Fight or Flight? : A Damian Wayne Book

>Chapter 5<

W/N: Guys, I'm giving you another chapter as an apology for missing a few days, as well as a way to keep myself occupied, and not watching Netflix. Plus, this chapter is when it all starts, so I need to get a part of it up... Enjoy!

Damian looked up at Gotham Academy in front of him, trying to take in the huge building, into his memory. All around him, was a usually lush lawn, that now had fallen, colorful leaves and brown grass, with a stoned walkway, and tall, brick structures connecting to a part of the school  to the left of him. Benches were stationed around the lawn, and students sat reading and talking with each other, avoiding Damian, which was the first and only thing he liked. Readjusting the collar on his Gotham Academy issued shirt, the young Wayne looked back down, at the clothes he was wearing. The clothes Damian had on his back, were far from what he enjoyed. Instead of the normal, comfortable, black sweatshirt and jeans, the Bird was wearing a blue jacket with Gotham Academy's logo on it, a long sleeved white collared shirt underneath, with a blue tie to match the jacket. His pants were tan, and were pressed and stiff, to the teen who's main adoration, was movement. Even his shoes, were a sleek pair of black Oxford's, that didn't allow for him to have much room for running. As he stared at the clothes, he muttered, "Grayson is so dead. These are the worst clothes I have ever felt. Why did he not warn me?", then he sucked in a deep breath, and entered through the front doors. 

When Damian opened the doors, he was met with a giant crowd of people, who all seemed to be frantic to get to their classes. Thankfully, since Damian was only 4'6, he could duck through the crowd, without having to utter a single word, to the other, much taller teens, but that's not how he handled the situation. Pushing two of the teens in front of him out of the way, he growled, "Get out of my way.", then when the rest of the crowd seeped inward, Damian yelled, "GET OUT OF MY WAY!", even louder than he previously had. The crowd of teens, when they heard him, moved quickly out of the way, so he could pass. The whole hall was stunned silent, as they watched him with their wide eyes, as he stalked down the hall, his heavy backpack on his shoulders, even though to the other teens, it was hardly recognizable that it was heavy for Damian. As soon as he made it to his locker, which was located next to Tim's, Damian entered in the combination, and opened the metal locker.  Putting his books in, as well as a small, sharp knife, he dug around, and soon heard the sound of the locker beside him slam shut. Turning around, he saw Tim smiling at him, his broken arm still in its cast. He said, "Damian, I see you finally gave into Bruce's request to come here. That's awesome. Want me to show ya around?" "Drake, just leave me alone.", Damian growled angrily. Tim spoke up, a few seconds later, "Are you sure, Damian, that I can't show you around? I know this place better than anyone!" Do you not have anywhere else to be, than beside me? I do not need a tour guide!", Damian snapped, even though he was trying to keep the assassin in him hidden. He knew he could take care of himself far better than anyone else, considering he knew who he was. When he didn't get a reply, he slammed his locker closed, and headed down the hall to the principal's office, leaving Tim without another word. 

Knocking promptly on the door a minute later, Damian watched the door open, to reveal a middle sized man with grey eyes, brown hair and a beard, who was smiling. He was wearing a black suit, and had dimples when he smiled. Damian introduced himself, then heard the man say, "Come on in, please.", and the door opened wider. The Bird stepped into the room, his head held high, as he took a seat opposite of the desk in the room. The man took the seat behind the desk, and said, "First off, let me be the first to officially welcome you, Damian, to Gotham Academy. My name is Mr. Petters. Your father called me about your current situation, and we discussed what would be best to do for you. As a student here, we agreed you are expected to be in class and to participate. Class assignments and homework will be due, but if something does come up, we, as a school, allow for one lenient assignment a month per student, so use it wisely. Gym is required, as well as one extracurricular. From the age you are at, it appears you will be in Ms. Crabbe's class." When the man finished talking, and held out his hand, Damian stood and shook it like he had been told to, and gave a very odd smile, which felt weird to him. He watched as Mr. Petters stepped out of the room, then gestured for him to follow. The Bird did as requested, knowing that even though he could easily take the man down and kill him, to avoid the burden, his father wouldn't agree to it, as his grandfather or mother might. As they walked, Damian observed the school in more detail. Everyone seemed to be well acquainted with each other, that the Bird knew it was no wonder that Gotham Academy was where Dick had learned to be his cheery, talking self. 

Finally reaching a classroom on the left, Mr. Petters knocked, and pushed open the door, and said, "Ms. Crabbe, I have your new student with me. This is Damian Wayne. He will be attending Gotham Academy for the remaining months of this year." When the short, raven haired, green eyed assassin looked at the teacher he was going to have, he didn't utter a word, and only gave a single nod. Ms. Crabbe replied, "Thank you, Petters. We'll get him situated, and I will make sure the rest of the class gives him a warm welcome, when they arrive." Mr. Petters nodded, then left the room, and closed the door behind him. When the door closed, Ms. Crabbe said, "You can sit in the front row, Damian, until the others arrive. Feel free to get yourself situated." The Bird answered curtly, "I would rather sit in the back, if I may." The woman nodded, and Damian slid into the back row, opened "The Odyssey", and continued to read it, from where he had been interrupted earlier in the week. As he read the swordfight again, he smirked. That, he knew, was where he truly belonged. Not in a school for the socially inclined, but in a swordfight, back in the mountains, with the League of Shadows.