Blackbird

THE FIRST DAY

I was thrust into the dark embrace of the League of Assassins from birth, their merciless training shaping my early years. For three long years, I was forged in their shadowy crucible. Then, fate intervened in the form of Bruce Wayne—a savior who ripped me from their grasp. United as Batman and Robin, we waged a relentless battle against the League's formidable leader, Ra's al Ghul, and the sinister Scarecrow, each confrontation a struggle to protect my newfound home from imminent peril. For the past three years, I have been more than just Robin, the Dark Knight's sidekick; I have been Bryce Cooper, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne.
Alfaris signing off

2007
Wayne manor

Bryce was sound asleep in his room in the penthouse when the door creaked open, and a warm light flooded the space. The sudden brightness stirred him, but he kept his eyes closed, hoping to steal a few more moments of rest.

"Time to wake up, Master Bryce," Alfred's familiar voice called out as he briskly pulled back the heavy curtains, letting in the morning sun. The boy groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"It's your first day of school; you need to wake up," Alfred reminded him, a touch of firmness in his tone.

With a reluctant sigh, Bryce sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Where's Bruce?" he mumbled, still half-asleep.

"He's on his way back from patrol," Alfred replied, smoothing out the bedcovers. "He mentioned you can join him tonight if you're up for it."

Bryce's expression brightened for a moment before he remembered his lingering frustration. "I'm still mad I couldn't go last night."

"You needed to be well-rested for today," Alfred explained patiently, adjusting Bryce's pillow. "Now, up you get. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

With that, Alfred gave a small, encouraging nod before leaving the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
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Once Bryce had put on his uniform, he headed downstairs for breakfast. The aroma of fresh coffee and toast greeted him as he entered the dining room. Bruce was already there, seated at the table with the morning paper in hand. As Bryce took a seat, Bruce glanced up, immediately noticing the discontent on the boy's face.

"Hilltop Elementary is temporary," Bruce said, attempting to reassure him.

"Yeah, so very temporary," Bryce replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'm gonna be there until seventh grade."

"And then you'll get to go to Gotham Academy," Bruce added, trying to lighten the mood.

Bryce wasn't convinced. "Can't I go somewhere more challenging? Somewhere that might actually push me?"

"Like where?" Bruce asked, setting the paper aside.

"I was talking to Tony, and he told me about the school he went to—Surline. It sounded interesting," Bryce suggested, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"That's in Malibu. Absolutely not," Bruce said, his tone firm.

"Come on, it could be good for me," Bryce pleaded.

"No," Bruce repeated, more definitively.

"Fine," Bryce huffed, crossing his arms.

Bruce sighed, softening his approach. "Bryce, it's not that I don't want to send you somewhere else. But I can't."

"Why not? What about Brentwood?" Bryce asked, still searching for an alternative.

"Brentwood Academy is a disciplinary school. You don't choose to go there; you're sent there if you get in trouble," Bruce explained.

"Okay, what about Ander Prep?" Bryce suggested, his last-ditch effort.

"They only accept students they deem exceptional, and since you've never been to school, they don't have enough to go on," Bruce replied.

Bryce sighed in defeat. "Fine, I guess I'm stuck with Hilltop then."

"It'll be okay," Bruce said, giving him an encouraging smile.

Just then, Alfred entered the room. "Are you both ready?" he asked, glancing between the two.

"I guess," Bryce muttered as he stood up, heading toward the door with a resigned expression.
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Alfred drove them to Hilltop Elementary, the car gliding smoothly through the quiet morning streets. When they finally arrived, he pulled up in front of the school and brought the car to a stop.

Bruce turned to Bryce, concern evident in his eyes. "Do you want me to walk you in?" he offered.

Bryce shook his head, his voice firm but a bit softer than before. "No, I can find my way," he said, grabbing his backpack and opening the door.

As Bryce stepped out of the car, Bruce leaned over slightly. "Have a good first day, son," he said, his tone gentle and sincere.

Bryce paused for a moment, a wave of guilt washing over him. He realized how ungrateful he had been earlier. "Thank you," he replied, his voice quieter, a hint of regret in his words.

He shut the car door behind him, the brief hesitation still weighing on him as he walked toward the school.
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Bryce entered the classroom, his nerves prickling as he noticed groups of kids already talking and making friends. The room buzzed with excitement, and for a moment, he felt out of place. Before he could dwell on it, a friendly-looking woman approached him.

"You must be Bryce. It's nice to meet you," the teacher said with a warm smile.

"You too," Bryce replied, doing his best to sound as casual and age-appropriate as possible.

"Your seat is right over here. Let me show you," she said, leading him through the room. They stopped at a table that was mostly empty, except for one boy who was quietly fiddling with his pencil. "Here you are," she said before returning to her duties.

Bryce sat down across from the boy, who looked up as he settled into his chair.

"Hi, I'm Bryce. What's your name?" Bryce asked, trying to sound friendly and confident.

"I'm Alex," the boy replied with a small smile, meeting Bryce's gaze.