Young Justice Trash

Terrible Day (Sequel & Epilogue)

-Thanks to everyone who wanted this. Sorry if it doesn't live up to expectation, I had writer's block-

Bruce was not happy to see his son, sitting in the medbay, ice presseed to his torso. He made the team leave before he even said a word. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Robin, what happened?"

"I'm fine." He groaned, but Bruce wasn't buying it. "Fine, I got jumped after school by some muggers, I fought back, and they beat me down."

"They didn't take your watch?"

"It was hidden under my sleave."

"Your phone and wallet?"

"Well, maybe they weren't actually trying to rob me, maybe they just wanted a new punching bag..."

"Dick."

The boy sighed; he knew the jig was up. "Yeah?"

"Tell me what happened."

"Okay..." He gulped and steadied his breathing completely. A surreal calm was overtaking him. "Promise you won't freak out? Well... it happened at school. I was going to my locker, and this guys was bothering me, and I tripped down the stairs." He drastically changed his story halfway through.

It didn't convince his adoptive father. "Did he hit you?"

"No- he..." Dick caught a glare. "OKay, yes! He did."

"Dick, What actually happened?"

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"How badly was he hurt?" Wally pried. "Is it bad?"

"Kid, you know I can't tell you." The team leader repeated. "I promised Robin that anything he told me was confidential."

"I know, just... this happens sometimes, and he never tells me why!" The redhead admitted. He seperated from the group, pacing a little on his phone. A low shout caught his attention. Wally rested his ear against the medbay door.

"How long has this been happening?" Bruce's (Not Batman's) voice barked.

"Not long, I swear!"

"When were you going to tell me about this?"

Dick's voice was spluttering for an answer. "I promise, I was going to, once I felt better..."

There was a deafening sigh of frustration. "What did he say?"

"It's not important!"

Wally lost his balance, falling into the door. It wasn't locked. HE looked up as it noisily swung open and rebounded off the wall.

All he could think to say was "Hey."

"Hey." Dick looked upset.

"You good?"

"ya." Dick replied curtly.

"Can we talk about it?"

"Later, Wally. Later."

"Oh, okay, coolio, seeya. Bye..."He backed out, slamming the door shut after him. Totally played that off.

Bruce turned back to his son. "What did this kid call you?"

Dick bit his lips. "I'm not supposed to repeat them. They're... Bad."

"You won't get in trouble. You can write them down." He said.

Dick took a notepad off the side table and started writing, slowly. The only words Bruce saw him write were 'Faggot, Cocksucker, Gyp,' and 'retard', he started to write more, but he got angry and tore the page out.

Dick crumpled the page in his fist, trying to calm himself down. He breathed slowly and imagined a world where he didn't have to have this interaction. He needed to control his emotions in times like this.

"There were others?" Bruce ordered. "Dick, are there others?"

"Please don't! They're not important!" He begged "It's nothing! He didn't even using slurs until grade seven!"

"Dick. how long has he been going this? Tell Me The Truth."

"...Fourth grade..." he muttered.

Bruce lost it. "That's the year you started school! You've never told me?"

"I know! I know! But I didn't care back then, I didn't even know it was bad!" That didn't help. "Please, I don't want trouble! Do you know what people think of kids who run and cry to their parents?" 

To Dick, continuing in silence was better than speaking out and facing the retalliation. If Aiden found out he'd told, Dick might as well tie a target to his back and openly flirt with boys.

"Dick, we need to do something about this." Bruce warned. "I will get this Boy expelled for you, ANYTHING."

"I Know, but, can't we keep this... low-key?" He asked, a little ashamed to have told Bruce.  "Like, lodge a complaint or something?" He knew that didn't work, he'd tried.

"Dick, in the past five years, hasn't a single teacher, or adult noticed? Haven't you told ANYONE?"

Dick didn't know how much information to share. "Well, there was no evidence anything happened, so I didn't really..."

"No Evidence?" His father exclaimed. "Dick, look at yourself. You're covered in injuries."

"I can't show 'em! How would I explain the stab wounds? Besides... Last time I tried they asked if you were treating me okay at home-" He slapped his hand over his lips. 

"What?" His father was furious, His son had tried to report bullying and instead was emotionally blackmailed into silence. This was beyone one asshole kid; this was a whole asshole school system.

Bruce left shortly after, needing to take care of some business. Dick refused to come, he needed to process in a place that wasn't the manor. He was still sniffling when he finally re-dressed himself and limped into the livingroom, faking a lopsided smile.

Conner still had his hands viciously pressed over his ears, he really didn't need to hear about Robin's medical issues. Wally, however, spang on Dick the second he entered.

"Rob, what is it? Tell me! Are you hurt?"

"Wally, please." He uttered, exhaustedly. "LATER later. Can't we just do something normal? watch TV or something?"

"Oh." Wally said. "Uh, yeah, sure, man." He put on the TV, ushering Dick onto the couch. Artemis lowered the lights a little, they assembled around him as reassuringly as possible. No one even brought up their concerns, just letting him have a few minutes of calm before Batman came back to collect him. After a couple episode's of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Wally nudged Dick gently, the boy was half-asleep. "Hey, Dude?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, you..." He sighed. "You don't have to tell me what happened."

Dick nodded sleepily. "Okay. Maybe later."

Wally realized Dick was basically asleep, unnable to hear his apologies. "Okay, rest up, Rob."