dick didn't allow his emotions to come to the surface. Instead, what was left to him was what was in front of him. So, he started to clean his room and order his thoughts.

Knock, knock.

Dick turned toward the door but did not budge. He still didn't want to talk to anyone, let alone receive another lecture about not cheating.

Knock, knock, knock. The knocking became more insistent.

"Dick open up, please," It was his Aunt Harriet. 'I want to talk to you."

Dick refused to answer. Instead he continued to pick up his clothes, placing them in the laundry basket for later and to tidy his books. If Bruce wanted him to study, the least he could do was provide a more organized place to do it and he was finding it gave him a distraction from the hurt he was feeling.

"Please, Dick," Aunt Harriet said. "I can't believe what Bruce said is true. And even if it is, I want to hear it from you."

Dick was confused by his Aunt's statement. Did she believe he was innocent or was it more likely she believed Bruce and wanted Dick to confirm it? The pang that he felt welling up from his chest decided for him. No, he did not want to find out the answer. It hurt him more to think that his Aunt Harriet didn't believe him. He went back to organizing his books and cleaning his room, trying to keep the emotions from overwhelming him.

"All right. If you're not going to talk to me, I will leave you alone then," Aunt Harriet said. "Oh Bruce, you must talk to Dick. He won't talk to me. Tell him it will be all right."

"I'm sorry Aunt Harriet, I can't," Bruce's voice now came through the door, and Dick could hear the conversation between him and his Aunt.

"But why? I don't understand."

"What isn't there to understand," Bruce was arguing with his Aunt. "He cheated or at least he was planning on cheating."

"Oh Bruce, that just doesn't sound like something Dick would do."

Dick thought he could take comfort in knowing that his Aunt Harriet wasn't so certain about his guilt as Bruce seemed to be.

"The new answer key was in his locker," Bruce said.

Dick could hear the coldness in Bruce's voice. It was colder than 'Mr. Frosty's' underwear. He had been judged by Bruce and had been found wanting.

"At least allow him to come down for dinner," Aunt Harriet requested. "He needs the comfort of his family."

"No," Bruce said. "The punishment stands. Perhaps it will teach him that cheating is a serious offence. He must take responsibility for his actions."

The voices fell silent after that. He did not hear their footsteps walk away. The hope that he might have felt died with the silence that now fell like a heavy shroud. He let the books slip to the floor, forgotten. Why should he clean his room if no one would see it? Alfred would be bringing lunch soon. Like his breakfast, it will go uneaten. He started this self-imposed fast because he was too shocked over what happened yesterday to eat. Today, his mind was a little clearer and he still maintained his innocence, despite what Bruce and the principal thought.

'Oh no," Dick thought. 'I'll be removed as President of the Student Council.'

He thought about his fellow students and what they would say. During the incident with the Joker, he argued with them about being student leaders and not taking the easy way out. He could imagine what they would think of him now if they found out. "Hypocrite," by some, "sly dog" by others. Even so, he knew what their reaction would be. 'I'll be condemned by my peers.' The loss of being President of the Student Council would also go on his record. Getting into a good university was slowly eroding. Once again he felt his chest tighten and tears well up in his eyes. He felt his body slip to the floor, his knees bent, and his head buried in his arms and knees. Hopelessness filled his every being. He allowed the grief to fill his world and for a moment he wished he had also died that day, the day his parents had lost their lives.

'I wish I was back there now, and then none of this would be happening.' He thought. 'And you wouldn't be Robin.' He debated. 'I'm not Robin now. I may not even be Robin ever again. I'm being blamed for something I didn't do. And because of it, Bruce is hurting, too. I don't even know why this is happening.'

Dick once again felt the overwhelming loneliness he felt the first day he came to live at Wayne Manor permanently. He didn't expect to feel that way. It was too soon after his parents' deaths. He actually thought about running back to the circus, until he remembered he swore an oath to fight for justice and to stay on the path for right. He had done that, kept his oath, until yesterday . . . NO! He did not steal those papers. So, why was he feeling guilty for something he didn't do?

'I feel guilty for hurting Bruce even though I didn't do anything wrong. Bruce believes I did, and that's what hurts. How can I prove that I didn't?'

Thinking about the problem, Dick realized he didn't have any proof that he didn't do it. For all intended purposes, it appeared as if he had. And for now, he wasn't going to be able to prove that he didn't until Monday, and Monday was still two days away.

Continues with Part 3: Detention