How Could You? Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Don't own YJ whatsoever, though I'm jealous of the people who do.
A/N at the end.
Dick's POV
After our fantastic adventure at the mall, I walk Artemis home. I had quickly changed back into my civvies before arriving at her apartment to drop her off. I'd wanted her to be safe. Anything could happen after six o'clock in Gotham City. I approach a worn down wooden door that, by the look on Artemis' face, is the door to her apartment. I say good-bye and turn to leave. Artemis grabs my arm and insists I stay.
"We have a lot to talk about." she says almost sadly.
She raps on the door quickly. Her mother answers the door, and my heart just sinks. I'd known that she was the ex-con Huntress, but Artemis had never told me she was in a wheelchair. Her mom stares at her for a long time before starting to yell.
"Artemis! You're late! I told you it's not safe to be out in Gotham after six!"
"Mom!" she groans. She gestures towards me. "We have a guest!"
I smile sheepishly. "Good evening, Mrs. Crock."
Her eyes widen as she looks me over. "You wouldn't happen to be…?"
I reach out my hand to shake hers. "Richard Grayson. Nice to meet you."
"…Richard Grayson. You're the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, right?" she says as she slowly grasps my hand. I nod.
"Please," I say, smiling a little bit more. "Call me Dick." She nods vigorously. Mrs. Crock removes her hand from mine and simply stares. I shift under her unwavering, uncomfortable gaze.
Artemis taps her foot on the ground impatiently. "Are you going to let us in Mom?"
Mrs. Crock snaps out of being star-struck and rolls backwards, moving out of the way of the door. "Of course, of course. Please, come in." I nod and follow Artemis into the house.
Artemis motions for me to enter the living room. "Sorry. It's probably not as… nice as you're used to." she says as we stood in the doorway. My eyes sweep across the room, taking in the small TV, the low table and the worn out couch. It was modest to say the least. I feel a pang in my heart.
It reminds me of my home.
My trailer back when my parents were still alive.
My sapphire eyes start to tear up. I force them back even though they make my eyes burn. I've learned to hide my emotions, even though it hurts. Emotions can be portrayed as weaknesses. Batman taught me that. Batman, not Bruce. Wally doesn't think there's a difference, but he doesn't know Bruce like I do. Bruce is kind and caring, not sharp and brooding like Batman is.
I am about to tell Artemis that it was homey when I see her on her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around her mom. I linger in the doorway longer than I should watching them hug. I smile sadly. I hate it when people complain about their parents being annoying or clingy or overprotective. They should be happy that they have parents, I think bitterly. Trust me, you never know what you have until it's gone. I walk into the room just as Artemis broke away from her Mom. She tells Artemis that she would go prepare us something to eat.
Mrs. Crock reminded me that Bruce didn't know where I was. I pull out my phone and send him a quick text. Artemis walks in and collapses on the couch, gesturing for me to do the same. I do.
"So," Artemis says, her voice muffled by the pillow she's pressed her face into. She flips onto her back to make eye contact with me. "Are you mad at me?"
I'm taken aback at how small her voice sounds. This was not the loud, obnoxious, confident Artemis I knew and loved. I pull her into a hug so quickly she gasps in surprise before hugging me back. I laugh. "Of course I'm not mad at you, Artemis! Why would you ever think that?" She pulls away, the hands still on my biceps keeping me at arms' length. She frowns.
"I almost gave away your secret identity. I beat the shit out of you in the middle of a store. I would think anger would be a reasonable emotion for you to be feeling right now." I smile. She sounds more like Artemis now, but she still sounds afraid, like I'm going to call Batman in to kick her ass for kicking mine. She reaches up and gently touches my blackening eye. I had been thankful earlier that my mask covered the bruising but it was still there. I wince and she pulls her hand away. Artemis looks down into her lap and wrings her hands together. Silent tears run down her face.
"Hey," I say softly. "C'mon, Artemis, don't cry." I lift her chin with my fingers so I can look into her tear-filled chocolate-brown eyes. "You've gotta stay whelmed. It wasn't your fault. Hell, if I had just found out one of my best friends was—" I lower my voice "—Robin, I'd react the same way. It's surprising, and I know you don't trust me anymore, but you're still my friend. I'm still going to watch out for you, even if you hate my guts. I promise." I smile, one of my real genuine smiles that I only save for people I care about.
Artemis sniffs and swipes her fist across her eyes, attempting to get rid of any tears that remain. She takes a few deep breathes before smiling back. "Thanks Dick. I-I don't hate you. Well, I did when I found out, but when I was in the cell at the mall I understood why you had to do it. Anyway, it's hard to stay mad at you." she laughed. "You're so adorable it's hard!" Artemis ruffles my hair and we laugh together, savouring each others' company.
When the crippling laughter stops, Mrs. Crock rolls in, struggling to balance a tray of sandwiches on her lap. Ignoring the vertigo I feel when I stand, I quickly go to her and remove the tray from her, smile, and place it on the table. I can't help giggling at the pile. If Wally was here, there would be no way Artemis or I would get any food. Artemis goes a little red.
"Dick, you didn't have to do that."
I grin. "I wanted to."
She shrugs her shoulders, deciding its best not to argue with me. After all, she knows Robin the Boy Wonder has a way of getting what he wants. I sit back down beside her and thank Mrs. Crock for the sandwiches. She goes red too.
For a moment Mrs. Crock sits there, staring in my direction. I didn't want to be rude but she was freaking me out. I look back into her eyes. She drops her head and looks to her lap as she flushes with embarrassment. She raises her eyes back to mine. The wear the same deep brown as Artemis'. "Rich-Dick," she began, her nervousness penetrating into her voice. Seeing her like this made it hard to believe that she was once the dangerous con Huntress. "Could you tell Mr. Wayne that I'm very grateful for the scholarship? I'm just… I'm just so glad that Artemis has the chance to have a better life than—" A tear rolls down her cheek. I feel pity tighten in my chest. I understand. She doesn't want Artemis to live the same life that she had to, that she was forced into in order to support her family. She had missed out on so many opportunities and didn't want Artemis to follow in her footsteps. I nod.
"I will certainly let him know." Mrs. Crock nods vigorously and rolls out of the room, closing the door softly as Artemis tells her thank you.
We only have to exchange a quick glance before digging into the food. We don't care about the others' manners: compared to how Wally eats, our way of shoving food into our mouth was nothing. I didn't realize how exhausted and hungry I was until then. My chest was still paining me. When we eventually flop back down onto the couch only a few small sandwiches linger on the plate.
All of a sudden Artemis says: "What's your back-story?"
I choke on my last piece of sandwich and cough hard. Artemis taps jokingly on my back. "Excuse me?"
"Your back-story. You know mine, and now that I know who you really are, I'd like to know more about how you became You-Know-Who."
I raise an eyebrow and smirk. "How I became Voldemort?"She punches me in the arm and laughs as I rub the sore spot bitterly. I'm a little miffed that she punched me after all we've been through today.
"Seriously, Dick. Tell me your story."
I sigh.
There's no getting out of this.
God if I thought Batman was going to kill me before, he's going to murder me in my sleep now.
Instead of voicing my concerns, I begin my origin story.
"When I was young, I lived at a circus with my parents. Along with my cousin and my uncle, we were trapeze artists and the star attractions of Haly's Circus, the great Flying Graysons! I loved flying through the air on the trapeze alongside my entire family. It made me feel so alive and free, like no matter how bad my life got or how many bad dreams I had it would never take away from that fantastic feeling.
"One day, a crime boss showed up at the Circus, asking the owner, ringmaster and my unofficial grandfather Haly for money. I had been walking back from getting a knife-throwing lesson from my friend when I came across them arguing about money. Haly, however, refused to pay the crime boss—Zucco was his name—any protection money as he ran an honest business. He was angry and started cursing at Haly and swore that he would pay for his ignorance. Frightened, I'd run back to my trailer and hugged my mom."
I start to get a little emotional. I can feel tears threatening to spill. I rub my hand quickly under my nose. Artemis gazed at me thoughtfully, her eyes begging me to continue.
"That night we had a performance. I can still remember every detail of that night. As always, Haly announced our arrival and the crowd went crazy. I remember smiling as I took my place beside my family and waved. The feeling of being cheered on was intoxicating. We did our more simple routine first, flying and flipping, awing the audience as we flew above their heads. Then Haly announced our most famous act, the one that everyone came to see: the Grayson Dive. It was our most dangerous, most awe-inspiring act. I'd stood on the center platform as my Mom kissed me on the head and Dad patted me on the back. I smiled up at them and asked as I did every night if I could join them this time. As always, Dad had said no. I was used to it. Even if I couldn't participate, I couldn't beat the fact that I had the best seat in the house.
"My family grasped the trapeze and waved as the crowd below gasped. I know I smiled as the net dropped from its position."
"Wait!" Artemis interrupts. She is perched on the end of the couch, engrossed in my every word. "No net? Were you guys' crazy?"
"Not crazy. Just confident." I grin. "Runs in the family." Artemis rolls her eyes at me and waves at me to carry on. "Anyway, they started their performance, flipping and twisting in ways I still couldn't believe was possible. All of a sudden, I felt my heart sink. Something was wrong. I'd been around the trapeze for so much of my life I could somehow hear the wires straining from the weight of my family. You could hear a pin drop in that room.
"That's when the wires snapped. Everything played out in slow motion: the wires snapping, my family falling, my mother reaching for my hands, her voice calling out my name desperately. And then there was the crunch as my lifelines hit the hard floor. Someone in the audience screamed. After that, everything became a blur. I remember climbing down the ladder and running to my parents, kneeling beside them. I remember tears. I remember someone screaming. I'm pretty sure it was me. I remember Bruce Wayne standing over me: he had been in the audience that night. Someone ushered me out of the room, the blood of my parents staining my hands. I was eight years old. My parents and cousin were dead. My uncle miraculously survived but became handicapped for life and was unable to take care of me."
The tears were flowing freely now but I refrain from sobbing. I couldn't do that. My parents wouldn't want me to be crying over their deaths anymore. Artemis wipes a tear off her own cheek before hugging me. I squeeze her tightly, letting myself show weakness for just a moment before I pull away.
"I was sent to a Juvenile Center because the Circus couldn't legally care for me and all the orphanages in Gotham were full. I was beat up constantly, the other boys calling me a Circus Freak. That's when Bruce Wayne arrived. He had paid for my parents' funeral. He told me he was going to take me away from this place. He told me he'd help me bring the man that took my parents away from me to justice.
"When I discovered the...Batcave," I said quietly. "I made it my goal to help Bruce in any way that I could. He had paid for my parents' funeral. He had taken me in when no one else would. I owed him my life. I trained and worked my hardest, trying to impress him and show him that I cared. One day, he discovered Zucco's location. He took me with him. It was my first mission. I finally got to bring my parent's murderer to justice. I realized at that moment that's what I wanted to do. I wanted to help him stop the bad guys and help keep anyone from going through anything like I had ever again."
Artemis stares at me right in the eyes thoughtfully, processing the story I just told. We stay locked in each other's gazes forever, neither wanting to break the peaceful silence.
A/N: Nakama no otaku kon'nichiwa! Hello fellow geeks! So I know all of you know Dick Grayson's origin story but I really wanted to write it my way. I just think his story is so sad I wanted to display it in words mostly for myself. Hope it wasn't too boring for you! Also, in one of the later chapters I want to send the team out on a mission but I'm not entirely sure what the mission should be or what should happen. I'm taking suggestions, so if you have any ideas that you want to see in this story please PM me or review with your thoughts! As always, reviews are appreciated! Happy reading and stay asterous! ;)
One more thing: Today I'm leaving for my cabin until July 29. Unfortunately, that means I will be unable to post anything with my lack of Internet there. D: However, I should still be able to reply to PM's and reviews so don't be afraid to send me something! At least look forward to a well-written and edited One-Shot when I get back!
