Young Justice 1. Back-To-School Shopping

**Summary: The team decides to go back-to-school shopping and manage to rope Roy in long with them. Things don't go as planned. **

**Notes: Enjoy please and thank you okay okay enjoy here you go :)**

* * *

"That one."

"_No _Conner. No more Superman shirts."

"How about that one?"

"_No._"

"But that shirt is red, not black."

"It's still a Superman shirt."

"What about this one?"

"Conner, _no._"

"What about-"

"Let's go to a different store."

* * *

Roy glanced at his ringing phone. He picked it up on the third ring.

"Roy."

"Dick."

"Roy."

"What?"

"Roy."

"Yes?"

"Roy."

"Stop."

"Roy."

"Dick-"

"Roy."

"Seriously, stop-"

"Roy."

"What?"

"Roy."

"Dude. I'm not falling for this agai-"

"Roy."

Roy doesn't know how they managed to rope him into this. But they did. Like always.

* * *

The team *coughcoughKaldurcough* had decided that going back-to-school shopping would be a fantabulous bonding moment. Not to mention Robin so generously offered to pay-with Bruce's debit card, he might add, but no one had to know that. After getting everyone up and ready, they decided to leave the Cave at 10am.

They all piled into one van, managing to convince Roy to come along and drive. Robin sat in the passenger seat holding a paper map of Happy Harbor, and with his legs crisscrossed and his small body content with the ample space of his seat. However, the other five in the back weren't as pleased. Two seats were behind the front row, and where the third seat would be was a small pathway to the back three. Kaldur and Wally sat in the middle two seats with Artemis, Megan, and Conner occupying the back three. Whilst they didn't have anyone sitting on laps or shoved against windows, things got hectic fast.

"Stop flicking me, Baywatch!"

"You stop calling me Baywatch, Arty-farty!"

"Seriously? That the best you got?"

"I've got more than you!"

"I could take you down in a second, carrot top!"

"Prove it!"

"I will"

"Perhaps we should turn respectively towards the front and remain calm my friends-"

"Listen to Fishboy, Kid Idiot. Turn around!"

"I will once you stop!"

"Guys, maybe now isn't the best time to fi-"

"Maybe now isn't the time to interrupt!"

"Fishboy?"

"Don't talk to Megan like that!"

"Baywatch cut it out!"

"Wally buckle up!"

"Can't Sweet Cheeks. I'm a little busy."

"Yeah, Fishboy! That's what you should call yourself!"

"I don't believe that was very kind-"

"Can't you see I'm busy Kaldur? Now isn't the time!"

"Wally that wasn't nice!"

"Yeah Baywatch!"

"Shut it, Replacement!"

"Make me, Kid Mouth!"

"Shut up, both of you!"

"Stay out of this Conner!"

"That is not a respectful tone to speak towards others."

"Whatever, Oh' wise and responsible leader.

"Artemis, please."

"Everybody shut the freaking crap up!" The residents of the car turned towards Roy, who was gripping the wheel tightly. "Can you idiots just stay quiet for a few seconds?!"

A pregnant silence loomed over the van for exactly twenty seconds.

"Stop flicking me, Baywatch!"

"You stop calling me Baywatch, Arty-farty!"

The other five teens all groaned.

* * *

Currently, it was 12:14 pm, and already the group had gone to seven stores and brought the majority of every store. At one point, as Robin handed a young cashier the gold debit card to pay for the six bags of clothing. As they walked out of the store, Conner asked,

"Wait, how to you have the money for this. Isn't all this going to put a huge dent in your bank account?" Roy snorted and mumbled,

"Please, you could buy the whole mall and not make a scratch on that pretty-boy account." Conner and Artemis raised an eyebrow at the comment, and Wally snickered. To which Robin smirked.

Artemis turned and glanced over the other six- not wait, five- teens.

"Uhh, guys..."

The men turned to see Artemis pointing a finger at the Victoria's Secret, and a oblivious Megan walking inside. The group shuddered, well, Roy and Wally smirked, and quickly followed their resident alien.

Twenty minutes later, The group discovered Artemis guilty pleasure of Flash bras, and Megan's obsession with lace underwear. Not exactly information that was pleasing to the others, but hey, Conner and Wally didn't mind. After buying the expensive items, the group raced out of the store. They stopped outside, on a bench, before Robin walked back in.

"So you're the infamous Roy Harper?"

"I am."

"Your eyes really are amazing."

"Not as beautiful as your- wha- hey, Hey! Woah! Rob, let me go- slow down will ya?

"Let's go Roy boy."

Robin dragged the older out of the store and towards the others, leaving the blonde bombshell stunned in the middle of Victoria's Secret."

* * *

Now, it was 2:27 pm, and the group had left Areopostle and headed towards the food court.

"Thai."

"Dude, no. Chinese."

"Guys, we gotta go all American!"

"I'm settling for Sea Food."

"Do not endanger my friends! We should eat and the Chicken Restaurant!"

"What does Ice Cream taste like?"

"We aren't eating ice cream! American!"

"You idiots, obviously we should eat Chinese."

"Gross! No! Let's just eat Thai!"

"How is that different from Chinese?"

"They are completely different! Lets just eat sea food!"

"Not the fish!"

"Well then what the crap are we gunna eat?!"

"Ice cream!"

"We are _not_ eating ice cream!"

"Screw this crap."

* * *

"Wally, is that the place you and Robin talk about?"

"What, oh, hey Sweet Cheeks- ROBIN IT'S HOT TOPIC."

"DUDE."

"No."

"BUT ROY."

"No."

"THEY ARE HAVING A DOCTOR WHO BLOWOUT."

"No."

"YOU ARENT MY MOM. COME ON ROB."

"This looks... scary."

"Yeah, it's Hot Topic."

"What's a Fall Out Boy?"

"Well, Con, it's-"

"Robin I swear if you corrupt Conner you are screwed."

"Rooooooooy."

"No."

"But Rooooooy."

"No."

"Ugh."

"Rob, If you are going to corrupt Conner, at least do it with Doctor Who."

"What's Doctor Who?"

"Well Conner..."

* * *

"Guys where did we park?"

* * *

**HELLO HI.**

**Review or PM requests and I will try my best! **

**SERIOUSLY PEOPLE REVIEW GOSH**


	2. Yeah but, Did You Win?

**see I told you updates would be faster yay **

**Notes: Short drabble because Nightwing is chill and what not**

* * *

Robin and Batgirl entered the cave, the computerized voice announcing their arrival. From the training room, where Nightwing and Lag'aan were sparring, the team raised they're eyebrows. The two had been twenty minutes late, and, usually, Bats were the first ones in the training room.

At their arrival, Nightwing looked up momentarily. Robin has practically hiding behind Babs, and she looked, well, pissed. He sighed, and dragged the Atlantian's feet from under him ending the fight. After the mountain announced La'gaan's fail, he walked over to his partners, turning to the group.

"Uhh, Cassie, Jaime, hand-to-hand spar. After, Bart and Gar, hand-to-hand too," he stated to the teens, before turning back to Batgirl. "Babs, what's up?"

She looked down at Robin. "He got in a fight."

"It's not my fault!"

Batgirl sighed, and said, "Wing, tell your brother he's not supposed to fight."

Nightwing raised an eyebrow, and stared at Robin. "Rob, don't fight." Then, he turned towards his red headed friend. "There."

"Wing!" She scolded the teen, and rolled her eyes behind her mask. "Punish him too."

"Wait- why?"

"He got in a fight, pixie boots!"

"Yeah, but," Nightwing looked down at his somewhat-embarrassed brother, and frowned slightly. "Did you win?"

"Wing!"

"Yes," Robin half-whispered, and Nightwing nodded.

"Then there's absolutely nothing to talk about." He then ruffled Robin's hair, and beamed. "That's my brother."

"Nightwing!"

* * *

**Okay there you go! **

**Review or PM suggestions if you'd like! They can be any season, any ship, whatever you want. :) **


	3. An Idiot's Guide to Camping

**Summary: Roy and Artemis somehow end up joining the team in camping. They hate camping. And squirrels. They hate squirrels too. **

**Note: Umm hello please continue on**

* * *

Artemis sighed. She was _not _happy.

"Come on, Babe! It'll be fun!"

Psh, sure. That was the last time anyone was going to screw her over. Everyone who thought this was _fun_ was a delusional freak.

Camping, was definitely _not _fun.

* * *

Robin walked through the thick rain under a black umbrella. His soft, damp hair fell in his face, beading droplets of water off his nose. It smelled nice, like fresh dewdrops falling from moist leaves in arrays along the forest grounds. It smelled similar to the woods in spring behind the Manor. He smiled.

He looked up and turned abruptly, walking up a few steps to a shabby run down house, before knocking quite roughly. He felt himself being watched through the peep hole in the door, before a set of locks were unhooked and the door swung open.

"Roy."

"Dick! Are you insane? It's freaking slamming down rain." Robin felt himself be lead through the doorway, and heard Roy slam the door to prevent a carnival of rain pour through. . He looked down, maintaining and emotionless expression, before speaking again.

"Roy."

"What?"

"Roy."

"Dick."

"Roy."

"_What_?" Dick looked up, expression still blank, and stared the tall archer in the eyes.

"Roy." As Roy, who was quite annoyed at this point, opened his mouth to reply, his eyes grew wide.

"Oh, no. Not this again."

"Roy."

"Dick, I am not going along with whatever plan you have in that little demon head of yours."

"Roy."

Roy doesn't know how he ended up here. But he sure as hell was going to make that little ninja pay.

* * *

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun.

They had put their tents up just before a sky of pastels appeared over the trees. The moon seemed to turn the leaves into a flaming patchwork of colours: scorching-yellows, lava-reds and burnished-browns. It added an alien glamour to a perfect scene. They heard a greedy thrush, snail a-tapping on rock; quickly they finished his supper before fluttering into the owl-light of the forest.

This was going to be fun.

At least, in everyone but Artemis' and Roy's minds.

This most definitely was _not_ going to be fun.

* * *

"Argh!" Artemis huffed as her tent fell, yet again when she tried to go inside.

Wally, in seeing his girlfriend so aggravated, laugh rather whole-heartedly, before setting down the package of beef jerky in his hands to help her keep the putrid thing in place.

After a while, Wally stepped back to admire his work, and smiled in self-admiration. He walked back to his and Robin's tent before stepping and inside and burst out laughing with the younger.

Across the campsite, an harsh scream of annoyance sounded from a collapsed tent.

* * *

Roy sighed as he sat gently on the soft grass that smelled similar to a lavender fragrance. He smiled. This was nice. The other six decided to go down to the lake for the day, which left Roy the perfect opportunity in his grasp to actually get some piece and quiet.

Laying back, he put his hands behind his head and crossed his feet. Closing his eyes, he felt the woods consume him.

After what seemed like hours, he opened his eyes, but as he did, he saw a silvery droplet fall from the sky and land on the bridge of his nose. It left a wet feel, and Roy sighed.

"Crap."

It was just a little sprinkle, though, he thought.

It poured buckets on him, drenching his body instantly.

"I spoke to soon."

Lightning flashed across the greys of the sky and thunder rolled in waves around him.

"Seriously.

He heard a growl behind him. He turned, and saw a non too happy squirrel staring at him.

"Shi-"

* * *

"Just one more day," thought Roy. "Just one more."

He tied his boots, before stepping out of the ironically red tent he'd made home over the past five days. Wally and Robin sat on rocks, arguing about some stupid anime already dressed with their backpacks on. Megan stood behind Conner, helping him situate his backpack. Kaldur stood alone, heating something in a metallic pan over a fire.

"Kaldur-" he began.

"Please, Roy. I wish to hike alone."

Reluctantly, he turned and walked to the one member left and crossed his arms. Artemis had her hair in a French braid down her back, with, a cliché Green Arrow green backpack. She was hunched over, buckling her boots. Once down, she stood and turned. At the sight of the red head, she grimaced.

"Red plaid shirt? Your taking this whole Red Arrow thing a little far."

"Your one to talk. Add an arrow to that backpack and your complete."

"Whatever. Let's just get through this 5 mile hike, go to bed, and leave this cursed dump." Roy raised an eyebrow.

"For once, I agree with you, newbie."

Robin called out to the others, "Change of plans! It's eight miles instead of five. Wally has the new map."

The two archers growled simultaneously, before walking towards the others to begin their trail.

But, of course, Artemis tripped.

To which Roy fell on top of her.

Things were going splendidly.

* * *

It had been two hours and Artemis new without a doubt they were lost.

Also, she had trip five times.

And had a branch stuck in her hair.

"Roy."

"Hmm." He looked back towards her.

"Did you grab the map?"

"You grabbed it."

"No... You did."

"Funny, Blondie, but you grabbed the map."

"No I didn't."

"Umm..."

"Crap."

"Just freaking great."

As if things were to movie perfect, another squirrel attacked Roy at that very moment.

* * *

Six hours later, at close to nine pm, the two stumbled back into camp.

Artemis, with seven scrapes and twelve bruises, and four sticks in her hair, and Roy, with a sprained wrist and nineteen bite marks.

* * *

Roy decided he didn't like camping.

Neither did Artemis.

* * *

**Sorry for the crappy ending, but I just wrote two in less than a day. YAY!**

**Please review or PM ideas, meh babehs.**

**:)**


	4. Comic-Con

**Hello friend.**

**Notes: contains slight fangirling over Marvel and Superwholock so be warned.**

* * *

"I do not understand."

"Hmm? What do ya' mean?"

"Well, I understand we are here to worship the characters, but, why must we dress up?"

"Kaldur, this is Comic-Con. It's what you do."

"Why must I wear a blue scarf and this coat? And was it necessary to make me put put on a black curly haired wig?"

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes."

"Robin, I'm still confused. Why are you wearing a suit and a trench coat?"

"Because I'm Castiel."

"Castiel who?"

"Just Castiel. And Wally's the eleventh Doctor, that giraffe" Robin snickered at that, and added, "Roy's Dean Winchester."

"Where is the rest of the team?"

"Superboy is in the bathroom checking his Iron Man outfit, and Megs and Artemis, or, should I say, Black Widow and Black Widow are trying to meet Tom Hiddleston."

"Why are they both spiders, and who is Tom Hiddleston?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes, and also, why isn't Wally wearing the proper uniform if he is a doctor?"

"Holy Chuck, we have work to do. Next thing you know you're going to be asking who Jensen Ackles is I mean honestly."

"Who-"

"Don't."

* * *

After realizing that Comic-Con was in Gotham, Dick Grayson was the first to buy tickets.

Well, he bought first row seats for the panels. For a few thousand dollars. Off of some mediocre fans.

And of course invited Wally, Roy, and Barbara.

Then, after Megan asked what Comic-Con even was, he invited the team as well.

* * *

Nine days prior to Gotham's Comic-Con, Megan and Artemis both decided to be Black Widow. And after finding out Tom Hiddleston would be there, Wally decided it best to watch the Captain America 1 &amp; 2, Iron Man 1, 2 &amp; 3, Thor 1 &amp; 2, Avengers, and, like, four X-Men movies all in row. Needless to the girls loved it. Then, after Roy freaked out about finally going to the Con because it had be "seven trillion years", he just absolutely had to show all nine Sherlock episodes to the team. Then Robin spent four days showing the team the first six seasons of Supernatural, but sadly didn't have time for the rest. And then, Robin, Roy and Wally all forced them to spend every other space second watching as much Doctor Who as possible.

Of course, though Kaldur was in Atlantis during all of this, and was completely confused.

* * *

"Hurry the freak up Baywatch! I am not missing the Sherlock panel because of you!"

"Relax, we won't miss it, Arty. Rob's got reserved first row seats."

"First row?!"

"Yup. Bless the little angel." Behind Artemis and Wally, a Castiel-dressed Robin groaned..

"Wally- did you just call me an angel? Not your best. You've done better."

"Yeah, well, cut me some slack."

"Wait, why did Wally call you an angel, Robin?"

"Becaaaause Kaldur. Cas is an angel. Gosh I swear..."

* * *

"Holy crap it's Misha Collins!"

"He's even more amazing in person!"

"I'm dying! Literally freaking dying I swear!"

"Guys that's Misha Collins! Its actually him holy Cas!"

"Wait- who's Misha Collins?"

"KALDUR STOP RUINING THE PARADE."

* * *

"Guys- it's Matt Smith."

"It's actually him!"

"He's actually a real human being and-"

"I'm confused. Who-"

"Don't. Finish. That Sentence, Kal. Don't even finish that sentence."

* * *

"It's- It's- It's-"

"Who is-"

"KALDUR."

* * *

**Umm okay sorry this took so long to get out and sorry to those of you who don't watch any of the shows mentioned above and/or are fans. But hey, oh well. Also, yeah I know there are multiple comic-cons, but for the sake of this we are going to pretend that it was all in one. ( because I'm too lazy to write multiple drabbles)**


	5. Lady Gaga

**Notes: Bart is Lady Gaga**

"HOLA!"

"Jesus, ese! Could you try _not_ scaring me to death for once?! I'm trying to watch TV here!" Jaime shot up from his position on the couch, and when he saw what Bart- the resident speedster who had just given him a heart attack- was wearing, he burst out laughing. "Bart, what on earth are you wearing? It's ridiculous!"

"Oh, this? This is my new costume,"

"Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious! I'll get all the ladies this way!" To defend his point, Bart wriggled his eyebrows, and ran a hand through his hair mockingly.

_This Bart Allen is an idiot. He cannot defend himself in battle if we attack now- he is oblivious. _Jaime raised an eyebrow, mouth curving upwards. What was with Khaji Da wanting to kill his team? Either way, he left the comment aside. "More like all the dogs, psh."

And then, as if time couldn't have been more kind to his statement, Wolf came trotting in, and sniffed Bart's side. Promptly bursting out laughing, Jaime forgot the TV and stood up, walking over to his teammate.

"Dude, I spent like- twenty minutes on this. Come on, this is _gold_! I, personally, think I'm a genius, an innovator, and entrepreneur-"

"Pretty sure Lady Gaga already invented that."

"I should be seen upon as a god- wait. What?"

"Yeah, hermano. She wore that in, like, 2011." _My research shows 2010. "_Actually- make that 2010."

"No."

"Yup. Scarab just confirmed."

"Seriously?"

"Uh huh."

"Crap."

Just then, Wolf bit on Bart's 'costume,' and tore nearly half of it off. He then proceeded to eat it.

At losing his outfit, Bart squealed, and ran off. Jaime simply sat back down, chuckling.

Bart was wearing a _dress, _made of _meat_.


	6. Parent-Teacher Conference

**Notes: Wonder Woman is not afraid.**

* * *

"So this here... is your daughter?"

"Yes."

"Alright... well, let's get started then."

Cassie Sandsmark sat next to Diana Prince (or currently Diana Sandsmark- her mother) in a big, suffocating chair in front of a dark, wooden desk. On the other side of the desk sat Ms. Tretta, her English teacher. By no means did Diana and Cassie look alike, aside from maybe the eyes, but honestly, what was she to do? Her mother, Helena, had abandoned her, and it wasn't like Zeus was going to show up claiming to be her dad. So, Diana, after overhearing Cassie wine scream to Barbara over the phone about a parent teacher conference, she ever so lovingly stepped in.

"As you know," Ms. Tretta started, pushing her bright red glasses to the bridge of her nose, "Cassie isn't exactly a... bright student," she looked off of a paper, before turning and looking Diana in the eye. Inwardly, Cassie scowled. She was ugly. "Clearly you've seen her repor-"

"Excuse me?" Diana interrupted, her voice calm and smooth. It was like creeping up on a fly to kill it- Tretta was so in for it. Ha! Serves her right!

"Well," Tretta paused. "She didn't meet the standards on the last final she took, and just last week, she was going off about the truth behind Greek Mythology. She practically got in a fist fight with someone, a fellow classmate, who said that mythology wasn't real."

"Did she hurt this child?"

"Well, no-"

"Then why in Heaven's have you called me here? I see no problem in Cassie expressing her beliefs."

"Ms. Sandsmark, she could qualify for an special ed. tutor."

"Or maybe I'll take her out to see a movie."

"Excuse me?"

"You, Edith, can I call you Edith?"

"No-"

"Well, _Edith_, I think that maybe you should mind your own business and leave poor Cassie alone."

"Ms. Sandsmark, Cassie is unqualified!"

"You are unqualified!" Diana screamed, glaring at the old hag of a teacher. An awkward silence passed, before Tretta bravely began,

"I am Cassie's teacher, and you should know that Cassie-"

"Deserves ice cream? I agree." With that, Diana stood with one swift motion, and walked towards the door. Cassie followed behind, slowly getting up from her seat, and smirking at Ms. Tretta. Hand on the handle, Diana opened the door as Ms. Tretta called out,

"She's intellectually challenged, Ms. Sandsmark!"

Diana froze, Cassie almost bumping into her, and turned around slowly.

"And you," she stated, voice dripping venom, "Are facially challenged. Simply put, Edith: you're hideous."


	7. The Feeling is(n't) Mutual

This one was suggested by: TonyTheBalcony

Notes: i dont have any

* * *

Zatanna smirked, trailing her fingers along the backside of the couch as she walked passed. Behind her, Wally and Artemis were shouting. Again. At each other's throats, everyday! A constant battle. Why couldn't they just shut up and tolerate the other for once? Seriously! To be frank, she'd had enough. And, luckily, she had just the solution.

"I hate you!"

"Yeah, well, I hate you too!"

Turning swiftly, she pointed a finger at the two. Of course, they didn't notice.

"Ugh, you're so infuriating!"

"Oh, please, Blondie! You're no better!"

Silently thanking her father for her blessed abilities, she mumbled a few words, and closed her eyes.

"This is all you're fault! It always is!"

"You're the one who's always trying to get the last word!"

And then-

_Silence. _

Peering through one cracked eye, Zatanna was relieved to find that her spell had worked.

Artemis and Wally were no longer fighting, but instead... the opposite.

When Zatanna saw what they were doing instead of bickering like wild boars, she burst out laughing. Wally and Artemis were kissing each other. Fully. On the lips. With her arms around his neck and his cupping her cheeks. Once they heard her, though, they immediately broke apart, wiping their mouths and stuttering incoherent sentences.

"Z- Zatanna?" Artemis asked, eyes wide and forearm against her mouth. The team's resident blonde glared at Zatanna a moment, before asking, "Did you- did you do this?"

"Do what?" Play it cool. Play it cool...

"You know! Make me kiss Baywatch! Ugh! It was so gr- gr- so gr- eat!" The second the words left her tongue, she flew a hand over her mouth. Wally turned slightly to stare at Artemis, astounded. Although, the surprise could've been taken for exasperation.

"Did you- did you just kissing me was great?" He made a disgusted face, continuing "I ha- h- h-onor you, so much." Wally's eyes shot up at lighting speed. Did he just say that?

Across the room, Zatanna was biting her thumb to keep from bursting into laughter. This was gold! Looking back, she was glad to have included Robin in on the scheme, because without him, the cave's system wouldn't be recording this.

"Excuse me? Listen up, Kid Idiot! I can't freaking stand- not being with you!"

"Yeah, well, I hope you give up and quit- not being with me!"

"I wish you'd just leave- me, because I'm not worthy!"

"Get a grip, Arrow Breath, you're so in-fatuating!"

"Ugh, I love you!"

"Well, I love you too!"

Four hours later, when Robin came strolling in to the mountain only to find Artemis and Wally making out on the couch, it raised a few eyebrows.

"Hey, Zee?" He called out to the magician. From inside the pantry, she replied. "So, wasn't the spell supposed to wear off by now?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah, that. Nah, it wore off _hours_ ago," she said, smirking. Robin tossed another glance at his friends on the couch.

"Do they know it wore off?"

"I'm not sure... but hey, at least they aren't trying to kill each other. Am I right?"


	8. Dimension Traveling Bats

Notes: This one wasn't requested, but I thought it'd be funny. Jason, Dick, and Tim from another universe get sent to Season 2.

* * *

"This is all your fault!"

"My fault? Listen, _Replacement_, it was your plan that landed us here!"

"Guys."

"My plan? I was carrying out orders- something you neglect to perform!"

"Neglect to perform? I knew from the beginning the plan was stupid; no way was I going to follow orders!"

"Guys."

"We are a team, we work together, we follow the plan."

"I never asked to be a part of this!"

"Guys!"

"You could walk out at any moment, then!"

"Maybe I will!"

"SHUT. UP."

Red Hood and Robin shot their eyes towards their older brother, Nightwing.

"Geese, 'Wing. Calm down," Red Hood stated, unhooking his helmet and taking it off.

Robin nodded. "Yeah, relax."

Jason turned his head towards Robin. "Hey, don't follow my comments up, bird brain!"

"I wasn't!"

"Yeah, you just did!"

"Did not!"

While the two 'heroes' gnawed at each other's throats, Nightwing just sighed, placing his head in his hands. They just _had_ to fight; and here of all places! He cleared his throat. "IF BOTH OF YOU DON'T SHUT UP RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO GET MYSELF HOME, AND LEAVE YOU TWO IDIOTS HERE."

Of course, now the entire room went silent.

Except for Jason.

"Where are we anyway?"

"How should I know?"

The three looked around the room.

"What is this- some kind of headquarters or crap?" Jason, asked, instinctively reaching for the gun at his waist. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

"See! There you go again, following up my comments! They don't need following up!"

"Whatever, Hood! At least I'm smarter than you!"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

* * *

Across the room, twelve teens stood, bewildered.

"Hey... Nightwing?" Nightwing looked down at the person next to him.

"Yeah, Gar?"

"Is that you? And is that Tim?" He asked, pointing to the two look-alikes.

"I'm... not sure," he answered, honestly. Last time he checked, Dick Grayson was the only Nightwing alive. But... this guy looked pretty similar.

Conner cleared his throat. "Is that- is that Jason?"

"I don't know, probably."

"If so, then that's most likely Tim. They're practically trying to kill each other."

"Yeah."

Robin, from the back of the crowd, quietly added, "That guy with the red hood is a _total_ jerk."

The other eleven turned to face him, eyebrows raised.

"What? I'm just saying. I don't like him."

Nightwing turned back to Conner.

"Yeah, it's probably Jason and Tim."


	9. Nightwing's Eyes are(n't) Galaxy Blue

Note: I've got 2 requests that'll be out tomorrow and the following day. Don't worry- I haven't forgotten you!

* * *

"I bet they're blue."

"You bet what are blue?" Batgirl asked, walking into the kitchen. Behind the counter, kneeling down, was Jaime, Cassie, Karen, Mal, and Garfield. They all waved silently at the red head upon entry. Without hesitation, Karen spoke up,

"Nightwing's eyes."

At the thought, Batgirl raised an eyebrow, albeit behind her sunglasses, though the group couldn't see. Proving her point, Karen pointed over the counter, to where Nightwing sat on the couch. He was staring intently at his phone, with blue headphones in his ears. Batgirl nodded in affirmation, and knealed down beside the group.

"So, what color are they?" She asked, slightly interested. It never really occurred to her what the team thought of them. By the time she joined the team, most of them knew her's and Dick's (along with Jason's and later Tim's) identities. Since then, however, multiple heroes have joined, being left in the dark of their real names and faces. At that, she internally laughed. Barbara would've bet Dick could hear exactly what they were saying.

Jaime interjected immediately, "They're green." He seemed sure of his statement, but Cassie shook her head furiously.

"No way! They're blue!"

"How do you know?"

"Because all hot guys have blue eyes!"

Jaime and Mal scoffed, and a buzzing came from Batgirl's pocket. She took out her phone, whilst the others were caught in the commotion, and smiled at her screen.

She quickly typed a reply. Then, within seconds, her phone buzzed again.

Batgirl heard Mal saying something, and she focused back on the conversation. "I'm telling you- they're hazel. He's got dark hair and tan skin- totally hazel! And, if not, at least some shade of brown."

"Babe, not all eye color depends on skin," Karen smirked at her boyfriend, folding her arms. "Besides, Cassie's right. They're blue."

"Ha! Girl power!"

"What? Karen, come on! I bet you my whole allowance Wing's eye's are hazel!"

Karen laughed. She ran her hand through Gar's hair, messing it up. "Sorry, Gar, but I don't want you to lose all your money."

"Guys- they're green!"

Batgirl's phone buzzed again. And again, her fingers quickly fumbled a reply, before she stuffed it into her pocket.

"Jaime, I love you, but Boss _clearly_ has blue eyes."

"Hazel! They're hazel!"

"Like, a baby blue. Or maybe a deep, ocean blue..."

"They are _green_. With a capital G- I'm positive they're green!"

"Or galaxy blue!"

"Oh snap, Cassie- they've _got_ to be galaxy blue!"

"They are not blue!"

Batgirl decided to intervene. "Well, what does the scarab say?"

Jaime didn't answer, and Mal smiled. "Come on, what's it say?"

"...Brown."

"Ha! Told you they were hazel!"

"Sorry, Gar, but hazel isn't brown!"

"Mal said they could be a shade of brown if not hazel!"

"Are we going to ignore the fact that Boss' eyes are blue and you're all wrong?"

"For the last time- they're green!"

"The scarab said they're brown!"

"You trust this backstabbing, _literally,_ piece of crap over _me_?"

Batgirl read the newest text, and chuckled quietly to herself, typing a response. Of course, Cassie overheard.

"Who're you texting?" She asked, gazing at the bat curiously. Following her gaze, the others immediately shut up and nodded.

"Yeah, what's- no, wait- w_ho's_ so funny at a time like this?"

Batgirl smirked at the five in front of her, casually retorting "Oh, only the victim of your little gossip jibberish.'"

They went silent.

"He thinks it's funny," she continued on. "And he says thank-you to Cassie for the compliments." Said Blonde promptly blushed, looking away.

"I thought he was listening to music!"

"I am!" A voice came from the couch, and they turned to see Nightwing still looking at his phone. Without removing his gaze, he advanced on. "But you are guys are so _freaking_ loud!" He typed something onto his screen, and then became quiet again.

Batgirl's phone buzzed, and she read the text.

"He says his eyes are blue."

"What?"

"KNEW IT."

"Galaxy blue?"

"He's got to be lying!"

"No, Cassie! My eye's aren't galaxy blue!" Batgirl rolled her eyes- she knew where this was going.

"What?"

"They're way prettier than that!" There it was.

"Shut up, Wing. I know where you live."

"So do I, BG. I live there."


	10. Drunk Dialing Roy

**Requested by: **ArtemisBAMF1218

* * *

"You know, Dinah, you have the prettiest-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg._

_"_Hold on a sec, babe," Dinah called, reaching into her purse for her phone. Oliver Queen sighed, frowning. They were totally having a moment! "It's Roy," she mouthed to her fiance. "Hello?"

_"Heeeeeeeeello. Dinah. Hi."_

"Hi, Roy."

_"You are veery- yup- very berry pretty. Like a bird. LIKE BLACK CANARY!"_

"Roy, are you drunk?"

_"How did you know? Are you psychic? Like Baaaatman and Robert?"_

"Robin."

_"Robert. I swear- he's next to me. Yup. HI ROB." _

"Did you get Dick drunk? He's fifteen! Roy Harper-"

_"No no no no he's okay. Okay. He's okay. Yup- and, and he's PRETTY."_

"Yeah, alright. I'm on a date. Goodnight, Roy."

_"THE NIGHT is forever YOOOOUNG."_

Dinah promptly put her phone back in the bag, raising an eyebrow at the blonde across from her. "You're son is drunk."

Oliver shrugged, "Tell me something I don't know." His date sighed, rolling her eyes playfully.

"He takes after you, you know."

"Yeah, well, I've learned from the bes-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg. _

Oliver sighed, reaching into his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he looked at the caller ID. "Crap- it's Roy." Dispite this, though, he answered the call.

"_HI OLIVER."_

"Hello."

_"D-DId you know Robert has blluueeeeeeeeee eyes. Like the sun."_

"One, the sun is yellow, and two- are you talking about Dick?"

_"No no his name is now ROBERT. Like, R-O-B-E-R-T. With a R and an Obert at the end."_

"Roy, I'm on a date."

_"WITH DINAH?"_

"Yes. We're _engaged_. Remember?"

_"CAN I BE THE BEST MAN AND- AAAAaaand Jade can be Maid of Honor?!"_

_"_Goodbye_._"

_"BYE."_

Oliver placed his phone right side up on the table, and asked the waiter near them for more wine. "I swear- that kid..."

"He's twenty one next week- I wouldn't say he's a kid anymore, babe."

"Yeah, well-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg._

Dinah relieved another call. After glancing at the caller ID, she sighed. "I'm not even going to answer him," she said, and after a few seconds passed and a couple by them sending her strange looks, she answered her phone.

"Roy."

_"DINAH I LOVE YOU."_

"What time is it?"

_"It's... it's," _a loud crashing noise could be heard, and Roy moaned through the speaker. _"My clock is soooooooo so so so far away it's like a thousand mil- IT'S TEN FOURTEEN."_

"Go to bed."

_"YOU'RE NOT MY MOM!"_

"Roy- go to bed or I'll slap Dick."

_"Noooooooo not DICKY. ROBERT IT'S OKAY DON'T CRY." _Dinah heard a faint whisper of_ "You monster," _and a small click, confirming he hung up.

"Ollie- you're son is hammered."

"I'm not surprised."

"Ugh. You idiot. Let's just, let's just try to have a nice, normal date for on-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg._

"Oh. My. God."

"It's Roy."

"Ollie, don't answer your phone."

"I'm not- I'm just hanging up."

And he did. Oliver clicked a button, ending the call before it even began, and Dinah started over.

"As I was saying, let's just try to have a decent dat-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg._

"I swear to freaking-"

"Dinah, I hung up. It's okay. Let's just have our normal date, like you sai-"

_Brrriiiinnnngggggggg._

Oliver answered.

_"HIIIIIIIIIIIII IT'S ME YOUR FAVORITEST OF ALL ROBERT SAYS HI TOO CUZ WE LOOOOOVE Y-"_

_Click._


	11. Nightwing's Bad Day

**Requested by: **No one.

**Notes: **Sorry it's been so long! There isn't really anything you need to know for this, except that it takes place in Season 2. This one's a little longer than normal, but only by a few hundred words.

* * *

When the undeniably annoying beeping began to fill his room, a log fretful groan escaped Dick's lips. As the dreaded noise grew louder and more persistent, the same thought made its way to his mind like it did every morning.

_Why the hell did he put his alarm clock across his room?_

Taking a moment to get the thick black comforter off his torso, he swung his legs to the edge of the bed, pushing himself off. The soft carpet tickled his feet, and a shiver trailed up his spine. Before he could take a step, though, black fogged Dick's vision, and he made a mental note to _actually_ have a proper meal today and stop the constant dizzy spells. After a few seconds, Dick's vision cleared, and he rubbed his eyes. With a glance around the darkly lit, messy room, he let out a soft sigh. Shuffling to his dresser, he gave an extremely peeved moan when the beeping grew louder.

Of course, in the dark room, there just happened to be a sharp... something, right where he stepped, and stabbed him right on the ball of his foot. When he jumped up and grabbed his foot, he ended up tripping over a shoes, and fell on his face. It hurt. And his alarm clock was still beeping.

"Alright, alright already!" he huffed out to the empty space around him, when he stood up, trudging across the room again. He then proceeded to ungracefully bang his hand against the alarm clock in an effort to make the noise stop. When it didn't, he remembered that _there was a button_ that made it stop, and he ended up pushing every one, because who remembers which was the stop and which was the snooze button? Desperately hoping he didn't push snooze, and that it wouldn't go off again while he was in the shower, Dick gave his bed a final look of yearning and desire, before stumbling over to the light switches.

Although it took him ten minutes, Dick found a pair of most-likely-clean pants on the couch, and started a hot shower.

Now, most would assume that to a guy like Dick Grayson, who had a busy job as a Junior Detective at the Bludhaven Police Department, and a tough night life fighting Bludhaven's criminals as vigilante Nightwing, and nice, steamy, relaxing shower would be the best part of his day. It wasn't.

With the scrapes, bruises, stab woulds, cuts, occasional gun shots, etc., hot water being poured over his exposed, worn and hurt skin was _anything _but fun. It was like, taking a shower after an intense sunburn. It hurt. So freaking much. So, no, the painful but necessary shower was not the best part of Dick Grayson's day. Most of the time, it involved hissing and a clenched jaw, because warm water trailing down onto a recent cut made grown men want to cry- but maybe that was just Dick.

Oh, and in case anyone wanted to know, his alarm clock went off again while he was in the shower.

After waiting in line for forever at Starbucks, and getting his coffee decaf instead of how he liked it, Dick came through the doors at Bludhaven Police Department fifteen minutes late, and heavy bags under his eyes. Before walking four steps, his boss came stomping up to him, with the same, angry, I-hate-everyone face she had plastered on twenty four seven.

"Grayson!"

"Yeah?"

"You're late."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I just-"

"Save it. You're job is important to your income, and you're an important asset to this job. We need detectives like you, but if you start showing up to the station late everyday, you're going to lose that job, and the force is going to lose you. You're late one more time, and that's the end." She continued on for a few more minutes, before eventually letting Dick off with a warning. From there, he continued to his desk, where he hopefully had a case he could go out to the field and check out.

But nooooope. That isn't what happen at all, because apparently everyone wanted him to have the_ crappiest _day ever_. _As he set his half-drunk coffee cup on his desk, a rookie cop came running up to him, with a pile of paper work at least nine thousand inches tall, with a sticky note that said 'Grayson' on top. The kid handed him the stack, and told him it was from his supervisor.

"What...?" He was at a loss for words. That was when his supervision came frolicking on by him, smirking like the devil he was.

"Paperwork, Grayson. You want to move up in the ranks? This is how you do it."

Dick then let out an incredibly long groan.

"You're staying here until you complete it. All of it."

Letting out yet another groan, Dick took the stack of papers, and sat down. He grabbed his _stupid freaking decaf coffee_, and picked up the first paper. Of course, it was only then Dick realized he'd left his car keys in his car, and he had no way of escape.

Thankfully, he was done by six o clock, and got cleared to go home an hour earlier than usual. Of course, though, getting his keys out of the car proved to be a problem, because after he had finally got his car open, he realized they weren't even in there. Then he spent a half hour searching the station, until he found them _in his cup of stupid freaking decaf coffee_.

After managing to get home, Dick collapsed on the couch, and woke up three hours later with a pounding headache. Now, Nightwing doesn't take sick days, so after changing into his costume, Dick continued to go out and patrol.

Around midnight, or so, it began to pour rain, and that was of course when a big gang robbery and hostage situation was taking place. It wasn't that big of a deal, the same thing happen maybe once a week, but getting his right side sliced by a knife wasn't too fun. The police came down, and the whole affair became a big deal, so taking down the gang and getting the hostages out took over an hour- which sucked. Attempting to bandage his wound had been a fail, considering the rain made every thing soaking wet, and he eventually ended patrol early, to go home an deal with it.

Nightwing got back a little bit before 2 am, which was actually pretty good. Taking a shower though, sucked. The hot water on his most recent wound hurt like Satan burning the entire planet, the only reason Dick didn't cry was because he was an man and men don't cry.

After ending his painful shower, Dick was suddenly hit by an extremely intense dizzy spell, with his vision turned completely black and he went blind for a few seconds. As he tried to step out of shower, he tripped and fell on the tiled floor. Breaking his fall with bruised knees and red palms, Dick later found out he chipped a tile. Then, once the pain subsided, Dick remembered he'd completely forgotten to eat that day, aside from his _stupid freaking decaf coffee_ and a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Although, too tired to move, he ended up laying on the bathroom floor for a while, before getting the stamina to stand up and go to his bed.

Dick was finally asleep by three am, and he was actually going to get three hours of sleep that night, which was the highlight of his past twenty four hours.

Of course, though, if anyone wanted to know, his alarm clock went off at four thirty in the morning.

And when the undeniably annoying beeping began to fill his room, a log fretful groan escaped Dick's lips. Exhausted and tired, he mentally beat himself up, because

_Why the hell did he put his alarm clock across his room?_


	12. If No One Else, You Matter to Me

**Notes: **I don't know why I was suddenly writing sad stuff, but it happens. So I'll take it. Here you go, from the depths of my own mind.

*A bit of OOC Impulse. And Brotherly!Nightwing!

* * *

"You're unusually quiet," said Nightwing.

Bart Allen didn't bother to look away from the spar happening in front of him. Jaime swung another fist, and Robin expertly dodged. "Hmm?"

"Well," Nightwing began rephrasing his words. "You're two best friends are fighting, and you haven't made a single noise since they started. Actually, you haven't made a single noise all through training. You haven't been yourself recently."

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Bart saw the team being as loud as always. Gar jumped up and down, shouting 'Knock him dead!' and Cassie was beside him, doing the same. They hadn't even batted an eye towards the quiet speedster, and Bart was grateful. Huddle together in a crowd, the rest of the team was far to into the spar to notice him. "And?"

Nightwing placed a gloved hand on his shoulder. Before, he'd been spectating the sparring match a few feet away from the team, when noticing something off. Looking around, he'd seen Bart standing away from the action, expressionless and uncaring towards the match. Seeing that, he walked over to the teen, unnoticed. "You alright?"

Bart continued to stare at the fight in front of him. Although a few inches behind the younger, Nightwing knew Bart was processing multiple answers inside his head. "...Yeah."

"Bart." Nightwing's tone was straightforward, and it was obvious he'd meant I-know-you're-lying-but-I'm-too-nice-to-say-so.

Bart raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"What's been bothering you? Really."

A few seconds passed, before a small sigh escaped through the speedster's lips. "I can't tell you. Future stuff."

"Okay," Though Nightwing didn't buy what he'd said, at all, the leader loosened his grip from Bart's shoulder. His fingers lingered for a moment, before he turned and began to walk back to the team. "You can trust me, Bart. I'll listen."

The rest of the training session went smoothly, and Bart remained in the background, unnoticed. Eventually, Nightwing called it a day, dismissing the tired heroes, and Bart was eternally grateful Wing hadn't called on him to spar. However, as he left the room, Nightwing sent him a look that clearly said they would talk later, in return for Bar skipping out on training.

Not wanting to go home, Bart decided to hide out in his room at the mountain. At first, he tried to distract himself with video games, but every time he picked up a controller, he lost interest and would set it back down. He didn't know what it was. Action, Survival, Horror- not a single genre or game he tried made him happy. Eventually, he gave up on video games and turned on some music. After half of half of his favorite album though, he opted to turn it off an lay down in silence.

Bart didn't fall asleep, like he'd hoped. So, he dealt with lying on top his covers, staring at the ceiling for God knows how long. After a while, he turned towards his game consol, but still felt the same disinterest as before. Truthfully, he didn't know why this was happening. Bart couldn't explain it; he was just so... tired. He was tired of it all. Lately, everything he'd taken interest in before seemed like a waste of time. His friends had become strangers. He'd been turning down Jaime and Tim's offers to hang out for weeks. Locking himself away, he'd exclude his existance.

Bart was... he was a liability. A burden. A worthless waste of space. He was crap. He was nothing.

Did he even matter anymore?

Honestly. Did he?

Sometime that afternoon, Jaime came over. A few days before, Bart had told him he wasn't feeling well the past couple of weeks, and Jaime had, thankfully, been giving him space. He left Bart alone when he asked, and it made him extremely relieved. He didn't want to sound rude, but to be honest, he just didn't want to be around people. Through the door, he asked if Bart want to go down to the beach him him and the rest of the team. Predictably, Bart denied the offer and Jaime left, leaving Bart alone again to the silence.

"I'll come back later to check up on you, alright esé?" Jaime had said out as he walked away.

Damn, he was a horrible friend. The last time he'd gone out with Blue was- a month? -ago. And he used to go to Wayne Manor every other day with Robin, but now... he hardly left his room.

Jaime must hate him. And who could blame him? Bart hated himself too.

A little over an hour later, there was another knock on his door, and startled Bart. He'd thought the team was at the beach. Had they not left yet?

"Look, Jaime- I don't want to go to the beach," he called out, not bother to open his eyes or get out of bed.

He heard the door slide open, and an all too familiar voice call out, "Not Jaime." Bart's eye shot open, and he sprung out of bed, startled. Nightwing stood in front of him, out of costume and dressed in his trademark hoodie and skinny jeans. The older hero shut the door behind him, before turning to Bart. "We never finished our conversation."

Bart sighed, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

Nightwing gave him a dubious look, and said "That's a pretty half-ass lie."

Bart replied defensively, "I'm not lying." yeah, he was. He was far from fine. Completely on the other end of the spectrum. He spent his days telling himself how stupid, and dumb, and pointless, and meaningless, and _worthless_ he was. He contemplated how he would die, and if he _should_ die. He planned out suicides. Because he didn't matter. Nothing did. But what would Nightwing think if Bart told him all that? He'd say Bart was a freak. And he was. He knew that.

"Look, Bart, I'm not here to chew you out. I just want to help." Nightwing moved to remove his glasses. "This isn't about Nightwing and Impulse- this is about Bart and Dick. _Let_ me help."

For a moment, Bart stared at the ground, before looking up and meeting Dick's gaze. He stared for a moment, before quietly asking, "...Why?"

It took a moment for Dick to choose his words. "Because, Bart. That's what families do." Hesitantly, Bart took a step towards his leader to the point where they were only a few feet away. He didn't say anything in response, so Dick took that as a cue to continue on.

"...Back when I was fourteen, the team went through a simulation. Failsafe. I had towatched my... my family die, right before my eyes. I watched them all die- I watched Bruce die. You already know that, though.

What you don't know, is that after the simulation, I was different. I was just so... tired. I'd wake up and want to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep forever. I didn't like pulling pranks anymore, and messing around with Wally. Heck, I didn't even want to jump around and perform acrobatics. It was like my entire life was just so... meaningless. I was sad, and I felt like living wasn't it- being Robin wasn't worth it. I tried to play if off, and make excuses about being sick, or stressed out from work. I lied to everyone, and told them I was perfectly fine.

This went on for about two months or so, before Wally started to notice that I wasn't actually busy or sick. He confronted me one day when I was alone, but didn't say anything about me lying. He just... he just walked up to me and gave me this hug. It was warm, and nice, and he just kept repeating how much he loved me and how important I was to him. He was crying and he told me he loved me, and that I was his best friend in the entire freaking universe. He... he told me that I mattered."

Dick paused, staring at Bart for a few seconds. The younger teen was trembling now, and he walked the rest of the distance, wrapping his arms around the speedster. He whispered slowly, and softly. Dick's voice rang against his neck, sending shivers down his spine as he said the words Bart so desperately had needed to hear. "Bart. You matter. You matter to the entire world, and if you don't believe that, than please just know that you matter to me. You matter to me, because I love you Bart. I love you and I care about you, please understand that."

It was then Bart wrapped his arms around Dick's torso, burying his head against his chest. He began to quietly cry, until the sobs grew louder, and his tears soaked through Dick's hoodie. If it bothered him, Dick hadn't said anything to make Bart stop. They stood there, in Bart's room, alone in the mountain and listened to Bart's crying beating against the silence. _You Matter._

They were the two simple words that cut through the pain and made his heart stop.

He was important.

He was loved.

Bart Allen had been fighting a losing battle, trying to convince himself that he was more than just a liability. More than just a burden, more than just a unimportant annoyance. Bart had been searching for a way to convince himself he was more than that- but how could he believe himself. He'd been waiting for weeks to hear someone tell him that. Tell him those words.

He'd been waiting to be recused from this pain that kept building up inside him, telling him he was nothing.

He'd been trying, he had, but nothing worked, and he just needed to hear those two freaking words. Two words that made the pain slipped away and made him cry in relief. Two words that made him feel like he _was_ more than just a waste of time.

And those moments when he stood there in his room, sobbing into Nightwing's jacket- those where the best moments he'd had in a while.

Because he _mattered._

Fin.

* * *

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I wrote it in about an hour, and was coming up with the 'plot' as I went. I don't know if this is a hit or miss, but thank you for reading, whether you like it or not.


	13. Simon Says is a Kid's Game - Part 1

**Requested by: **mrdbznarutofan

**Notes: **Time-Skip Spitfire. Wally and Artemis are both 18, and just moved in together.

* * *

"So, what are we here for again?" Artemis asked, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear.

This made Wally sigh. _Of course. _Of course Artemis hadn't been listening to him when he told her about the show. She always lost interest whenever he told her things, whether it was about his school drama or a funny joke. After three years of dating, she'd grown pretty used to his constant, annoyingvoice and learned to zone out most of what he said. Not that Wally blamed her, though. Most of what he said was pointless. But he'd waved the tickets right in front of her face! Sat right next to her and explained what they were doing even, but she was too occupied by sharpening her arrows to listen.

Artemis stood in front of him in a long grey winter jacket with her hair down. It was the beginning of December, and the show they were going to wasn't entirely indoors. It was under a big, massive, white tent. She had her arms wrapped around her, and was switching balance between her right and left feet in an obvious effort to keep warm. Wally _told_ her to dress warm. Of course, she hadn't listened again, and now he was dating Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer.

His girlfriend had a serious listening problem.

"I told you, 'Mis. We're going to see some hypnotist lady," Wally explained.

"Oh, alr-" Her eyes widened. "What?"

Wally inhaled air through his teeth, meeting her gaze sheepishly. His right hand instinctively reached for the back of his next while his left fumbled with the tickets in his coat pocket. "We're going to see some hypnotist lady," he slowly repeated, and pointed over his shoulder to a big white tent. "In there."

Artemis threw her arms out. "Are you kidding me!?" She asked, exasperated.

"...No?" What was wrong with all this?

"Wally!"

"What?!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Oh yeah, she looked pissed. "You said we we're going to do something fun- not this!_" _Her hands motioned to the tent behind him.

"What's wrong with this? And I _did, _Artemis. You were too busy sharpening arrows to even glance in my direction," Wally explained, gesturing with his arms to emphasize. "You _never_ listen to me."

His girlfriend was quiet for a moment, probably digging through her mind and briefly remembering the conversation. After a moment, she looked at the ground, a blush spreading to her cheeks. "...Oh. Wally, I'm sor-"

"It's fine, babe. 'Cmon," he brushed her off, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the tent. "Let's just have a good time, alright?"

"Yeah, okay."

They walked together for a couple seconds as they came up to the entrance, before Wally heard Artemis mumble under her breath, "_Freaking fake hypnotist._"

The show started around ten minutes or so after they found their seats. Thankfully, they weren't wooden beaches, but rather similar to movie theater seats, connected and roomy. Everyone else gathered in, mostly newlyweds and small families, and the spacious room got rather full. He and Artemis had chairs towards the middle of their section, a few rows back from the stage.

Once the show began, the lights at the stage dimmed down, and the entrance to the tent -two white tent strips folded out- closed. Dramatic fog rolled in from the ends of the stage, and around the floor in the first and second rows. From the back of their section, Wally heard a young boy whine because of the fog, and sighed. The kid's whining was too much on his sensitive ears, and he wasn't here to listen to a bunch of annoying little kids. Artemis must've gotten annoyed too, judging from the sharp intake of breath when the boy's whining got louder. Eventually, the parents took the kid out, and all was quiet again, although the misty fog had sort of lost it's effect.

Loud, droning music starting playing from speakers around the tent, and a distinct clicking could be heard from the stage. The room was still dark through all this, but then the stage lights flickered on. As the music grew louder, and the clicking grew more constant, a sudden thunderous boom crackled through the audience, rolling from to the back of the tent in a dark, luminous manner. The fog, low and hazy, had traveled back to Wally and Artemis's row, brushing across their feet. both he and Artemis shuffled their feet, shifting the fog _away_ from them. While all this took place, and the effects were in full throttle, Artemis leaned over Wally, placing a hand on his forearm.

"Where'd you here about this chick?" She whispered.

Wally's eyes never left the stage, but he tilted his head so his lips were a bit closer to her ears. "Zatanna," he replied as quiet as she had. Artemis nodded, and moved her hand back the her lap, refocusing on the front of the room.

And then, everything stopped.

Well, everything but the fog. The booming thunder and loud music simultaneously ceased, along with the weird clicking noise. Wally, who'd been completely focused on the stage and everything happened around him, flinched and heard Artemis suppress a snicker.

A lady walked out to the center of the stage, and banged her cane on the hard wood below her. When Wally saw this, he was pretty sure his eyes grew at least four sizes. _This _was the hypnotist? This... this _old woman_? She resembled nothing of what came to mind when someone said 'Hypnotist' at all. She was short, and had stringy grey hair pulled back in an old fashioned bun. A pair of thin glasses sat on the tip of her pointy white nose, and an old assortment of rings and bracelets were on her fingers and wrists. There were deep bags and wrinkles scattered across her face, and she wore an hideously ugly floral dress. Honestly, it was horrible. The dress was, with out a doubt, the worst part. It wasn't a pretty flowery dress that most teenage girls wear, (He would know- Megan had taken a liking to them.) but more of an old lady-ish, bad color scheme, long, shapeless, grandma dress. It was wretched. Ugh.

She opened her mouth, and spoke with a raspy, loud, ear-splitting voice. "I... am..." She paused for a few seconds, as the crowd around them took great big inhales, "Gretchen the Great!"

Wally almost groaned, and he was pretty sure Artemis did. Really? He paid forty dollars for this?! Gretchen the Great? The lady continued to talk for a while, but Wally zoned it out.

"This isn't a magic show, Houdini," he mumbled, directing it to his girlfriend. He heard Artemis stifle a laugh.

"Honestly- this sucks," she replied. "And I should know, for I am- Artemis the Amazing!" Both of them giggled, and tried to keep their voices down.

"You!" Gretchen yelled, and pointed her cane at Artemis. The duo jerked towards her, shocked. Within seconds, most of the audience were staring at them. It was a bit awkward, and Wally knew Artemis must've been embarrassed beyond compare. Getting called out for insulting the performer? Ouch. "I want you," the old lady started, with her annoying voice, "To come up here... and be my volunteer."

Wait- what? Wally shot his head towards Artemis, who looked back with wide eyes under raised eyebrows. Was she in trouble? Artemis pointed a finger to her chest, silently asking 'Me?' and watched as the hypnotist nodded.

"Yes, young lady. I want you."

Artemis shot Wally one last glance, before awkwardly standing up and shuffling through their row past the surprised couples and children. It took a moment for her to walk to the stage, and find where the steps were. As she walked up, Wally was certain every eye was on her. Slowly, Artemis made her way to the middle of the stage. Gretchen urged her to take of the grey winter jacket, and Artemis, weirded out by the situation, complied. She tossed the jacket to the edge of the stage, and rubbed her hands against the front of her tights. Even in the tent, it was cold, and Wally knew she must've been freezing. Luckily, though, Artemis was wearing this long sleeved black shirt she got at the mall last week.

"Know, missy," Gretchen made her way over to Artemis, dragging her cane behind her on the ground. "What's your name?"

Artemis's eyes locket with Wally's, and he slowly nodded, encouraging her on. "Artemis," she said boldly. No way was she going to be humiliated! She was going to take this like a man, and be the brave heroin she was.

Gretchen nodded, and walked off stage momentarily, returning with a plastic chair. She put the chair next to Artemis, and told her to take a seat. Artemis, not being one to a coward, complied. Gretchen then began tapping her cane on the floor, shouting out.

"Now! By the powers within me, I shall hypnotize you, to do my bidding. I command you, Artemis! I command you! To sleep!" Gretchen flung her cane to the back of the stage, and threw her hands above her head. She was trembling and visibly shaking, as continued to shout 'Go to sleep! Go! To! Sleep!'

Wally had been too occupied from watching the old woman wobble back and forth, shouting louder than an elderly woman should to notice that Artemis's head had dropped to her chest. His eyes grazed over to his girlfriend, and when he saw her, slumped over in the chair, he did a massive double take. His fists made their way to the arm rest on either side of him, and his hands clutched them tightly. His posture straightened, and he leaned towards the stage, ready to jump up and run if this meant trouble.

Gretchen continued to shout for a minute, before stopping her movements all together. She reached into some hidden pocket in her repulsive grandma dress, and pulled out a golden pocket watch on a long, looped chain. She brought the chain up to Artemis's face, and let it sway back and forth in front of the unconscious girl as she started to say her next words. Her voice had changed from an raspy ear-piercing, and more to a low, but strong sound- one that Wally was sure his grandpa would have in the bass section of his church choir. If his grandpa was religious. And if he had a low voice (which he didn't).

"I have you in a deep sleep, Artemis. I have you in a deep, deep sleep. You can't awake- you won't awake," Wally's grip tightened, "Unless I say so. Now, I'm going to say a sentence, and you will listen. Simon says... Did you hear? Simon. Says, Artemis. You can only awake if I say 'Simon says,' followed by an order to do so. Understood? Good. You will continue to follow instructions proceeded by the phrase 'Simon says,' understood? Good. I am going to repeat myself. I am going to repeat myself. Listen closely. Listen closely. You will continue to follow instructions proceeded by the phrase 'Simon says,' understood? You will continue to follow instructions proceeded by the phrase 'Simon says,' understood? Simon says... _wake up._"

Artemis's head shot up. Her arms leaped for the armrests, as she grasped for breath and inhaled deeply. The were beads of sweat all around her red face, and her grey eyes were wide open. She looked... scared? Gretchen said something else, like 'Simon says, go back to your seat,' but Wally didn't pay attention. He stared at his girlfriend who looked confused, and scared, and... God he wanted to run up there and hold her. He wanted to cradle the beautiful archer in his arms, and whisper _You're alright. I've got you._

Artemis walked down the steps, staring straight ahead. As soon as she reached Wally and her seat, some weird dude announced an intermission. Wally sighed, standing up and wrapping his arms around Artemis. They stayed there for a while, waiting for others to leave. Once everyone had exited the tent, save them and a couple making out in the farthest back row, Wally grabbed Artemis's wrist.

"What happened?"

She looked to the ground, and shook her head. "I - I have _no _clue. One minute I'm being humiliated on stage, and the next I'm in black. There was black everywhere. And, and I couldn't move. I just sitting there, in darkness, and I couldn't do a thing about it. I couldn't see _anything. _It was terrifying. Then the lady was talking, saying random crap about whatever. I couldn't breathe, and I was _so_ tired. I just wanted to wake up, I just wanted to leave so freaking badly. And then- boom I'm awake. The lady goes, 'Simon says wake up,' and I'm awake. Alive. Staring at the light. What the hell?"

Wally went in for another hug. "I'm sorry, 'Mis. Why don't we just go home, alright?" He said, rubbing her back. Artemis nodded, and the two left before the second part of the show could ever begin.

He had no clue what that freak woman did, but he didn't like it.

* * *

To Be Continued.

Yup- definitely got carried away. These are supposed to be _drabbles_, not _entire freaking novels._

And before I knew it, I had written over two thousand words. I've decided just to make this two separate parts, instead of one, long, three to four thousand words chapter. Also, I promised I'd get this out yesterday. So I;m just ending it here and posting.

Thanks for reading, it means a lot! Seriously, I'd be no where without you guys. You guys and your reviews, favorites, and follows mean the flippen world to me, so thanks. :)


	14. (How Not to) Cry with Style

**Requested by:** No one.

**Notes: ***Yay! An update! Don't worry, I'm working on Part 2 of the last chapter. I accidentally deleted the document, and I was super discouraged about it, so I didn't write anything for a couple weeks. I'll get it out there, don't worry!

*****Also, if you read Universe (another fic of mine) you'll notice a similar style with the way I wrote this and that. I purposely didn't use the main character's name (Dick Grayson) in order to give him more of a de-humanized affect. Wally's name is used, and Roy and Artemis are mentioned once, but when it comes to Dick, I used 'he,' and 'his' instead of his name. Hopefully it gives of the effect I intended it to, but I'm sorry if it's confusing.

* * *

He never learned to cry with style, like in the movies. He didn't know how to make the tears slide gracefully down his cheeks, and to have his eyelashes glisten with teardrops. To be honest, he didn't cry that often, anyway. His lack of experience never tought him how to look put together and cry at the same time, and he could count on one hand the amount of time he'd actually broken down and sobbed. But as his throat screamed at him to stop coughing up dry air and his head pounded violently behind his puffy eyes, he wished he had.

He'd didn't react at first. It just sort of... happened. One second, Wally was there. The next, Jaime was shouting something about slowing down, and suddenly, he was gone. It was quick, a bit too quick for him even after all those years getting used to things happening in 'flashes.' Dick remembered

He hadn't cried this hard since his parent's death. Not even for Jason.

He hadn't cried when it happened.

He didn't cry at the funeral. He didn't even _go_ to the funeral.

So why now?

Why now, of all times, twenty three days after the incident, was he sobbing his heart out?

His day started out simple enough. It was the same old routine he'd adapted in an attempt to cope. Wake up. Train. Go to the police station; do some work. Train. Eat food. Train. It was the simplicity of it all the must've gotten to him, right? He wasn't busy enough to distract himself from Wally. If he'd done more- trained harder, _something, _he wouldn't be curled around himself on the Watchtower's training mat, crying violently into his knees.

It happened very suddenly, his break down. At first, he'd been at the Watchtower, training.

* * *

"_Damn_."

He looked back to the punching bag, and thankfully only saw a thing, wet smear of his blood against the fabric. Easy fix. Using his forearm, Nightwing smudged away the smear until it was no more, and reached up to unclasp the bag from it's hook.

Looking down at his hands, he sighed, although he wasn't really sure why. Bruised, red knuckles weren't much of a surprise. The raw, peeling skin coated the bright tips of his knuckles and green, turning-purple surrounding area. The veins along his back hand popped out, and the pale skin contrasted with it, casting small shadows by the veins. Deep crimson specklets and drops were all over his fingers, but the wrist region and behind the pooped veins were relatively clean. Blood. One had to hate it.

Reaching into his back sweatpants pocket, he pulled out a dwindling roll of gauze. Uncaringly, he wrapped it around his hands quickly, using his teeth to ripped the fabric. This entire process took less than a minute, and after stuffing the gauze back in his pocket, he raised his fists again.

He could go for another hour.

And, he did.

His hands were beaten, and he'd be sore after patrol later, but it honestly didn't matter to him. Training took his mind off of darker places. Darker thoughts. Wally.

Wally's death was only four days ago, and he really didn't want to think about it. Everyone had cried, and he didn't know why. Sure, when Artemis came confiding in him, he held her tightly and let her sob into his shoulder, and he was there for Roy, who was on the verge of relapsing back to drugs. When the team needed him, he was there. Maybe he wasn't officially team leader anymore, but he was there for people. Everyone cried. Everyone- except him. He didn't really think about it that much, and when he did, training himself to exhaustion was a nice distraction.

This routine began to shape itself, and soon enough, it had embedded itself into his everyday life.

He trained like crazy.

He pushed himself to physical, almost unbearable pain, and trained.

* * *

Training had worked. It always worked. It helped him release the pent up stress and anxiety that came from Wally's death, and act perfectly fine around others.

Why hadn't it worked?

Why was he crying? He hated crying.

* * *

It was July. Almost a month after they saved the world, Wally died, and he left the team.

He was training, swinging from bar to bar with every fiber he had.

He was _fighting._

He swung harder- and it hurt. But he trained. His body hurt, and he wanted to pass out, and he trained. 'Don't stop. Don't give up. You give up and that's it. You're done.' Slowly, he felt his breath rate increase, until he was almost sure he was hyperventilating. He didn't stop to catch his breath, though. He couldn't stop. He had to work harder. He had to _fight_.

But then- he slipped.

His left brushed against the bar; he felt the air pass through the gaps between his fingers as he outstretched them. _Reach farther._

And then he was falling.

It happened in almost slow motion.

Before anything else, he saw the dark grey ceiling get farther away, and he noticed the air fly past his body. For reasons unknown, he couldn't turn his torso, and his legs were stuck stiff.

He was falling.

Expecting to see glimpses of his parents, he readied himself. He waited to hear the desperate cry come from his mother's mouth as she and his father fell from the trapeze to their deaths.

"_Dick!"_

But... the flashbacks never came.

Instead, he saw a beautiful red head begin to fade away. The soft smile Wally threw to him that screamed, 'I'm sorry,' moments before he disapperread implanted itself in his vision. Three bright streaks spinning around in a circle suddenly became two, and he was gone. Wally was gone.

He was falling, and he watched as Wally died, too.

His body hit the mat with a loud thud, and he heard himself gasp. He hadn't fallen like that in a while- and it hurt. And then, he didn't know why, but the pain grew. The pain got worse and worse, and suddenly he was curled around himself. Bruised, beaten arms wrapped around his shins, and his knees stopped inches away from his face.

He began to cry.

First- a small whimper. And then, he was sobbing, because it _hurt. _

God, it hurt so badly. It hurt so much; he just wanted it to _stop_. He wanted to make it go away. But he couldn't. So, he laid there and cried. No, it wasn't the physical pain- he couldn't care less about that. It was the memory of Wally fading away, dying, because of him. It was the thought that Wally was _dead_.

It took him twenty three days to admit that to himself.

It took him twenty three damn days to stop pretending he could get past it, to stop acting like it didn't bother him, to stop denying the fact that his best friend was dead.

He'd be lying if he didn't say he'd go to hell and back to make the pain go away. See, he had never learned to cry with style, and so he wasn't very skilled at making himself look more put together than he was. His face was red, and his cheeks shone with tear tracks. Crying sucked, and he wanted nothing more than to stop. But he couldn't. He couldn't make the tears slow down, or the choked sobs quiet down.

After shoving it away for twenty three goddamn days, everything started to surface. Everything- every ignored comment, every 'I'm fine,' every second of denial, it all shot up like a bottle rocket, and now there he was, lying on the Watchtower floor crying like a child.

Dick Grayson had never learned to cry with style. To be honest, he didn't cry that often, anyway. His lack of experience never tought him how to look put together and cry at the same time, and he could count on one hand the amount of time he'd actually broken down and sobbed.

This was one of those times, and he mentally added 'Wally West' to the list.


	15. Almost-But-Not-Quite-Gay Flirting

**Requested by:** No one

**Notes: **This isn't birdflash, or it wasn't meant to be, although it totally is- I'm not sure. Just a lot of bromance. Take it how you want. :) Also, this isn't myy best work. It kind of sucks; I was having a really hard time with the wording. Oh well. I hope you like it, anyway.

* * *

"Morning, beautiful," Wally said, high-fiving Robin as the younger teen entered the kitchen. It was a Saturday, and like most weekends, Robin stayed the night at the mountain. Behind his glasses, Robin rolled his eyes.

"Sup, _freshness,_" he replied sarcastically.

"Aw, you're making me blush," Wally shot back, and opened the fridge. Robin took a seat at the island across from the red head.

"Mhmm. Hey, Walls, toss me an apple." Proceeding to do so, the two teens made eye contact as Wally threw the apple to Robin's hands.

Smirking, Wally replied, "Anything for you, _princess._"

It was then Artemis walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"I'm not even going to say anything," she mumbled, taking a seat next to Robin.

The younger teen turned towards her, and smiled slyly. "I was just asking Hot Stuff here for an apple," Robin explained, and held up the apple in his right hand to clarify.

Wally sped up to the island, leaning over to put his head next to Artemis' and Robin's. "And I," he pointed to his chest, "being the amazing bro I am, tossed him one."

"Thanks, _babe,_" Robin said.

Wally winked dramatically, and tossed his hair. "Anytime, Boy Wonderful."

After his comment, there was a brief and somewhat-awkward silence, considering Wally stayed there, leaned over the island, for a moment too long. Artemis looked to his side, internally smirking at the way Wally's butt was sticking up. Instead, she rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her untamed bed head hair. It was too early for this crap. Oh well, she might as well make the best of it.

"I'd say this is gay, if it weren't for Wally's terrible flirting skills," she said bluntly, cutting into the silence with a battle axe.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"Excuse me?!" The speedster was instantaneously standing straight up, hands on hips, jaw hanging open and eyebrows raised high. "I'm the best freaking flirter I know!" He cried out.

Robin, who was getting the jist of Artemis' intentions, cut in. "Well..."

"Robin!" Wally shot the acrobat a look. "You agree with that witch?"

Artemis gasped. "Shut up, Baytwach!"

Robin shrugged, ignoring Artemis' comment. "She's got a point, Walls."

"No!" He half-screamed, with his voice cracking towards the end. "No, she does not '_have a point'_!"

"Yeah, I do."

"If anyone is a terrible flirter, it's Rob. He's like, fourteen! He's go no experience with the ladies!"

Artemis instantly shot back (because she'd been waiting to use this one for a week, now). "And you do?"

"Hell yes I do!"

"Kissing you're mom on the cheek doesn't count," she added as Wally shot his arms out.

"What. The. Hell?!"

Besides her, Robin smirked and turned her way. "Please, Artemis. Even his mom wouldn't go near those lips."

"Robin!" Wally screamed and mentally thanked God for Superboy's sound proofed room, because holy crap, his voice was loud. "Bro code!"

"Sorry, but that vanished the second you called your bro 'beautiful.'"

"What?"

Wally slammed the refrigerator door behind him shut, letting out a mix of what was probably a high-pitched scream, and an annoyed groan.

Robin looked towards the blonde beside him, and flashed a toothy grin. "Sorry about him, honey. He's a bit pyscho."

Wally's stream of... something, immediately ceased as he turned towards his friend. "Dude, what?"

Artemis winked dramatically, imitating Wally's earlier actions. "No worries, dear."

"WHAT?"

"Wanna ditch, beautiful?"

"Of course, handsome."

The two stood, leaving behind a shocked, and slightly confused Wally standing in the kitchen. Robin and Artemis proceeded to walked out of the room.

It took ten seconds for Robin's head to peak around the door frame.

"I almost forgot- I don't want this apple anymore. Here you go, babe." Robin tossed the apple across the room, and Wally, who's subconscious kicked in, caught it. He stood frozen for a moment, contemplating what the freaking heck just happened, while Robin waited for the red head to come to his senses.

After a few moments, Wally came back to reality. He stared at hid supposed 'best friend' fora moment, before smirking. "Thanks, _Angel_."

"Anytime, Sexy," Robin replied smoothly.

"Later, Sugar!" Wally said, and winked. Robin rolled his eyes (not that Wally would see behind his glasses) at the failed attempt and walked away again. At least he tried, right?

After a few seconds, Robin yelled out to him from down the hall. "Your flirting skills still suck, though!"

"Dude!"


	16. Bart's Adventurous Adventure in Fandoms

**Notes:** A bunch of references to Sherlock and various fandoms. You may or may not understand them all. Either way, I had some fun with this one. it isn't very well written; the sentences aren't flowing as well as I'd hoped, but I really hope you enjoy it. :)

* * *

When Bart came running into Mount Justice Friday night, he had planned on an video game all-nighter with Jaime and Tim. What he hadn't planned on, was an all-nighter with Cassie and Barbara.

Seriously. Past all that tough talk and superior fighting skills, those two were freaking _crazy. _So, when Bart crashed their mini marathon by running through the common room, their crazy little minds decided it was an excellent idea to kidnap him and force him to join said mini marathon.

He hadn't mean to walk in on them bawling their eyes out over Sherlock Holmes! (Who, in Bart's honest opinion, was far better looking than the one depicted in the original books Tim had shown him two weeks prior.) However, they didn't seem to care about his excuses, and trapped him on the couch between them, with a tub of triple fudge chocolate chunk ice cream on his lap anyway. Okay, well, they didn't _trap_ him. Considering he'd mastered the 'vibrating through solid objects' technique, Bart could've gotten up and left Cassie and Barbara to find Jaime and Tim anytime he wanted. But just as he readied himself to do that, he noticed a rather good looking fellow on Cassie's shirt.

"Who's that?" Bart asked her, just seconds after they placed him between the two, and nudged his head towards her tee.

"Who's that? _Who's_ _that_?" Cassie grabbed the hem of her shirt and stretched it out in front of them._ "_That's mother freaking Dean Winchester, idiot- only the sexiest hunter alive."

"Hunter?"

Besides him, Barbara groaned, and Bart whipped his head to face her.

"_Bart!_"

"What?"

"Do you live under a rock?!"

"...No...?"

Immediately after his words, Barbara grabbed Cassie's bicep, and pulled the teen off the couch. She then pointed a finger at Bart, telling him to stay put, and walked to the corner of the room with Cas. Whispering quietly, they cast occasional glances towards Bart, who strained his ears in an attempt to listen.

"Guys? You coming back?" He asked after a full minute passed. Ten seconds later, they simultaneously turned towards Bart.

"Bart?" Cassie asked.

"Yeah?"

Putting her hands on her hips, Cassie frowned. After a moment, she replied, "Do you have Netflix?"

"Uhm, yeah?"

"Good." As Barbara and Cassie began walking towards the couch, Bart looked at them confusedly.

"Wait, why?"

Barbara stared him dead in the eyes, and with a complete straight face, said, "You're going to need it after tonight."

Needless to say, Bart ended up watching Sherlock until five am, after he passed out onto Cassie (who had fallen asleep an hour earlier). When Nightwing came walking into the common room Saturday morning and saw the three heroes passed out, he groaned quite loudly.

"_Seriously?!_"

Barbara bolted upwards, awake, and shoved Bart in the process, who then in turn smacked his head on Cassie's chin. Rubbing his head, Bart turned towards the red head beside him.

"What the heck, BG? So not crash!"

"Batgirl," Nightwing's voice came from behind Bart, causing two heads (because Barbara somehow knew he was there already) to whip around in that direction.

"Boss, hey!" Cassie called out, with Nightwing half ignoring the comment and waving in her direction.

"Batgirl, what did you do?"

"You mean besides convert Bart?"

"'Convert?' More like steal his freaking life away!"

"Relax, it's not that bad!"

"He's exactly like Wally, BG! You know what happened to Wally!"

Bart raised an eyebrow, and interjected. "Uhm, what happened to Wally?" He asked, but his question was shrugged off.

"He's going to 'magically' find Tumblr and Fanfiction and then he's going to get into BBC and Supernatural. He'll lock himself away for two weeks while he binge watches _every damn episode. _He's going to start shipping gay couples left and right, all because of you!"

"It's not like with Wally, Dick!"

Cassie frowned. "Hey, don't call Wing a dick!"

Barbara face palmed. "I wasn't- actually, yeah, I was. Bart's fine, Wing."

"I'm telling you, it's going to be exactly like Wally. Before we know it, he's going to come to the cave in Hot Topic merch shouting references only like four people, us included, will understand!"

Right now, Barbara and Dick (or Batgirl and Nightwing, considering Bart kept forgetting that Cassie didn't know their names) were standing inches away, glaring at the other. There was visible tension, and Bart had to think quickly to resolve all this.

"Hey, guys?" He asked.

"What?"

"I'm- I'm confused. What happened to Wally?"

Nightwing and Batgirl tossed side glances at each other, before Nightwing sighed and tossed his head back. "When I was fourteen, I thought it would be a good idea to invite Wally over to have a Doctor Who marathon with me and BG. He'd never seen it, and he liked season 1 and 2 so much he locked himself in his room to watched every other episode," he explained.

"The next time we saw him was literally three weeks later," Barbara cut in. "He was wearing a TARDIS hoodie and came in shouting out dumb references that only we understood. He asked us for good fanfictions to read."

"So?"

"_So?_ So, Bart, Wally had been reading fanfics non stop for days! We created a monster! He knew every detail about Tumblr and had a list of ships! He called me Castiel and himself Dean for weeks! We're were f_reaking destiel_!" Nightwing threw his arms over his head to showcase his frustration, as Cassie squeaked.

"OTP!"

"Ships?"

"Yeah. Y'know, like when-" Before Barbara could finish her sentence, Nightwing had a gloved hand clasped over her mouth.

"We are not getting him into this," he hissed. "I'm perfectly okay without another Wally shouting out ship names like 'Dibs,' and 'Wonderbird,' and 'Birdflash' every twelve minutes, okay? We are not getting him into to any of this, whatsoever."

Barbara was silent, and after fifteen seconds, Nightwing slowly removed his hand. She stared him down, before smirking. "We already did," she whispered.

"_What?!"_

"We stayed up all night watching Sherlock, and Bart loved it."

"Bart!" Nightwing cried.

"What?"

"You watched Sherlock?!"

"Oh my god, yes! It was freaking amazing! And I don't know if you're into that stuff or whatever, but John and Sherlock are so in love it's insane!"

Cassie bobbed her head excitedy. "I know right, and when Sherlock was all, '_This is my note,' _it was totally a love confession!"

"And I can't believe-"

"BATGIRL!"

"Relax! It'll all turn out fine!"

"No, it won't! He's going to become a nocturnal tumblr-obsessed fangirl like us!"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Babs, we're freaking nocturnal tumblr-obsessed fangirls! Everything is wrong with that!"

"Hey, guys? I don't mean to ruin the mood or anything, but... what exactly is fanfiction?"

The arguing teens, plus Cassie, immediately turned towards Bart. "You don't know?"

"Not really...?"

Within seconds, Cassie was standing in front of the speedster with an opened laptop. As she began to type on the keyboard, she talked aloud. "It's this _amazing_ website where you can read like anything you want to. It's like, you're the author, and you write stories for characters that already exist. There's this really cool Harry Potter fic I totally love and would forever recommend, but I don't know if you're a book dude or not. There's also this one Supernatural fic that I've read at least a gazillion times- but I'm pretty sure you've only seen Sherlock. There is this one super amazing Sherlock fic that I just know you'd just _love_, so we could totally start with that."

"BATGIRL!"

"It's fine! He'll be fine!"

"Wait- what do I do if I want to write one?"

"BATGIRL!"

"...Yeah, I lied. He's _totally_ Wally."


	17. Bart's Adventurous Adventure in BANDoms

**Notes: I don't know Bart's birthday. If you do, (or at least the month) I'd be really happy if you'd share it with me! I spent twenty freaking minutes going through wiki pages on google trying to figure it out. **

**Also, the songs mentioned in this are: ****"In the End" - Black Veil Brides; "Lost it All" - Black Veil Brides. ****"I'm Not Okay" - My Chemical Romance; "I Don't Care" - Fall Out Boy; "One Step Closer" - Linkin Park; "Girls/Girls/Boys" - Panic! at the Disco; and "Faint" - Linkin Park.**

* * *

When Tim, Jaime, and Garfield, who were in Mount Justice's common area, playing Friday video game night, first noticed that Bart wasn't with them, they shrugged it off.

An hour later they started to get worried.

"I know he's a speedster and all, but he usually isn't this late," Jaime said, pausing the game. "You think he forgot?"

Robin shook his head, "No- Bart's terrible with remembering crap, but he'd never forgot a game night."

"You think he's in trouble?" Gar added in, and Robin shook his head again.

"He's alright, he was at the mountain earlier today, binge watching with Cassie and Batgirl. He's probably sleep deprived, and passed out at home or something."

Jaime sighed. "Again?"

Gar frowned, "Again?" He asked.

"A while ago, Batgirl and Cass got Bart into fandoms," Robin explained. "Now, they marathon all the time."

"_All _the time," Jaime added. "Dude's always busy with his dumb fangirl stuff."

"Really?"

"Yeah- it's pretty bad. He's always running around the mountain screaming 'Johnlock,' and 'Birdflash,' and 'Wonderbeetle,' and all that," Robin said.

"It's so annoying! Like, _chill, hermano_. We get it. You ship Nightwing and Wally- but you don't need to run around screaming Birdflash! And when he-" Jaime was cut off by Gar.

"Wait- that's what that means?"

"What means?"

"Birdflash!"

"Gar- you didn't know that?"

"No! I thought he was, I don't know, shouting possible hero name changes." As he spoke, Gar recieved a dumb look from both older heroes.

"Really?"

"...Yeah?"

"It's fine. At least he hasn't tried to convert you. The last thing we need is every male here going off about freaking fanfiction; we've got enough of that," Robin sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "_Way_ too much of that."

"I thought it was only Bart?" Jaime asked, confused.

"God no- Nightwing's the biggest freaking fanboy I know, and then there's Wally, who's just as bad, and now we've got Bart. Up at the tower, Clark, Hal, and Barry are some pretty massive comic book dorks, too."

"_No way!_"

"Bart could be a lot worse," Robin went on.

Jaime snorted, and Gar laughed. "I doubt it."

"You think it stops with TV shows? A few years back, Wing and BG got Wally into music and band fandoms, after his Doctor Who phrase wore off a bit. They quoted nothing but song lyrics for _three. damn. weeks. Straight. _'Hey Wing, are you okay? That looks like it hurt.' 'Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say!' Like, no I just an an straight answer! And then I'd say, 'Hey Wally, nice shirt!' and he'd sing 'I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me,' in his dumb, stupid voice!"

"Rob, I'd feel empathetic, but I have no clue what those things you just said are from," Jaime said, and Gar nodded with him.

Robin sighed. "Look, I'm just saying, Bart could be a lot worse. And as much as it sucks hearing him ship our teammates, at least he's only into a limited number of fandoms."

It was two weeks later Bart came running into Mount Justice, crashing into Tim, Jaime and Gar (who were invested in their Friday game night) and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"GUUUUUUUUUYYYYYYSSSSSSS OOHHHH MYYYY GOOOOD!"

The three heroes rolled their eyes, considering they heard the zeta tube, seconds earlier. "Hey Bart, nice of you to join us. You're only," Robin checked an imaginary watch, "fourty minutes late."

"That doesn't matter! You'll never guess what happened!"

"You finally found a clock?" Jaime asked, making the two heroes beside him laugh.

"Better! So I was talking with Cassie and Bar- erh, Batgirl, over at my place, when BG got a call and had to leave. Then she came back with Nightwing and had this little tiny, super thin little box in his hands and they said happy birthday. And I was all like, 'Whhaatt? For me?' Because, you know, my birthday is still three weeks away, and they were like, 'Heck yeah happy sixteenth birthday Bart!' Except they didn't say it like that, but anyway, so I opened the box, and it had this super adorable Devil's trap wrapping paper you just _had _to see, and inside were the best freaking thing ever!"

Jaime rolled his eyes when Bart, who had been struggling to stay at a human pace, stopped his story arbruptly. "And what exactly was in the box?"

"Tickets!"

"Tickets to what?"

"WARPED TOUR!"

The scream they heard next was, surprisingly, not from Bart, but rather the teenager Boy Wonder. "WHAT?!"

Bart bobbed his head excitedly. "I'm going in month, with BG, Wing, and Wally! Like, Wing's rich, so he got a bus and everything and we're going to be _on _Warped Tour! Isn't it great?!"

"No! No, this is not great!"

"Why not?"

"I am _not _having another Wally say nothing but song lyrics to me for three damn weeks, alright?!"

"Rob- I'd never do that to you! I'm not into bands enough, yet!"

Robin narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses, and Jaime and Gar's heads turned back and forth between the two heroes, who were both standing in front of each other.

"Bart, that's _exactly _what Wally said, before he, Nightwing and Batgirl left to go _on_ Warped Tour This is it! This is the end!" Dramatically, Robin fell to his knees.

Bart's next words were (in Tim's mind) very poorly chosen. "In the end! As we fade into the night! Who will tell-"

Still on the ground, Robin tugged at his hair. "That's it! I'm going to die! I've lost my best friend to bandoms, and now I'm dying!"

"I believe that we all fall down, sometimes!"

"Bart, _shut up!_ Seriously! It's so annoying! Stop talking!" Back on his feet, Tim grabbed Bart's shirt collar.

"Rob, I'm sorry... I- I didn't know you thought it was annoying."

"It's super annoying."

"Okay, I- I... I cannot take this anymore, saying everything I've said before."

"Wait, what?"

"All these words they make no sense-"

"Wait- no! Bart!"

"What?"

"You need to stop, okay? I am not having you turn into a younger version of Wally. I am not having you turn out like Nightwing and Batgirl! Do you know how hard it is living with an emo college-age, fanfiction obsessed fangirl?"

"I didn't know you lived with Batgirl," Gar cut in, first adding to the conversation since Bart had run in.

Tim sighed. "I was talking about Nightwing."

"Look, Rob, if it annoys you, I won't quote songs, okay?"

Again, Tim sighed. "_Thank you_."

"This is so cute, our little argument! Hummingbird!"

"Bart! Neither of us are gay for each other!"

"You know I'm so right! Like, we're almost as cute as Dibs! Almost though, because nothing is cuter than Nightwing and Ba-"

"Bart!"

"Okay, okay! But, just, like- _Hummingbird_!"

"Bart, shut up! We aren't dating!"

"'Cause I don't ever wanna be your boyfriend!-"

"BART!"

"What?!"

"Shut up!"

"Shut up when you're talking to me!"

"BART, OH MY GOD SHUT UP!"

"I won't be ignored!"

"BAR-"

"Don't turn your back on me, _I WON'T BE IGNORED_!"

"...Jaime?"

"Yeah, Rob?"

"Remind me to _murder_ Nightwing and Batgirl when I get home."

* * *

If you have any prompts (and literally anything- I'm up for a challenge) send them in, because I'd love to write them for you!


	18. The Bro-code

**Notes**: **These may or may not be getting shorter, I don't know. The shorter they are, the more I update. (I think...) (Scratch that last one)**

"Dude, what the hell?!"

"Wally, I-"

"I can't believe you would betray me like that, you jerk!"

"I didn't betray you!"

Wally stormed into the mountain, fists by his sides, pouting like a toddler with Robin following close behind. When they got to the training room, both simultaneously crossed their arms, leaving the other teenaged heroes to raise their eyebrows.

Artemis sighed. "What happened?"

"Rob betrayed me!"

"Did not!"

"Uh, yeah you did, dude!"

"Woah, woah! Shut up!" Artemis said, holding her hands up. "What happened?"

"He-"

"And don't say he betrayed you, Baywatch!"

Wally scowled. "He's a terrible wingman!"

"Hey, it's not my fault I get all the ladies!"

"You're 15!" Wally screamed, and took a step towards the younger.

"And you're 10! At least, mentally!" Robin shot back, mocking Wally's actions.

"Wait- hold up! You're telling me, Baywatch, that Bird-brain here was supposed to be your wingman?" Artemis asked, and Wally nodded furiously. "But he ended up getting the chicks?"

"He _betrayed _me! He betrayed the bro-code!"

"Walls, I told you; it's not my problem I'm so lovable!"

"YOU TRAITOR!"

"SHUT UP!"

Both boys went silent, and Artemis sighed. "Rob, you ditched Wally?"

"No, his date ditched him, for me."

Artemis looked towards the red head, and raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"..."

"You got showed up by this sophomore twerp?"

"He- he-"

"That's just a whole new level of rejection," Artemis said, and smirked.

"Hey!"

"She'd rather get with someone else than her actual date?"

"N-no!"

"A 15 year old scrawny teen?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Wow, Baywatch. That's sad..."

"S-SHUT UP!"


	19. Used to It

**Notes: Something short. I wrote about 85% of it but then my laptop shut off and I couldn't find any of it. Buuutttt, I forced myself to rewrite what I could from memory and attempt to fix it. I'm not too happy with the finished product, but it's better than not updating I suppose. ****Also, April Fools is the anniversary of the Flying Grayson's deaths (but you all knew that). Thanks for reading! :)**

* * *

The soles of his shoes suddenly felt too heavy to lift, and he found himself being unable to look away. It wasn't that he was frozen with fear, but rather the fact that it was just so... familiar. The terrified screams echoing through the cave. The soft swish of air being sliced open by human skin. Those muscled arms reaching upward, hands expertly catching. Screams dissolving into... laughter? Laughter was new.

Nightwing watched as Conner reached up, wrapping his arms around Garfield's torso. "You really thought you could scare me, Gar?" Conner asked, and smirked. "Nice try, but terrible attempt." Gar grinned sheepishly, and the other teens and/or adults (because Nightwing wasn't paying attention to the other inhabitants) in the room laughed. Conner set the boy down, ruffling his hair.

"How was I supposed to know you'd spin around and toss me in the air!?" More laughs. Nightwing frowned.

Gar had fell. Down. He'd fallen down in Conner's arms.

_Falling_.

He was used to it by now- the sight, the sound, the _sensation_.

He supposed he was used to death too.

"Maybe you should try to prank someone without super hearing next time?" More joy. Nightwing remembered Wally trying to prank him. Well, he remembered the colossal fails they always were.

_"Maybe next time you should try to prank someone who isn't a ninja?"_

_"Ah, come on, Rob!"_

Nightwing narrowed his eyes at the shapeshifter.

_Falling. _

God... _falling._

He was then suddenly aware of the sweat forming inside his palms, and the pounding in his ears starting to accelerate. The terrified screams echoing through the tent, the loud _crack_ of human bone meeting cold, hard ground. The muscled arms tearing his body away from the scene, limbs broken and jagged. Screams shifting sharply into... silence.

His hands fumbled for his phone.

Phone. _Where was it?_

He needed it. He needed the phone.

Phone, _dammit_!

And when he got hold of the device, he rapidly pressed the home button. Over, and over, and _over_. The tips of his fingers, the muscles and knuckles- they wouldn't cooperate. His hands shook, and the phone slipped, falling -_falling_\- to the ground.

Then, he was on his knees, desperately trying to grab the phone. Just grab the phone! The phone, goddammit Grayson! A bead of sweat fell off a strand of his bangs, and he reached out. His vision blurred as he curled a fist tightly around the object. He turned it on.

Password.

_Password?_

What the _hell_ was his password?

He panicked.

And then two hands wrapped around his own. Nightwing's breath hitched. He felt his fingers be pried away from the phone.

"Dick?" Someone asked. Conner. Conner was on the ground next to him. His voice was soft, smooth. "Hey, Dick. Look at me."

Nightwing tensed the muscles in his arms shook his head. "Wally... Need... need to call... to call... Wall- Wa-w-wal-wal-" His mouth stopped cooperating, just like every other part of his body, and the words wouldn't leave his mouth.

"Dick. Dick, look at me. The others are gone. They left a minute ago. Take off the mask and look at me." Nightwing knew Conner didn't mean to sound harsh, but he figured the only way he would've complied was if Conner was persistent. "Take off the mask," Conner whispered. Nightwing followed orders.

When the fabric peeled away from his skin, tears which had compiled underneath his eyes spilled out. A large, lonely drop (read: puddle) washed down the sides of his nose and cheeks. Sloppily, he wiped them with his hand.

In the time Conner sat beside him, Dick refused to meet his gaze. And so Conner sat, almost-silently, waiting for him to calm down.

After a few minutes, Conner tenderly touched his shoulder. "Dick, tell me what you're thinking."

He didn't know how to respond. "I... I- I need... I just- I just want... ugh." The words wouldn't come out.

"It's alright. I'll wait."

And so Conner quieted down again, waiting once more.

Dick sighed, and counted backwards from ten.

"I need to call Wally," he whispered. "He- he knows how to make things better. He'll fix this."

"Dick..."

"No, Conner. I need to-"

"Wally's dead."

Dick shook his head. "No- no, let me call him."

"It's March- er, uh, April. It's April now, Dick. It's been four months since he died."

Dick shook his head again, and choked. "No. Shut up. He knows, Conner. He_ knows _how to make things right." He wanted to cry. God, he always did, but it wasn't like he could just break down in front of the team. It didn't matter if he wasn't officially leader anymore- he _couldn't _look weak.

But Wally _was_ dead.

Conner was right, and he was either in denial or had memory problems (And to be honest he didn't really know which was true).

And he'd broken down after watching Conner throw Garfield in the air because of some dumb failed April Fools joke.

He had to be losing it.

Or maybe... maybe he wasn't as used to death -used to _falling-_ as he thought.


	20. Dick Grayson is a Fanboy

**Requested by:** a-girl-a-computer-and-a-fandom

**Notes: I'm going to make this a mini series, probably. This was way to much fun to write. I planned to put this chapter up in a few days, maybe a week, but I couldn't help myself.:) I'll probably do one for bands, TV shows, anime, maybe some others. If you've got a fandom (genre or specific) you'd like Nightwing/Robin to enter, I'd love to write it for you. Seriously. I had so much fun writing this one. **

* * *

Tim Drake was, by no means, a violent person. But when he woke up to the Star Wars main theme blasting in his ears for the _fifth_ time that week, well- that was the final straw.

"GOD _DAMMIT_, DICK! SHUT _UP!" _

"Wha- Tim? W-w_oah, _Tim!" Dick was suddenly pulled out of his chair by the collar of his shirt, and thrown on the ground. The bowl of popcorn he'd been holding tumbled atop him, and spilt popcorn across the carpet. Letting his head fall back on the floor, Dick sighed. "Alfred's gunna make you pick that up, Ti-"

"Shut up, Grayson!"

"Woah, there! What's wrong, little bro?" Dick sat up part way, resting his weight on his elbows and forearms. "You okay?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?! What's _wrong_ is your stupid music!"

That was when Dick stood up. "Okay, alright. I didn't know it bothered you."

"Bothered me?! IT'S 3 FREAKING AM, DICK! SOME OF US WOULD LIKE MORE THAN AN HOUR OF SLEEP EACH NIGHT!" Balling his hands into fists, Tim screamed up at his brother, trying not to let the height difference get to him. Dick sighed again, and put a hand behind his neck.

"Okay- I'm sorry. I just... I'm excited, you know? I was feeling a little nostalgic and decided to have a marathon..."

"3 ROOMS. I SLEEP 3 ROOMS AWAY. I SHOULDN'T HEAR YOUR _DUMB_ _MOVIES _3 DOORS DOWN AT 3 AM!"

"Okay, I'll keep it down. Is that cool?"

"NO! Find something else to obsess over, Dick!"

Tim stormed out of the room, and Dick ran a hand through his hair. "Timmy," he called out to the open air. "I've got a feeling you weren't using my name for its intended purpose..."

He look back at the TV, which had finished the opening credits, and wondered.

Maybe it was time he got a new interest...

* * *

The date? November 2, 2017.

Why do you ask?

Simple: It was the anniversary (34 years to be exact) of the death of Mary Winchester. And Dick Grayson? He was eating a tub of ice cream at the foot of his bed. Not crying. (Anymore).

Tim walked into his eldest brother's room, and rolled his eyes. "Y'know, Alfred's going to have your head for eating in your room," he said.

"Does it look like I care?" Dick asked, and to be honest, it really didn't. "Do you _know_ what I've been through, Tim? Do you _know_?" Tim raised and eyebrow as his brother patted the bed next to him. "Come here, Timmy. Sit." Suspicious, and slightly weirded out, Tim complied. "You see, I was thinking 'Hey, it's November 2. The death of Mary Winchester. Why don't I binge watch some Supernatural because I'm only just started season 3 and then BOOM! Right in the heart! Right here, Tim! Right here!" Tim turned to see Dick poking his chest. "It hurts _right_ _here_," he closed his eyes and let out a long breath for an added stoical affect.

Tim rolled his eyes again and sighed. "All right, Dick," he resigned. "Why does it hurt?"

"Because he's _dead! _He's in hell!"

"Who?" Tim asked

"_Dean..._" Dick whispered dramatically, and scooped a spoonful of mint-chocolate-chip into his mouth.

"Dean?" Tim gave his brother a 'are-you-kidding-me-right-now' look, and blinked. "Dean," he said again, but more so as a statement than a question.

"_Yes!" _

"And, uh- what show is this again? Supernatural?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"And just _why_," Tim drew out the last word, "did you watch it?"

Dick give him an incredulous look. "Because," he snapped, and Tim flinched at the sudden change in tone. "My little brother _told_ me to _get _a _new_ _obsession!_" Dick's expression became more pained/ridiculous with each word. With one last sigh, Tim stood up from the bed.

"Alright, sure. Just, uhh- maybe you should give this show- Supernatural- a break. Why don't you find something else?"

"Why? So I won't have to see Castiel in season 4?! I've been on tumblr, Tim! I've seen the spoilers! You think I don't know but I do!" Dick shouted a few more phrases, but Tim was all too preoccupied with _getting out of there_ to pay attention.

God, what was that?

The Star Wars fiasco had only been last week!

* * *

When Bruce Wayne walked down into the batcave after a long day at work, he'd been expecting his sons to be sparring, or Alfred to be teaching first aid, maybe

some hacking practice. Mission reports. Data analyzing. Training. Hell, even some brotherly quarrels!

What he did not expect, however, was for his nineteen year old son to be using the batcomputer as a megascreen to watch Doctor Who.

"Dick," he said, completely done with everything_. "What are you doing?" _

Said child whipped his head around. "Bruce!" He screamed, and scrambled around for a 'pause' option. "Uhh...What are _you _doing?" He retorted, but Bruce kept the same unamused/slightly confused expression on his face.

"I asked first."

"I ask secon-"

"_Dick_."

Dick sighed. "Alright, alright! Sheesh! I was using the batcomputer to watch some tv, psh, _obviously_!"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "...Why?"

Awkwardly, Dick scratched the back of his head. "Conspiracy theories...?" He chuckled nervously to try and lighten the mood. (Spoiler alert: it didn't help.)

"What (the hell is wrong with my son)?" Bruce crossed his arms, walking over to Dick and looking up at the screen. "What conspiracy theories?"

"The ones involving Rose and the Doctor, obviously!" Dick, whose attitude seemed to maneuver an massive 180, pointed to a blonde haired girl on the screen. "That's Rose. Rose Tyler. And that right there is the TARDIS-"

"_Richard_," Bruce growled, making the boy flinch. He closed his eyes, letting out a long and very audible breath. Calm down. Just calm down. "What are you watching?"

"Doctor Who!" Dick smiled wide, and turned back to the screen. "That's him. The Doctor-"

"_Why_ are you watching this _down here_?" With his attitude not wanting to simmer down, Bruce furrowed his brow.

"I told. The conspiracy theories," Dick replied. He raised an eyebrow. "Bruce, are you feeling alri-"

"_Why?_"

"Bruce-"

"Isn't the flat screen good enough? Isn't the massive flat screen in your bedroom good enough for your _damn_ _conspiracy __theories!_?"

"... Well..." Dick frowned, dejected. "The batcomputer's bigger and better, I guess."

"I come home from seven hours of idiots _screaming_ in my ears trying to design the future of Wayne Tech to find my son _lounging_ in the cave watching Doctor Whatever on the _batcomputer,_ looking around for_ conspiracy theories _like some_ freak show!"_

(Of course, Bruce said all of this in his head.)

"Alright, Dick. Okay," he sighed. "Alright. Just... I'll be upstairs. In my room." Without waiting for a reply, he whisked around and exited as fast as possible. While trying to sneak upstairs, he turned a corner came face to face with none other than Tim Drake, his second-oldest son.

"Tim, what are you doing?" Bruce grabbed hold of Tim's shoulders, and narrowed his eyes.

"Going to the kitchen... why...?" Time replied suspiciously. He retreated from the slightly-awkward position and frowned.

"Oh thank god!" Instantly, Bruce relaxed.

Tim only deepened his frown. "Bruce...?"

"Dick's looking for conspiracy theories on the batcomputer. I need a normal child in this household."

"He's doing _what_?"

"It involves some show. Doctor Something..."

Tim stepped back. Dammit. "Who? _Doctor Who_?" His eyes widened in... fear?

"Yes," Bruce was about to ask his son why he was scared when suddenly Tim was sprinting past him. "Tim! What are you doing?!"

"I screwed up! It's only been two weeks and I didn't _mean_ for it to get this bad!"

"What?!"

"I said I didn't mean for it to get this bad..." Tim's voice faded, and Bruce stood there.

A few seconds passed.

A minute.

Then-

"_What the hell_?"

* * *

"Hey, Wing, thanks for coming with me tonight. I know you're busy with Bludhaven and what not."

Robin jumped off the edge of a building onto the fire escape of the next. He climbed upwards, reaching the top, and scanning the city. A few blocks away was none other than Wayne Tower, his destination. Not bother to turn around, he sprinted across the roof, jumped off the edge, and repeated the process. Nightwing followed behind at a similar pace.

"No problem," he heard Nightwing call. "Haven's been quiet the past few days; I can spare a night with my wittle-bittle baby bro." Rolling his eyes, Robin continued running.

"I'm 15."

"I'm almost 20- doesn't change a thin-" Nightwing stopped talking. The constant patter of footsteps ceased, and Robin whipped around.

"Wing?"

"_Shh!_"

There, kneeling at the edge of the building, was his brother.

"What are you-"

"_Shut up!_"

What? He didn't hear anything. Running over to his side, Robin mirrored Nightwing's position, looking over into an alley. Dark. Empty. No shadows, people, thieves or pervs. There wasn't anything there!

(Then of course, he was proven wrong.)

An almost-silent, low groaning came from somewhere, and his eyes widened.

"Is that-"

"A walker?"

Robin paused. Slowly, he turned towards Nightwing. Although blocked by a mask, Robin was sure the 'what are you on' / 'are you freaking kidding me' point got across. "What?"

"_It's a walker._"

"Wing-"

"_Shh!_" Nightwing interrupted. "_They're attracted to noise!_"

Dropping his head, Robin sighed. "Seriously? We're doing this again? Again?! It's only been 3 weeks!"

"_SHHH! Robin!_ Do you want to die_?_"

"Nightwing. It's not a zombie. It's a mouse. A dog. A cat. Some stray animal. We need to get to the stakeout."

"_No!_ It's a walker. Trust me. I know_. _I've seen enough Walking Dead to understand basic apocalypse knowledge."

"What?!"

"_Shh! Keep your voice down! _Now, I'm only on season 2, but daaaang, Rob. Trust me. This show? It's the real deal."

"It's a freaking cat!"

"Robin. Whisper, _please!_"

Robin stood up. "Nope. I'm not dealing with this," he ran a hand through his hair, drawing out a long breath. "I am not dealing with your _dumb_ fanboy nonsense. I should have just let you watch Star Wars! God! I couldn't keep my mouth shut- could I? I just had to get pissed off and-"

"Robin!"

"IT'S A CAT FOR GOD SAKES, NIGHTWING!"

And then, for once when fate finally seemed to be on his side, a cat crawled out from behind the dumpster.

* * *

**I seriously had WAY to much fun writing this. I'm definitely continuing fanboy-Nightwing know it's pretty OOC at points, but hey- all in good nature, right? **


	21. Ugly Celebrity Battle

"You look like Freddy Krueger," Impulse snickered. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and clutched his sides.

"Like you're no better, Anakin Skywalker," Robin shot back, trying a smirk.

For a moment, Impulse offered his friend a mock frown. "At least I get to wear a mask..."

Now- hold on. They hadn't planned to look so hideously grotesque.

Then again, they hadn't planned on getting captured or tortured either. To be honest, the torture wasn't all too bad- their constant deriding remarks during it had earned them the fist full of sucker punches. (It wasn't their fault the villains had the patience of a newborn Conner Kent.)

"Freddy Krueger could kick Anakin's ass anyday," Robin mumbled. Closing his eyes, he too put his head against the wall. He was in a hell of a lot of pain, but being Bart made the situation more tolerable. That and the fact those men were no Joker or Two-Face.

"I'm gunna' go ahead and call BS to that, Rob," Bart replied. His voice echoed through the cell.

With any luck, the team would been there in thirty minutes, but knowing their's... Robin sighed and prepared for an uncomfortable night.

"Y'know," Impulse started, "Wally told me about something like this."

Robin raised an unseen eyebrow. "Yeah...?"

" 'Said he and Wing once got kidnapped, and annoyed the villains so much they eventually gave up and let them go."

"But how annoying were they?" The two men had a reputation for being the number one duo in teenage hero history, and Tim remembered how many times he wanted stab them for pulling annoying pranks.

"Pretty bad I'd say," Bart said.

Tim smirked and asked, "On a scale of Paris Hilton to Kim Kardashian?"

"... At _least_ a Nicki Manaj." Both boys attempted a laugh, which came out as groans of pain.

"No more laughing. That's going to hurt tomorrow," Impulse breathed out. Robin winced in agreement.

"At least you've got speed-healing."

"At least you've got money," Bart shot back.

Inching his way up, Robin sat upright and looked to his friend. "At least you don't have to wear suits every night."

"At least you don't have to go broke buying food!" Bart yelled.

"At least you've got it easy with school!" Robin raised the bar in decibles, but both boys kept the same dumb smile on their faces.

"At least you don't have to mantain just a perfect looking figure!"

"Please," Tim said (very sass-ily in Bart's opinion). "You look like Lindsay Lohan."

Bart gasped. "I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Yeah- well you look like George Lopez!"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "That's a terrible comparison."

"You're right, _Marilyn Manson,_" Bart taunted. Robin broke a grin and held back a laugh.

"Don't make me laugh, dude," he grumbled.

Bart begged to disagree. "Rob, you're the comedic here."

Tim blinked. "...yeah, _no_."

Being captured hadn't been on either teen's agenda (and the torture was no walk in the park). But hey, at least they could make fun of celebrities together. That, and the fact that it wasn't Two-Face or Joker.

* * *

**Originally from a tumblr post, but it took a different direction. I'm happy with it, though. Thanks for reading!**

**Prompts are open, and any input you have is greatly appreciated. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	22. Whipped Cream Clears the Pores

**I've seen some 3/5 sentence writing prompt/challenge thingies on a few different websites, and so of course I'm going to give it a try. **

Once in a blue moon, Bruce Wayne was caught off guard. Those blue moons started appearing more frequently now that he was raising a teenager.

"Dick, what on _earth _are you-"

"This isn't what it looks like!"

"I'm pretty sure bathing in whipped cream is exactly what it looks like."

**Okay, so here I am, sitting on my couch, avoiding my homework and drinking chocolate milk begging for some drabble ideas when this pops in my head. It was too short to be anything else, and I decided to leave details to the imagination. Seriously- not even joking, this took me five minutes. If you've got yourself a lil' drabble prompt or idea, I'd LOVE to write it. Legit. I'd LOVE to. Send in those prompts, because... because why not? :)**


	23. Nightwing's Gaydar (ft Closet Jokes)

Jaime stared at the metal. Tall, wide, undoubtedly thick, with thousands of wires underneath it all. There was a small keypad to the left of said metal, but Jaime didn't care about that piece of technology necessarily. He watched as Cassie pulled back from another punch, breathing heavy. Slowly, he strode up next to her and placed an open palm against the silver. Cool to the touch... Behind him, Gar and Bart stayed rooted to their spots.

Robin walked by them and paused. "What's going on?" He asked.

"We can't get this damn door open!"

"No one has..." Bart mumbled.

The four became five as they all stood there staring at the Mountain's oh-so-mysterious closet door.

"...Dead bodies- or- or _a portal_!"

"_No_, _ese_! It's not a portal," Jaime cut off Bart just as Nightwing began strolling down the hallway. The moment he saw the young heroes investigation the (not-so-)mysterious let closet, a devilish smile spread to his ears. It'd been awhile since anyone asked about the closet.

"Hey guys," he greeted, making Gar and Cassie jump.

"Boss!" Cassie shouted, startled. "Do you know what's in here?"

Nightwing nodded. "Sure do," he replied and continued down the hallway.

"Well? What is it?"

Gar nodded his head eagerly. "What's in the closet?"

As he gave a halfway turn back to the group, Nightwing's eyes met Robin's through the masks. Robin gave the slightest shake of his head, but Nightwing continued to smile slyly.

"Robin."

**Took me an entire drabble to make one measly joke about Tim's sexuality. This isn't meant to be Tim x anyone. If you like straight Tim, then please feel free to see this as a joke. If you like flaming-homo Tim, please feel free to respect Dick's gaydar.**


	24. Dick Grayson is a Fanboy: Anime Edition

**Notes: Dick Grayson is a fanboy: Anime Edition**

** If you don't like anime, I'm sorry about this chapter's update... :( The shows/mangas mentioned are (in order) Ouran High School Host Club, Naruto, Death Note, Bleach, Hetalia, and Attack on Titan. I would've included some others, (Fairy Tail, Black Butler, Soul Eater, Fullmetal Alchemist, etc, that are more 'mainstream' and recognizable, but I honestly would trash them so hard, so I won't.) It may seem like I'm only doing my own fandoms, but I promise I'm not. I am a Death Note and OHHC fan, but I've only seen some Naruto and AoT. I haven't even TOUCHED Bleach and Hetalia. The bleach joke is something I hear like EVERYDAY though. I swear I'm not Mary-Sueing this...**

**Warning: OOC galore. **

* * *

Tim leaned over to open the car door but was suddenly stopped by Dick, who had leaned over him and grab hold of the handle.

"Dick, what the hell?" He asked, because 1) Why was his brother driving him to school instead of Alfred and 2) Tim was an extremely punctual person. "I have to go," he added.

"Yeah, well..." Dick relaxed and sat up, but the look he sent Tim kept the younger brother firmly in his spot. "I've got this idea," he started, and Tim knew his perfect attendance was about to go out the window.

"What?"

"Since, y'know, you always complain about how _boring _and _easy_ school is and how _annoying _and _terrible_ the other students are, I got to thinking-"

"Dick." Tim cut his brother off, but _oh no_, Dick wasn't finished talking.

"-Hold on! So I got to thinking- you should start a club!" Dick smiled enthusiastically, and Tim slowly blinked, making sure the pissed off 'are you kidding me' vibes got into his brother's space.

"A club," he deadpanned. "Why the hell would I start a club?"

"I was watching this show, and-"

"What show?"

It took a few moments for Dick to reply. "Umm, some anime. I _just_ started watching it. It's like something-something high school host club-"

"_Host club_?"

"Yeah. It would be so asterous, don't you think? You could get Stephanie to dress up, and whatever other friends you have, and-"

Tim turned the handle before Dick could stop him, and bolted out of his seat. "Dick, no offence, but no. I'm not a teenage prostitute."

Dick leaned over to the window, and reached for his younger brother. "It's not for money!"

Tim rolled his eyes and began walking away. "If you want sex so bad, call up Babs! Or Wally or Roy or Zee or basically anyone who'll sleep with you, for crying out loud..."

* * *

"What is this? These are the worst cards ever!" Jaime groaned, but kept an amused smile on this face. "It's too bad everyone's busy."

"You know what we need right now?" Nightwing asked, walking into the Watchtower's entertainment room. Robin, Gar, Bart, and Jaime were trying to play Apples to Apples, and failing. "Shadow clone jutsu."

Simultaneously, all four teens turned towards their leader. "What?" Gar asked.

"You know, so we could actually play games for once. It's kind of hard when know one else is here," he replied cooly, and went over to sit by the heroes.

"No, not that-" Robin huffed. "The shadow clone thing. The hell is that?"

Bart nodded. "Yeah, I didn't know you watched Naruto, cus' I do! I was annoying Wally once and to shut me up he played it for me. I'm hooked!"

"Oh, I just started a few days ago," Nightwing shrugged. "But isn't it great?"

Again, Bart nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I'm not really an anime person, but-"

"Hold up," Robin interrupted. "This isn't one of those obsessive things, right? Because if it is, I-"

Nightwing put a hand up in a pacifying manner. "_Relax_, little bro! I'm not _obsessed. _I only just started watching on, like, Friday."

"Ohh! Where're you at? I'm not done, but I've seen a lot of 'em." Bart asked, and grinned.

"Like episode 80-something. Can you believe they're almost to 1000 episodes total?"

"I know; it's crazy!" Bart threw his cards in the air, and Jaime groaned. Slowly, he moved to swipe them up.

"What?!" Robin stood up and moved closer to his brother, glaring through his glasses. "No. I'm not going to suffer when you get to the 300 mark and bawl your eyes out when something sad happens," He barked. With his next to words seething out of his mouth, Nightwing sighed. "New. Interest."

"Fine, alright. Alright. Now deal me in," he jerked his head towards Jaime, who had finished reshuffling the deck. "Five people playing is better than four!"

* * *

"Don't get me wrong, I'm loving my morals, but there are some people on this planet that I wouldn't mind getting some sweet revenge on," Mal commented off-handedly as he swiped through the files.

Nightwing nodded beside him. "Being a hero's cool, but like, Deathstroke is seriously getting on my nerves."

"The bastard just doesn't know when to quit!"

"Who doesn't know when to quit?" Karen, who had just entered the room with Cassie, Batgirl and Megan, asked.

Mal pointed to the holographic screen behind him. "Deathstroke," he answered, and walked over to meet his long time girlfriend. Spoiler alert: they kissed.

"Mmhmm, I hear you," Batgirl muttered. "Dude's been giving us crap since, what, 2012? 11?" She looked to Nightwing for clarification, who shrugged.

"Longer than that. He was giving B hell before I came along... Ugh, we need a death note so bad."

Batgirl raised an eyebrow. "A what?"

"You know, we could just write his name down and pretend we didn't kill him," he said, just as Robin and Bart walked into the room.

"Pretend we didn't kill _who_?" Robin asked, staring at his slightly disturbing older brother.

"Deathstroke. He totally killed our butts yesterday!" Cassie interjected, adding to the conversation. The few heroes who'd participated on the mission groaned.

"Don't remind us, Cass..." Bart sighed.

"Wait, we aren't actually killing anyone, right?" Robin asked, and Nightwing laughed at his brother's cluelessness.

"No, I was making a joke about this new show I'm watching. Since you _refused_ to let me continue Naruto, I picked up Death Note."

"What?"

"It's about death, duh."

"No-"

"Yes."

Robin sighed, and walked out. "I don't want to know... I'm leaving," he muttered, and walked out of the room.

After he left Karen turned towards Nightwing. "What was that about, hon?"

"Rob's a prick about anime."

* * *

"AHH! AHH! NO NO NO!"

"Gar, dude! What's wrong?"

"Nope! NOPE! NOT. NOTED. UGH!"

Garfield's sudden burst into the Watchtower's entertainment room gained the attention of every hero there. Hal Jorden, who'd been versing Bart in pool, raised an eyebrow.

"Woah. D-er, Wing, what's up with your team? You all right kid?"

Garfield groaned, and grabbed at his eyes. "AH! Things I _don't_ need to see are _in my head_!"

Robin bolted up to the young hero, and stood by Bart, who was already there. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Gar, you okay?" Nightwing asked, and leaned forward from his spot on the couch.

"NO! No, I'm not okay!" He screamed, and tugged at his hair. "Bleach, I need _bleach!_"

Nightwing stood straight up. "What?"

"I can't see this world anymore! My eyes! MY POOR YOUNG EYES!"

"You need Bleach? I've got it on Netflix, bud. Hold on-"

"NO! Not that!"

Hal inched towards the group, and held his hands up. "Woah, slow down, kid. Just breathe and tell us what you saw."

At that moment, both Megan and Clark Kent burst into the room. "I heard shouting!" Superman cried as Megan bent down to catch her breath.

"Gar needs Bleach!" Nightwing shouted back, and Robin sighed.

"No! This isn't about some show! Shut up! Gar's traumatized!"

Megan walked over to her younger brother, but Gar screamed and darted behind the main protagonist of this chapter, who was still screaming about clorox bleach. Robin was retorting 'shut up' remarks. "GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS AWAY FROM ME!"

L'gann chose that moment to run into the room shirtless and in boxers.

Robin, Nightwing, and Gar all chose that moment to shut up.

"Oh."

"_Oh_..."

"Poor kid."

"Dude, this was_ not _in the history books."

"Gar still needs Bleach."

"SHUT UP!"

* * *

Cassie stormed into the mountain's kitchen "Oh my _god_. I hate him. I hate him! He's just so- ugh!"

Nightwing raised an eyebrow as he began to make his coffee. "Pardon?"

"I hate everyone."

"Rough day at school?"

Cassie sighed, and slouched into a chair at the island. "Not any worse that all the other days," she mumbled.

The team leader nodded. "I'm sorry. Wanna' talk?" He asked, and leaned against the island across from her.

Putting a palm to her cheek, Cassie leaned forward. "Well, I don't hate you."

"Whose the mystery douche, then?"

Cassie giggled at his word choice, but recovered back to her teen angst-y state. "If I say, you'll hunt him down and no offense... but I'm good. He's not a bully or anything. Just so _annoying_!"

"Yeah?"

"He thinks just because he has a fancy accent everyone wants to sleep with him!"

"So," Nightwing pursed his lips. "I'm guessing that includes you?"

"YES! He's so ugly, too! Like, ever heard of a razor? Ugh, and he's like 17, but looks like an awkward ten year old. Oh my _god..." _

_"_Yeah?" Nightwing's coffee had finished, and as he stood up to go get it, he continued to let Cassie rant.

"He just walks up to me, '_Oh Cass, babe you wanna have some fun?'" _She said in an obnoxious voice. "Like, no, freak! '_Come on, I'll play fair._' Ugh! He's just, so, GAH!" When she stopped and put her hands to the side of her face, Nightwing chose not to say anything. Cass clearly needed this. "I hate him! Everyday, he walks like an asshole around the school flirting with girls with boyfriends and trying to bang others. Can I do anything? I mean- it's not like I can just punch his ugly face into the pavement! I say stuff, and he just turns on me and calls me his little Christmas whore like it's suppose to turn me on! I hate him and his British face and his British voice and his freaking British country!"

Nightwing gasped, and put a hand to his heart. His baby! How could anyone hate his baby?! "My baby..."

"What?" Cassie turned to the man, dumbfounded. "Me?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, no. Britain."

"That creep?!" Cassie screeched, and Nightwing fought back from spitting out his coffee.

"What?! No! Britain! The country!"

Cassie slouched into her palm again, and huffed. "Yeah. Still confused, bossman."

"It's a character on an anime. Hetalia. Little short episodes about the countries as cute lil' anime people."

The blonde nodded, catching on. "This is another one of those cartoon shows Robin complains about?"

"Yup!"

"Gotchya." She let out a chuckle. "Don't let Rob find out. He'll freak."

"Oh he will. I hung country flags all over his room this morning after he left for school. I'm going to get it when he sees it. Yikes."

* * *

Christmas had been too kind to Tim Drake. Way too kind. Seriously unbelievably way too kind. Like, legit. Too kind. He lived with Batman, a demon spawn, a circus freak and a zombie.

So, when December 24th rolled around and he still hadn't been pranked, stabbed, or witness Dick's common fanboying, Tim got suspicious.

It had been a week since Dick's vivid declaration of global peace in his room, and he hadn't heard or seen his older brother freak out.

"Hey, Dick?" He asked, and tapped his knuckles against the wooden door. A muffled 'yeah?' came from inside the room, and a few seconds later a shirtless, dis shelved Dick Grayson poked his head out.

"Timmy? What's'up? It's like... early..."

"Yeah, sorry. I just- is everything alright?" Tim asked his brother, and Dick frowned tiredly.

"Umm... yeah," Dick mumbled. "Why? Are you okay?"

"You just haven't been yourself, y'know?"

Confused, Dick furrowed his brow. "Not really..."

"Like, you haven't been all fanboy-y, and I know that's kind of who you are now, so..."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry 'bout that, Timmy. I'm..." Dick yawned, and leaned his head against the door, eyes half closed. "I'm really busy with Con's undercover mission in Belgium."

Tim nodded. "Okay. You just, you're always so happy when you're into a new show or something, so I was checking up on you."

Dick nodded, "Thanks, Timmy..."

Now here was the part that Tim knew he was going to regret. Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck. "So, uhm, I was looking online and," oh he was so going to regret this, "I found this anime. Attack on Titan. You should... you should check it out."

"Thanks, Timmy," Dick repeated, and gave his brother a tired smile. After that, Dick went back to sleep and Tim went on with his day pretending the exchange hadn't happened.

Now, jump to Christmas Day, 2017. Being that no one, including Damian, believed in Santa Clause, Tim was prepared to enjoy a nice late start and sleep in.

That wasn't the case.

"MIKAAASSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Tim was woken up by Dick shouting whatever 'Mikasa' was at the top of his lungs as he dove straight onto Tim's bed.

"_What. The. Hell_?"

"Sorry bro, but it's important. I've been up for 13 hours watching naked giants eat people," Dick rushed out between breaths. Tim groaned and buried his head into his pillow. "Now, besides that- it's Christmas, and as your older brother, it is my job to make sure we get every Christmas tradition over with starting now. No sleeping in!"

After Dick left shouting about Jason and Damian, Tim let loose another groan. In the distance, he heard the faint sound of a baby goose screaming 'MIKAAAAASSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAA!'

And yeah- Tim was definitely regretting being such a caring brother.

* * *

**Yay, all done. I've got a request for The Mortal Instruments series and some other books, but anything else? I'm loving this, no matter how OOC I get. **

**Thanks so much for being such awesome, amazing readers; I'll see you next time!**


	25. Birthright Means Cookies

**More 5 sentence prompts, courtesy of the ever so lovely tumblr.**

**You could have saved me.**

"Bart, look out!" No matter how fast Bart Allen was, nothing could save him from the bucket of purple paint spilling onto his head.

The horrified speedster looked up to his supposed best friend. "Jaime, you... you could have saved me."

"You were supposed to let Gar walk through the door first, idiot!"

* * *

**Who's taking notes?**

**"**First step to getting back at Nightwing's ass: recognize his ability to be an asshole," Batgirl smirked. "Second, when he's caught in a fish net, leave him there."

Garfield look over to their leader, who was currently blushing underneath the tangled fish net. "So... who's taking notes?"

* * *

**We could hold hands.**

"Are you okay, Dick?"

"Honestly, Wally, no. I'm not."

"Tell me what you need, dude."

"I don't know, a high five?"

"Better- we could hold hands."

* * *

**It's a matter of birthright. **

Before Robin could take the last cookie off the rack, a hand swooped under him and stole it.

"Sorry little bro, but I call dibs," Nightwing replied and shrugged.

"How come you _always_ get the last cookie?"

"It's a matter of birthright."

"We aren't even biologically related!"

* * *

**Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed and favorite and followed and read this story. It's a _ton_ of fun. If you've got any prompts or requests, I'd love to write them. :)**


	26. Coward Extraordinaire - Part 1

Child Abuse Awareness Month

**April is Child Abuse Awareness month, and the ever so-lovely Princess of Flames requested I do a chapter on the topic. Unbeknowest to you all, I'd been re-reading one of an outstanding oneshots entitled "Numb" by YueRaven224 just a few days ago and started to think about doing a story for CAAM. I was unsure, but when I got a review about it, I knew immediately it was without a doubt an excellent reason to write.**

**I'm sure you've all heard stories about child abuse; it's a very serious matter. It centers around the 5 major types of abuse- Physical and Sexual abuse, Psychological abuse, Medical neglect and strait up Neglect. I myself have been lucky enough to be raised in a home with loving parents for the first few years of my life.**** To those of you who have suffered abuse of any form, I applaud you for your courage. The fact that you remain strong to fight another day is unbelievable- it inspires me and so many others to never give up. To everyone else: If possible, help bring the assholes who make children's lives hell to justice. It is, in so many cases, life or death. **

* * *

There was a brief moment before the skin made contact and he was taken aback to to a time before then. Those precious seconds, unaccounted for, lasted a lifetime. Although, when one was as young as him, a lifetime was merely a piece of a puzzle, without any others to connect to. He'd always prefered the corner pieces- but just because someone wanted something didn't mean it would happen. He was a puzzle piece, and this situation was one time when he'd rather not be a corner. Corners meant connections. He didn't want to 'connect.' Not with that fist, and not with that memory.

The fist came slowly, and he saw the skin around the knuckles tighten, the muscles jolt forward behind the wrist. He saw the thin arm not as his friend's, but as his father's. His father was a big man, and his arms had always terrified him the most. Perhaps one day he wouldn't be so scared, but the chances of that happening were slim. He was taken back, and there he was as a little boy again. Standing frozen on a dirty carpet, paralyzed. His father swung once, twice, (three strikes and you're _out_) while his mother screamed. She'd always had a lovely voice, but when it came to crying for help, there wasn't anyone around to listen. The neighbors to the left had moved years before he was born, and the young couple to the right worked late at night. Lucky them.

If he could, he'd scream it from the top of his lungs until his heart gave way. He'd shout at the birds and children in the park- anyone or anything who would listen. He'd cry his throat dry, and continue even after the words turned to dust. He'd silently, painfully, beg for an audience willing to watch his parched lips try and form incoherent sentences. The tears leaking from his eyes would fuel his adrenaline, and he'd crawl to the ends of the earth so that no one would have to endure what he had. And then, he'd do it all over again _if he could_.

The demon vanished from view, and he was back to reality. The small, pale fist came crashing home. Briefly, he stood still, shocked. Then, the force of wind following the fist came roaring. He fell.

It hurt. God, _it hurt_. Not the punch. He was use to those- it was apart of the job description. What hurt the fact that he had been unwillingly reunited with the terms of his cowardliness.

Wally West: coward extraordinaire.

Unknowingly, Dick leaned forward with an outstretched hand.

"You alright? I didn't mean to punch that hard- kinda figured you'd dodge it," the teen said.

Wally West clicked internally, and the fake smile plastered itself on his face before he was aware of his reaction. "Nah, I'm fine, dude. 'Just wasn't expecting a shrimp like you to pack a punch more that my grandma," he replied easily, and took the offered hand.

Dick raised an eyebrow, but didn't take the compliment to heart. "Whatever, Walls."

As Dinah dismissed the team from training and Dick followed Artemis somewhere, the ever so familiar facade dropped and Wally West was once again Wally West. He remained behind to wipe off the his back for any dust from the fall, and slowly, painfully, trudged back to his room.

Wally turned on the shower in his bathroom a few minutes later, and leaned his head against the til while he waited for the heat. When steam poured out, memories of scalding water being poured on him as a youth came flooding back. Wounds like that left scars, but people like Wally liked pants and shirts.

Robin had seem him shirtless- so had Roy and Aunt I and Uncle B for that matter. Barry had scars from extreme wounds not even the speed healing could repair, and Wally was a clumsy teen. People like him were bound to slip up in fights, and Robin had many more than him. Everyone had scars.

Wally breathed in the damp, hot scent of cleanliness and stepped behind the curtain.

\- Doc ManagerHe'd always taken long showers- no one had ever intruded on him during one (including Rudolph West).

Sometimes, the world spun too fast for one person, and when the winds caught in his throat as he ran, he'd have to slow down and start again. Always starting again, always _missing the finish line_. That was who Wally West was. The coward who lived a cycle of repetitive blows to the face, insults to his head, and lies to his friends. Just when he came close to being honest, just when his fingers grew naught in anticipation of fighting back, just when the truth crawled up his throat, everything halted before him. The record stopped spinning, the movie stopped playing, and the rewind button was pushed down as hard as it could go. Then, he was back at the start- lying to his team, paralyzed with fear, and the truth sunken down at the pit of his stomach.

That was who Wally West was.

An hour later, he was sprawled across the couch behind his closest friend, cheering him on in a video game match against Artemis. A large grin was plastered on his face, and Wally felt content. His life was always hell, and the moments of bliss he experienced with Flash and the team were unforgettable. Some portion of that smile was real, maybe all of it- he wasn't sure. At the moment, he was solely focused on the television screen, and what chants exited his mouth.

Megan came walking in a while later during an intense match between Artemis and Wally, announcing that dinner was ready. It was a Friday, and everyone was clear to spend the night- including Dick. Well, Wally hadn't called his parents. His father usually passed out after dinner, and his mother was easier to barter with. He'd call later to ask.

"Yo, Rob," Wally called out, walking behind the younger.

"Hmm?"

"What's B so busy doing tonight that you're free?" He asked, nudging Dick's shoulder.

"Undercover mission," he replied. That had been code for Wayne Enterprises business-y stuff. "Classified. Won't tell me, the prick!"

Aqualad nodded, grabbing glasses out of the cabinets. "Perhaps," he started in on the conversation, "he is trying to protect you?"

Robin shrugged. "Yeah, who cares? If it means saving you all from having to deal with Wally alone tonight, I guess I'll manage," he smirked.

Wally chuckled, and steered away at a new topic. "What's for dinner, Megalicious?"

"Spaghetti!"

* * *

"Hey, mom?" He asked when the ringer subdued.

"Wally? Where are you?"

Did she sound... frantic? "The mountain, why?"

"Your father's still awake, and is _extremely_ drunk," she whispered.

Air seethed through his teeth, and Wally swore. "I'm sorry, mom. I didn't think he'd- I'll be right over, okay?"

"No! God, Wally, I'm afraid he'd kill you this time. I'll tell him you're on a mission with Barry, and try to get his drunk enough to pass out. Just- just _please_ don't come home."

"Mom, where are you?" Wally asked, and walked over to his closet to find his costume. "Has he hurt you?"

"..."

"_Mom_!"

"No! I'm in the bathroom. I told him I had to go when my phone starting buzzing," Mary whispered again, and Wally ran a hand through his hair. A choked sob made it's way through the phone speaker, and Wally swore again.

"What's wrong, mom?"

Mary West didn't answer.

"_Mom!_"

"... I think he has a gun-"

"What?! Mom, I'm calling the police."

"Wally, baby, please," his mother interrupted. "Please baby, just... just stay where you are. I'll handle this. If the police, or your uncle, or even you, shows up tonight, I'm afraid he'll going to shoot someone. Just..." Her breath became hitched, and Wally knew she was crying. "Just _please_, baby, _please_... I don't want you to die." Mary's voice broke, and Wally tried to shush her.

"Mom," his voice wavered. "Mom, stay in the bathroom. And don't let dad hear you. I'm calling the police."

"_No_. Wally, dammit. I'm begging you, stay with your team. I'll handle this."

"Mom, I don't want you to-"

"Wallace Rudolph West, do what I say! Stay at the mountain or I swear to god..."Mary's voice broke again, and Wally waited for the breathing calmed down. "Wally, baby... I love you."

The phone call ended, and Wally couldn't have pressed the call back button any faster. After half a ring, the call went to voicemail, and Wally tugged at his hair.

"_Shit_."

* * *

Wally West was a coward, but today- today he was going to be something different. Today he was going to forcefully grab that damn shipwrecked truth from his stomach and paint it acrossed the sky.

He didn't bother to offer an excuse or a goodbye to the team. The zeta beams started up, and Wally was gone.

Seconds later, he was outside his house, staggering to the front porch. Before he could clasp the doorknob, a wall of fear built its way in front of him. The vibrating that wasn't speed-oriented began to inch up his legs, towards his hands and chest. The muscles in his knees stopped working, and he fell with a dull thud to the ground. He sat atop his calves, head hung low.

Tears flooded his water line, and his vision went blurry. One, two (three strikes and you're _dead_) tears fell from his eyes, abstaining away from his cheeks and directly to his pant legs. A crumbled Kid Flash costume landed neatly on top of itself as Wally's left hand went numb. In his right, a phone. His soap box. '_911 What's you're emergency__?_' were the first words he'd hear since his mother's confession. I love you is apparently an emergency. How ironic? How_ pathetic..._ His thumb lingered above the bright green 'call' button, and he knew if he pulled through, the police and everyone in his neighborhood would be circulating his house in just minutes.

No.

No- because that's who Wally was.

Wally West was a coward no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he wished, no matter how hard he begged to be otherwise. That 911 call wasn't him- this was. The sad little scared boy too terrified to do anything but watch daddy throw punch after punch, bottle after bottle, insult after insult. Wally West was a song set to replay over and over again, because just when the final chords were strummed, and the music faded away, he was started back up again set to recount every last detail, every last note, every last word.

He opened the door, and hung his head low. He took a step forward, and his gaze never left the floor.

"...Dad? I'm- I'm home. I'm... I'm sorry for being so late, I should've t-"

_Bang_.

Eventually the record got so scratched and damaged that it stopped playing all together.

That's who Wally West was.


	27. Coward Extraordinaire - Part 2

**Some requests for a part 2 to last chapter. I originally was going to leave it, but what's a girl to do when she's in English and has fifty minutes with nothing to do? (Well, I did originally start some birdflash oneshots, but then my mind turned to this.) **

**For Child Abuse Awareness Month. Part 2 (and the end) of 'Coward Extrordinaire,' which can be found in the previous chapter. **

* * *

bzz_ bzz bzz bzz_

In his pocket, underneath layers of clothing and blankets, his phone vibrated.

_bzz bzz bzz bzz_

Maybe if he ignored it, whoever the hell kept calling him would stop.

_Maybe if he ignored the pain, Rudolph West would stop the beatings. _

Fat chance.

The air nipped his nose, and Wally tugged the thick blue trauma blanket around him further. He wasn't cold, per say, but the cocoon of never ending thread and fabric he was wrapping himself in felt far more secure than sitting on the edge of the ambulance alone and exposed. Around the vehicle and house up the street, medics and officers swarmed the area. Behind him, out of eyesight, Wally knew the entirety of his neighbors were accumulating together, scurrying around and murmuring like the gossipy rats they were. No one was by him, and he supposed he should be thankful for that, and so Wally sat in silence, observing the scene unfold.

A young officer, who appeared to be in his early twenties, finished coating the West residence perimeter in fluorescent yellow police tape. He ran over to his (Senior? Boss? Partner?), who was currently talking to a medic and shooed him away. Wally snorted, but his heart wasn't in it.

The officer resembled his Uncle Barry. Speaking of which- where was he? It had been an hour at Ieast. Two? It wasn't like the man was the Flash or anything… He supposed maybe it was for the best. Learning your brother-in-law had shot his wife wasn't exactly grade A news.

"Mr. West?" Someone asked, and Wally glanced over to his right. A young woman with short brown hair dressed in an expensive looking pant suit stood beside the ambulance. Wally nodded. "My name is Emelia Nicholes; I'm with the CCPD." Wally nodded again, and slouched. The isolation, which was far more auspicious than a raid of investigative questions, had officially ended. "Mr. West, can you-"

"Wally." The words left his mouth almost silently, and the lack of reaction from the woman suggested maybe she hadn't heard him.

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

Again, he said his name. "Wally." He'd always hated his last name (on him). He loved Iris'. Iris West-Allen… fit her. It fit Uncle Barry too. Wally wasn't an Allen. Or a Grayson. Or a Kent, or a Wayne or a Harper or a Queen- and he hoped to God he wasn't a West, but God hadn't exactly been on his side.

Despite the many, many colored lights around the block, it was too dark to see, although Wally went ahead and assumed she blushed. "Of course. Wally. Are you able to answer some questions for me?" He wanted to say no, but Emelia Nicholes with the CCPD didn't wait. "Can you explain what happened? In as much detail as possible, please."

Of course he could explain! '_I don't know- can you?_' echoed in his head, and Wally snickered. "Yeah," he mumbled. Then, looking up to meet Emelia Nicholes with the CCPD with a dark glare hidden behind that phoney smirk, Wally continued on. "My dad shot my mom. Then himself. They're dead," he deadpanned. The mirth in his smile was anything but, and the woman knew that as much as Wally.

"We're aware, Wally. Can you tell me what happen just before then? Did anyone say anything?"

"Sure. My dad said he loved me," Wally rolled his eyes. "Then Superman flew in and started moonwalking on our couch."

"Mr. West-"

"Wally!" He screamed. "Wally!" Then blue trauma blanket was on the concrete, and he was standing a good half foot taller than the woman. "It's _Wally_!"

Several people from the nearest sidewalk looked over, and ole' Miss Schmitt (who brings Whiskey over on Christmas) walked towards them. "Wally," she growled out. "Listen to the young lady and answer her questions!" Because apparently babysitting him once when he was 7 made her his step-in mother.

Emelia Nicholes with the CCPD stepped back, and stared back at ole' Miss Schmitt. "Ms, please. Shouting won't help. Wally," she looked back to him. "I just want to know what happened. We want to help you."

_bzz bzz bzz bzz. _His phone rang again, but Wally ignored the call and stepped closer to the young detective.

"No! You don't know _shit_!"

"I know Rudolph West killed his wife and his son knows why," she countered. Her voice was low, sharp, and clipped. It dared Wally to taunt her, come again, just _try_.

Something Roy had rubbed off on him- being a hot head.

"You don't know shit! Shut up! Shut up!" More neighbors had accumulated, and the air grew thin. He'd never been claustrophobic, but everything was just too close. "All of you! You don't know anything! You act all smart like you want to help-"

"I do!" She shouted back, breaking her own '_shouting won't help Ms. Blah blah blah_,' rule.

Wally's voice was louder now. "_No_! No! No one does! If you did, you would've been here before Mom was dead! You would've been here before that asshole killed her! You would've been here before the he loaded the gun! Before he got drunk! Before he yelled and kicked and screamed and slapped me! You would've stopped this! You would've stopped him! You would've taken Mom away because I was too scared to help! _Why _didn't you save her? _Why _didn't you stop him? WHY DON'T YOU _CARE_?" His voice broke, and by the end of his speech Wally was slumped over on the pavement, sobbing into his palms as his fingers clawed at his hair.

An arm wrapped itself around him, then another, and whispers sounding from Barry Allen tried hushed him. "_Shh_. Wally. I'm here. I'm here now bud. _I'm here…_"

His phone rang in his pocket for the umpteenth time. Before Wally could complained, it ended and something small burrowed itself into the crook of his neck. Cries of 'Oh my god, I was so scared.' and 'I called and called but you wouldn't answer.' rang through his ears, and Wally's arms wrapped themselves tightly around Dick Grayson.

He wasn't sure why Dick was crying- the kid had always been a softie he guessed, but Wally took the open invitation of the green hoodie and dark hair and cried as well. Barry was somewhere nearby- Wally could hear his voice, and thank _god_ Barry was there, but… there was something special about Dick Grayson. Something he needed.

"Oh god, Wally. _Oh god…_"

Maybe he wasn't suicidal and maybe he didn't believe everything Rudolph West had called him. Maybe he wasn't a cliche abused teen. Maybe Wally was the happy go-lucky ginger people believed him to be. Maybe he wasn't a orphaned hero who blamed themselves for their parents' deaths. That didn't mean anything. Really- Wally didn't know what he thought. There wasn't a point to pointing that out. There wasn't a significance to his outburst at Emelia Nicholes with the CCPD. There wasn't any life-changing moment with Barry holding him. Dick Grayson was Dick Grayson and there wasn't some underlying message to any of this. Not everything had a special meaning.

He was just a sad little kid who wanted his mom back.

He was Wally West.

Coward Extraordinaire.


	28. Tim Always Walks in on People

**Notes: More 5 sentence prompts :) Some hinted Museum Heist, some hinted Birdflash, some hinted BluePulse- this chapter is basically just crack.**

**Also, on a completely unrelated note, you all should watch "Sala Samobójców," which translates to "Suicide Room" in English. It's a Polish movie (I found a subbed version on Youtube) and I absolutely ADORE it. It contains some heavy triggers of suicide- duh, depression and self harm, but it juggles the topics far better than any other mental disorder movie I've seen. Like, this is super random, but WATCH IT. :)**

* * *

** 1\. Coffee**

"Has anyone seen Nightwing?"

Conner pointed a thumb behind his back. "In the kitchen," he mumbled. Gar raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

"I already chec- oohhh... Wait; why is Nightwing sleeping next to the coffee machine?"

** 2\. Ignore**

Damian trudged up to Tim, clearly annoyed. "Drake, are you aware of West and Grayson's sexual activities taking place upstairs?"

"Ugh, just- just ignore them, Damian."

"I'm quite aware of what said activites are, but-"

"Just _ignore _them_,_ Damian!"

** 3\. Pillow**

Impulse yawned, scrunching his nose up much like his sister used to. Blue Beetle smiled, and turned back to the front of Sphere.

"Mmm, y'know," Bart mumbled. "Your armor makes a _terrible_ pillow."

** 4\. Quiet**

Artemis giggled in a very un-Artemis-like manner, and put a finger to her lips. "_Shh_, we have to be quiet; if we wake Wally up he'll be grumpy."

"Yeah- that means 'no kisses from Mr. Grumpy Pants' forever!" Dick slurred his words as he tried to unlock the trio's apartment.

"You know I can both hear both your drunk asses from in here, right?"

** 5\. Nightmare**

"Hey Bruce, can I-" Tim stopped mid-sentence with his hand still on the doorknob. The two occupants stared embarrassed at Tim for a solid decade before the door was slammed shut.

"WHY ARE YOU SCREWING AROUND WHEN EVERYONE IS HOME?" He screamed. "I'LL HAVE NIGHTMARES FOR WEEKS!"

* * *

**Last one is kind of Bruce x whoever. Poor Timmy- walking in on Bruce D: **

**Thanks for reading! All comments, criticism, dad-jokes, and prompts are much appreciated. :)**


	29. The Great Innuendo War - Part 1

**Mkay, so I have 2 drabbles written for Dick Grayson is a Fanboy, but usually those chapters include around 5 drabbles. I had a burst of inspiration whilst roasting marshmallows at 11pm, and whalah- this arose. I decided to upload this first. **

**For a timeline thing, and connections to other chapters, scroll down to the bottom.**

**This includes Birdflash. I'm sorry if it's not your cup of tea, but dayum is it mine. **

* * *

Honestly? Enough was enough.

That asshole had the nerve to joke about Tim's sexuality 24/7 when that Dick (_literally_) himself was screwing Wally West?

Everyday it was something new! 'Dick, can you pass me salt?' 'Is it because the salt shaker looks like a condom?'

'Dick, can you pass me the remote?' 'You should only watch gay porn in your own room, Timmy.'

'Dick, can you hand me the evidence?' 'Of the case? Or your homosexuality?'

Okay, so _maybe_ he deserved it for locking Netflix away from Dick- but he had a very justifiable reason! He had to take it into his own hands to stop this fanboy demon that possessed his older brother.

But _still._ He was _straight! _Straight! Straighter than an exponential graph, the weirdly Dick Grayson-esque part of his brain chimed; Tim groaned. There was no escaping it. None! His brother lived in Bludhaven, and somehow managed to adopted Batman's mystic powers of being _everywhere_. The gay jokes were more common than Damian's secret Nightwing plushies or Jason's guns or Bruce's (ugh) secret admirers' strangely erotic love letters. At the last thought, Tim shuddered. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up the same moment as his phone rang. Bart.

After a few rings just to annoy the speedster, Tim answered the call. "Hello?" He asked.

"Timmayy! Timbo, my _man_! What's up?"

Said 'man' rolled his eyes. "Plotting world domination. You?"

"Playing some dumb online game," Bart said. Through the speaker Tim could hear the clicking of Bart's ancient keyboard. "Dick's over with Wally and I'm kind of bored so you wanna come over?"

"Umm," he hesitated. "Yeah, I'm free."

"Awesome! Also, could you bring over whipped cream if you have any? And a few tubs of ice cream? Please?" Once one got Bart Allen going, there was no stopping.

Tim sighed, "Sure." It was better to give into the demands. "Wait," he inturrupted himself. "Did you say Dick was over with Wally?"

"Umm...yes? Why? Oh, are we going to team up 2 verses 2 in Mariocart? Can our team name be '_Bartalicious_?'" ...What? The? Hell?

"One- no. And two- I just asking." Tim lifted his phone away from his ear and checked the time. "Give me twenty, I gotta finish some work before heading over to the zetas."

Psh, more like finish plotting Dick Grayson's demise.

* * *

Before his knuckles had brushed the wood, the door swung open. "Timmy! Right on time," Bart greeted. "Well, three minutes early- you smart little man."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "I'm taller than you."

As he followed the _shorter_ of the two towards his room, they passed by his targets. "Hey lil' bro," Dick greeted. Wally raised a hand, but otherwise stayed silent. They sat on the couch (relatively close) and were watching some sort of anime. If Tim heard _one_ more obnoxious anime reference at breakfast...

Tim mumbled a hello back and followed Bart into his room. Well, he followed Bart into a warzone, at least.

"Jesus, Bart. Ever heard of a vacuum?"

"Heh, funny joke, Timbo. First off, I've been looking for this sweatshirt Cassie gave me. It's Doctor Who," Tim groaned, "and I really wanted to show it to Wally because he thinks all I do is obsess over-" Tim cut him off.

"No, keep your freak fangirling to yourself and the girls."

"And Wing?"

"...And Wing."

"Okay! Also, I'd need to get this crap off my floor to vacuum, but I don't have a butler!"

The raven haired teen shook his head. "Alfred's more than just a house maid," he mumbled. Maybe he should die his hair red? 'Cuz, robins are red? Then people would stop confusing him with that new meta chick running on the streets. His hair wasn't even raven. It was like... black? Yeah. Black; just black. Not ebony, or raven or anything remotely emo sounding. He was just a black haired teen. Bart was already talking when he focused his attention back on the speedster, and Tim didn't catch the first few words.

"...make food. You remember those mashed potatoes he mad last month? With all that chef-y stuff inside? Yeah, those were-"

Bart was interrupted by a knock on his open door. Dick Grayson stood there, smiling. "Me and Wally are heading out. Call me if you need anything."

Both boys nodded, familiar with 't_he drill_' and didn't reply as Dick walked out the door, pulling it closed behind him. "Oh!" His head popped out from behind the wood. "No parties. And... don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Before the acrobat could make his exit, Tim smirked. "So gay sex is an okay, then?"

Bart stared at his best friend incredulously, while Dick began a coughing fit. Tim could heard Wally hacking up in the hallway as well. "Umm..." his tongue tripped over itself, and Dick couldn't seem to form words. "Bye," he muttered, and slammed the door shut.

Not two seconds later, another slam came from the front door, followed by a red truck speeding out of the driveway. Bart's eyes slowly shrunk to their normal size again, before letting out a chuckling. At the strange but fitting cocky smirk on his friend's face, he laughed even harder.

Eventually, when both (mainly Bart) had calmed down, Tim informed him of his plan.

Oh it was show time, alright.

If Dick didn't want to play nice, neither was Tim. Those gay jokes came with a price, and both were going to do their damned best to get the other to admit their sexuality sans straight analogies. Seeing as how Dick was _literally_ screwing Wally West, and Tim was, well, he wasn't screwing _anyone_, this would be easy. Still, he was going to make this hell for his brother. He wasn't going to shut out those mischievous Jason and demonic Damian voices in his head anymore. This was war. He was going to fight that little campfire with a freaking explosion.

* * *

"Hey, Tim? What kind of ice cream do you want Alfie to pick up at the store?" Dick leaned over the back of the couch, resting his forearms on the cushions with clasped hands.

It had been almost week since Tim's unexpected jab; things seemed normal. Well, aside from the fact that Dick kept using the library to read his young adult best selling drama novels and wouldn't let anyone in. Had he been using the batcomputer for Netflix or the screening room for movies, Tim could've barged in at any time to taunt his older brother. However, with Dick reading _Twilight_ ("Really, Dick?" "I _know_, but I have to. It's like... a thing." "Yeah, maybe in 2009." and _The Hunger Games (_Because the 20 year old didn't read it back when it was 2012 when he was a hormonal 15 year old like every other fan.) and all that jazz, Tim hardly got close enough to say anything lower than a shout.

"Hmm? Oh, I thought we were getting popsicles," he replied, and turned a page in his book. (Okay, he could read, because that was who he was. Tim Drake was the bookworm, not Dick Grayson.)

"Why?"

"I don't know, you just seem to like _eating_ them so much, _especially_ the red and yellow ones. Are they cherry and banana? I hate banana, but cherry's okay. And strawberry... Dick?"

He wasn't sure if his brother had heard that last part, because his face was ghostly pale. Tim called out his name again, and an awkward coughing noise escaped Dick's mouth. After a short few seconds, he cleared his throat as a blush crept its way up his face. "I'll, uh," at his fumble, Tim fought the urge to smile. "I'll tell him to get both then. Cookie dough ice cream and cherry and strawberry popsicles.

"Banana too. I'll let you have the yellow and red so you don't steal mine. Don't worry, I won't-"

Before Tim could finish his somewhat subtle jab, Dick had sprinted out of the room. ("No running with your socks on, Master Dick!" "Sorry Alfie!")

Oh yeah, Tim could get used to this.

_Game on._

* * *

**A lot of my oneshots and drabbles are starting to connect slowly, in case you haven't noticed. This is basically the same Universe Thingamajig as Dick Grayson is a Fanboy, Dick's Gaydar (ft. Closet Jokes), Bart's Adventurous Adventures in Fandoms, and any (or all if you want) of the 5-sentence drabbles in Tim Always Walks in on People. (Chapters 16, 17, 20, 23, 24, and 28.)**


	30. Dick Grayson is a Fanboy: Books!

**Requested by: Angry-Nerd-Girl and NAVSO311**

**Notes: ****The following fandoms are (in order): Death Note pt 2, Fullmetal Alchemist, Hunger Games, Harry Potter, and Twilight.**

**All mistakes are on me.**

**If I insult your Twihard ways, I'm... honestly not that sorry.**

* * *

"Bro." Wally snaked his head around the corner of the front door of Dick's new apartment.

Dick, who was seated like a toddler with two feet on his arm chair, looked at the intruder. "Hmm? Oh, hey Wally."

Oh _hell_ no, Dick wasn't going to 'Hey Wally,' him. "You stole my cake."

An eyebrow raised as Wally shut the door. "No, I didn't."

The red head dropped his arms to his sides. "It's in your hand," he deadpanned. "And what's up with your hair? It's like- did you ride that new coaster at Six Flags without me?" Wally's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "You didn't..."

In a very overly dramatic way, Dick gasped. "No. No! I would _never_! I'm just..." his voice trailed off. Awkwardly, his hand shakily pointed to the TV screen currently displaying the Netflix logo. "I'm working on a cosplay for L."

"Loki?"

"No."

"Lex Luthor?"

"No."

"...La'gaan?"

"Wha- _no_!" Dick huffed and pointed to the couch adjacent to him. "Sit down; you work tomorrow?"

Wally shook his head, "Not till Sunday. Why?" When Dick's response was to simply reach for the remote, he chose to comply and sat down.

"Mmm, no. You gotta get comfy," the younger scolded.

"Oh! Sleepover! Sweet!" And yes, Wally was in fact an adult.

Three days later, Tim entered the mountain to see Wally in a modified Gotham Academy uniform- pulling off an impressive Damian Wayne impression- and Dick sitting like a freak show with his hair all over the place.

Sighing, he passed them to enter the kitchen. "If you won't get a haircut, at least don't _try_ to tame that beast.

Dick didn't answer, and took another bite of his cake.

Cassie chose that moment to waltz in dressed up like some leather wearing emo supermodel, giggling. "How's this?" She asked.

* * *

Tim coughed, and when the white hot pain seered up his body straight to his sides, he winced. So, coughing wasn't a good idea. Beside him sat Bart, who was sporting an impressive looking gash along his left cheek and neck. Although the cut would heal rather quickly, there was no doubt Bart would be feeling his other injuries the next day. Similar to Tim, Bart's left side was heavily bandaged to cover the burnt flesh and exposed bones.

Okay, so the 'exposed bones' comment was an exaggeration, but that didn't discredit the fact that Tim's body hurt like _hell_. If this is what Satan's kingdom resembled, then Tim better find heaven real quick because his entire existence was pure torture. Or, at least, learn Jason's secret to dealing with being blow to bits.

"-bin?"

Tim frowned. "What?"

"I said 'Robin,'" Bart clarified. "BC said Nightwing was awake- if you want to see him, that is."

Oh god. Nightwing. Dick.

The explosion sucked ass, and all of the mission-goers knew it, but not as much as Dick Grayson. Nightwing, oh so valiant leader Nightwing, had told the squad to 'stay outside. I'll be back really soon. Don't follow. At all. This is dangerous. Stay here. Outside. Not inside. Out. Side. Blah blah blah blah.' Not five seconds after he ran into the building, the explosions started. One after the other.

"Wing?" Tim asked as he walked into the room. On the infirmary bed lay Dick Grayson, wrapped up like a perfectionist mummy on Halloween. His right arm was in think bandages, and from the discoloration of white to red, he knew they'd be replaced by a cast real soon.

"We're alone, Timmy," he said, to which Tim responded with Nightwing's real name. "RT says I'm pretty busted up."

"No shit," Tim mumbled to himself. "What happened to your arm?" He asked, nudging his head towards the appendage.

"Got caught in an explosion." Dick smirked. "RT says I'll be fine, but I think I'm going to lose it."

"..._What_?!"

"Yeah, I'll have to get some automail."

"You're... you're kidding, right?"

"Don't worry, you won't lose your body, Timmy."

It was that last comment that caused Tim to step back metaphorically, and look at the situation. "Tornado said you're fine."

"Yeah."

"So why amputate it?"

"Because it's the only way I can become Ed. Alchemy doesn't exactly exist here..."

"Become E-" He paused.

Que sigh of disappointment.

"Ed's not real is he?"

"Nah, but we'd make some pretty good Elrics, wouldn't we? Jason's more of an Edward than I, but he told me to quote en quote 'shut the hell up, Dickhead.'"

For once, Tim didn't disagree with Jason.

* * *

"HUNGAH GAAAMES!" Dick shrieked, and (literally) jumped on Bruce's back.

Tim, who had been sparring with Jason across the Batcave, sighed. At least he knew what Dick was fanboying about this time.

Before Bruce could growl at his supposedly 'mature' eldest son, Dick jumped off and looked over at his brothers. "So, I was thinking. Okay, get with me. Alright, so, I was thinking about Hunger Games because I just reread the series and like, I had this amazing idea. It was like 3am and it just came to. Not literally, but it-"

"_Richard_."

"Right, right. Anyway, so, we are totally characters from the Hunger Games."

Jason pulled the classic are-you-serious face. "Really, Dick? _Really_?"

"Wait! No, no! Jason don't you leave I know where you live!"

By the time Dick had succeed in rounding up Damian and Alfred along with tying Jason to a chair attached to the floor, Tim really just wanted to go to sleep.

"Mkay, so Bruce is from District 1 'cause he's all rich and fancy shmancy. Jason's District 2 because he's all about weapons- and shhh Jason shut up- and he's good at stealing expensive things. Tim, you're District 3. You're a nerd."

For a moment, Tim honestly thought Dick would continue this for _all_ 13 districts, but luckily fate was on his side.

"Dami is District 5, because legit his life goal is just _p__ower_." For added effect, Dick put his hands up and spread them apart to signify the boldness of the word 'power.' Alfie's from District 11 because they're agriculture and without him we'd starve and die."

After an awkward moment of silence, Tim spoke up. "And you?"

"Oh. Umm,"

Jason cut in. "Dickie's in District 8 because they're textiles and he basically worships spandex."

"I don't worship spandex!"

"You're wearing a freaking spandex suit with your ass hanging out like some stripper!"

If the comment hadn't been jabbed at him so much, maybe Dick would've blushed. _Maybe_.

* * *

When Tim Drake walked in to the mountain on a fine Saturday afternoon, he hadn't expected to see Bart run up dressed like a Hogwarts student. _This_ was why he was called here?

Jaime followed the speedster, dressed in the same attire, and waved to Tim. "Hey, Robin. We've got a uniform for you."

Tim looked at the familiar red and yellow tie adorning their, and Cassie's who was flying towards them, necks. "Is this a Gryffindor party or something?"

"Nightwing gave Bart some books a few weeks ago and then he gave them to me and the I gave them to Cass and she gave them to Megan and I think Gar is still on book 4 so don't spoil anything."

Cassie nodded and jumped in. "We made everyone take the Pottermore Sorting quiz and now everyone's been devided into houses."

"We're having a paaar-taay! So. Crash!"

Basically: Nightwing's annoying, read Harry Potter, made Bart read Harry potter, now everyone's turning into fanboys and girls like his brother.

As he walked further into the mountain, Tim noticed Karen dressed as a Ravenclaw making out with Mal who was a Gryffindor. Artemis, who was a Slytherin, was arguing with Wally, a Gryffindor, while Megan, a Hufflepuff, was doing...something... with La'gaan, a Gryffindor.

Well, Tim later learned la'gaan was a Slytherin but Artemis had kicked him in the balls so he wasn't anymore.

Conner was a Gryffindor, Barbara was a Ravenclaw, Kaldur was a Ravenclaw, Wolf was wearing a Gryffindor tie (?), Zatanna and Rocket were Gryffindors, Tye and Virgil were Gryffindors, and Gar was a Gryffindor. Surprise!

Dick was ...Gryffindor? (Barbara was trying to shove a yellow tie on him.) Apparently he was Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

Basically everyone was Gryffindor because they were a bunch of teenage/ young adult superheroes and when the Gryffindors started fighting everyone else Tim decided to leave.

Then, Barbara slapped a pie in Dick's face and tossed Tim a Ravenclaw tie. "Robin! Join us!" Artemis handed him a pie and Tim figured maybe he could stay a little longer.

* * *

On his bed sat the first of Stephanie Meyer's _Twilight_ series. Neatly tied up with a red ribbon, and a note from La'gaan that said 'Read my favorite series!' Dick looked at the thick, hardcover book and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, _no_."

* * *

**I'm working on a request from 4thwallvigilante for Tim to give Dick a taste of his own medicine and be an annoying fanboy back. I've only got a couple fandom ideas though, and would love some suggestions. (Any type, movie, book, anime, bands, tv show, etc. will do.) That'll be up next.**

**Thanks for reading! I'm taking requests and prompts still, so any ideas (for any ship) are welcome. :)**


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Young Justice, Humor