Wow... a month. I blame school... *grins sheepishly* Follow me on tumblr? No... okay.

To robgray1: Yeah... but it's fanfiction. And if you'd read the Authors Note in the beginning, you'd see my reasoning. I recommend reading everything before you say something.

Only the wisest and the stupidest of men never change.
- Confucius

Dick rushed into school, holding is books tight against his chest, his blue eyes flitting between all the older kids that loomed over him. Bruce had enrolled him in the dreaded private school. It had taken both him and Alfred to convince him to go. He wanted to continue homeschooling with Alfred but he was already passed his grade level by two grades and Alfred had "other things to do" than to sit and make sure he did his grammar correctly.

So here he was at Gotham Academy, school for the snobby and the rich.

He was trying to avoid all the Middle Schoolers and High Schoolers, at least, his light feet dancing in and out in between the hoard of students that stood around in their stiff uniforms, chatting and laughing. A few managed to see him, but brushed him off as unimportant and continued talking with their friends.

The courtyard itself was big. The school had three rectangle buildings that were all connected, creating three walls around a cobblestone yard. Giant arches stood out to the streets of Gotham, gargoyles sitting out in the front. Four patches of grass with multiple types of trees lay evenly spaced along the cobblestone, benches made of stone stood up against the huge oaks and maples.

He kept his eyes toward the ground and kept resisting the urge to scratch his gelled back hair that Bruce insisted on. It was stiff, hard and he preferred his hair hanging in his eyes. But no, couldn't have that! He had to look like a good rich little boy. He didn't have to act snobby but he had to act at least a little grateful. And he was, so the task wouldn't be so difficult. He wore a white button up shirt with a navy blue blazer, the school's emblem on the left. He wore Khaki slacks and nice, black dress shoes. He had referred to it as "the monkey suit". Anything that restricted his movements in anyway was dubbed as such.

"Hey! Richard!"

Dick froze for a split second, hesitation coming with the thought of whether or not he should turn around. A smile grazed his lips as he pivoted on his heels, eyes still facing the ground. He was almost to the front doors of the school, about twenty feet away, and yet Barbara Gordon stalked up to him with a smile on her face. Her red hair was tied back in a bun and her blue eyes shone brightly in the seven O'clock sun.

"I heard you were going to be here! Didn't know if I could spot 'ya!" she exclaimed, grasping his hand and pulling him toward a nearby bench, away from the doors. He glanced back at them, and then at her. She was chatting about the charity event where they had met. Sure, they hung out and he had even considered her a possible friend, but she acted as if they had been friends since forever.

"Yeah," he replied back weakly, "Bruce thought it would be good."

"Oh, he's brilliant that man, brilliant I tell you!" she laughed, throwing her head back and causing a few people to stare at them weirdly. He glanced around nervously; he had planned to not drag attention to himself.

"Barbara, I really should get going. Can I go?" he implored, his eyes flitting back toward the doors. She followed his gaze and then rolled her eyes, a small smirk on her face. He scowled, yes he liked Barbara, but she had to get a grip. He hated serious moments, sure, but he was trying not to drag attention to himself. Being raised in a circus didn't help and when everyone knew his name and pretty much what he looked like, Barbara wasn't being the most helpful person in the world to his cause.

"Please?" he begged, sliding his hand from hers. He was only eight but was bright enough to figure this out. The ten year old girl looked at him with pity and let out a "tsk, tsk" sound, while shaking her head. He stared at her, his eyes conveying confusion.

"Poor Dick, still hasn't figured out the ropes yet, has he?" she gave him a side hug and gestured to the courtyard of the school. "Don't worry, I'll show 'ya. What lunch you got?"

And so it was. The two would meet up at lunch everyday and finish eating early. Barbara would then show him something new everyday; the library, the gym, the Science Corridor, the Gymnastics gym (which she figured he'd like) and the Green House. They became good friends, often calling each other up. Barbara did not mind Dick's age and in fact enjoyed having him around. Her others friends could not comprehend why she would hang out with the circus boy and eventually ditched her all together. The girl brushed it off and continued to hang out with Dick.

They were the loners, the outcast. Barbara was "scholarship girl" and Dick was "circus freak" and "charity case". He was taunted continuously about how Bruce did not love him. He never listened. Of course, the boy was merely eight and the insults and taunts weighed him down. But he thought of his mother and kept going strong.

Until that one day.

He was walking the halls alone, as Babs was sick that day, and he held his books tight to his chest. His face was turned down toward the tiled floor and his eyes looked sad. He was remembering the one song his mother used to sing and it kept ringing in his head, over and over, the chorus of the song.

"Hey, circus freak!" One boy, Markus Lee, stomped forward, his big feet engulfing Dick's vision. Dick slowly brought his head up to Marcus's twisted face. He felt a sense of fight or flight in him but his feet stood frozen. He wasn't ready for this yet. He still had yet to covince Bruce...

Kids crowded around him, High Schoolers and Middle Schoolers stood there watching, their books in their arms or backpacks, eyes trained on Markus.

"Yes?" he asked hesitantly, staring right into the older boys brown eyes. He felt so small, compared to Markus, his small frame a twig compared to Markus' tall, burly body. Markus sneered and threw his head back. His hand shot out and grasped Dick's wrist, causing the eight year old to drop his books in surprise a small eep! coming from his mouth. Markus slammed Dicks body into the lockers, the kids watching jumping out of the quickly and surrounding them.

Dick struggled against Markus' hold, kicking and hitting Markus in the stomach. His efforts were in vain, as he could not escape from the boys strong grip. Hesitating then no longer, Markus got up in Dick's face, having to lean down, and whispered, "You miss mommy? Huh, circus freak?"

Dick stopped struggling, his form becoming still as his eyes stared at the ground with an empty look. Markus sneered and laughed along with a few of the High Schoolers, his grip on Dick's wrist tightened and the boy winced, his face contorting into a look of pain. Markus simply laughed, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer.

"I bet she doesn't even miss you, I bet she's glad."

And that's when Dick's right fist smashed into Markus' face.

"Bruce, please?"

"Dick," the older man replied back calmly, folding his arms in his Lay-Z Boy, "it's too dangerous. I don't' want you to get hurt."

"I won't!" Dick exclaimed, leaning forward in the chair across from Bruce's desk, "I'll be trained by you! And you know I can throw a knife! You saw!"

"Not in the way I wanted to see."

Dick nodded slowly, sinking back into his chair. It was pointless, really, arguing with Bruce. And he was right, Dick admitted, it probably wasn't the way he wanted to see if he could throw a knife or not. But Zucco got what he deserved and that was enough for him. It was just a matter of letting Bruce understand this. He wanted to help! Sure, Batman didn't need help, but it would be nice to have a partner to watch the batmobile and could also defend himself incase it would get robbed! Like, someone tried to steal the wheels of the batmobile! He would be able to stop them.

"Dick, are you listening?"

Dick's head snapped up and his thoughts quickly vanished as he look upon an unamused Bruce. He smiled sheepishly and sat up, gripping the sides of the chair with his hands. "No?"

Bruce sighed, clasping his hands together and looking at his desk uncomfortably. He remained like this for a few seconds and his eyes narrowed occasionally. Dick watched him with wary eyes, his mind mulling over what Bruce would say. All in all, he didn't think his request would be accepted. He was still mourning, gravely, but he did that at night, in his dreams. Where they would plague him with memories.

Music floated in the background from the old record player that remained on a shelf with a few books. On it played a melody Dick didn't recognize, a soft and calming, even eerie, piano song. The keys floated through the air like a breeze, catching you off guard when they suddenly popped up without warning.

"Dick," Bruce muttered suddenly, looking up, "I'll have to think about this. You're young and you need to learn discipline. I think you can handle training, but I don't know if you can handle reality."

Dick looked at Bruce with wide eyes, a hint of wariness floated about them, but then the boy sprung up and nodded. "I can!" And with a short smile toward Bruce, he sped out from about the room, tripping slightly over the golden floral carpet. Bruce slowly shook his head and turned away, looking out at the fall leaves. A wind caught in the trees, blowing an array of gold, orange and red around in the wind. He sighed deeply and clasped his hands once more together, leaning back in the chair.

"Mary Grayson, please forgive me."

Dick walked into his room cheerfully, but then his shoulders sagged and his head hung. Bruce still didn't know about the fight. The school had yet to call, even though it was almost a week ago. But then he smiled and flopped down on his bed' he had convinced Bruce to let him be Batman's partner! A name.. he had to think of a name.

He looked around his room for inspiration. The Light! He thought as he looked at a faded lamp and then laughed, and shook his head. No, that was silly. His eyes touched everything on the side he was facing so he spun around on his buttocks, twisting the grey sheets up, and sat there looking around the room. His eyes landed on a package. He leapt of the bed and walked over to it. He'd never gotten a package before and a flutter of excitement enveloped in his stomach. He reached over and picked it up. The box was light and as he shook his he heard something rattling, the something was rather large, inside it. He grabbed some scissors and, not bothering to see who it was from, he ripped it open.

When he saw what was inside, his heart stopped. Tentatively reaching in, he grasped the small leather booklet that had once belonged to his mother. The book still like it did almost two years ago and he grasped it tightly, blue eyes staring at it as if it were a treasure. He delicately reached and opened the leather cover, to the first page. It was written in his mothers elegant handwriting, the flourishes on the 'f's and 's's still there. He read the first three words: My little Robin...

He grabbed the box and looked at who sent it. A smile grazed his lips: Samantha Parker, the agent from DC. Robin... he smiled and tucked the booklet away in his desk. That would be his name.

Robin.

These two quotes are supposed to make you laugh: (Winston Churchill)

Bessie Braddock: "You, sir, are drunk!"

Churchill: "And you, madam, are ugly. In the morning, I shall be sober and you will still be ugly."

Nancy Astor: "Sir, if you were my husband, I would give you poison." Churchill: "If I were your husband I would take it."

It's 1:22 AM right now where I am. Started type at 10:00 PM. I'm dead tired.

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