Residue of a Torturer Inside of Your Eyes: An Emo Quartet/DC fanfic

Nightmares and....Nightwing?!

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS CUSSING. YOU CAN SKIP IT IF YOU WANT TO.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

*Damian's P.O.V*
Time: 1:15 AM
Date: Saturday, Oct. 27, 2019

I opened my eyes to find that I was in a dark room, strapped to a chair
"Hello?" I called out. "Barbra? Dick? Jason?"
I tried to move my hands but I couldn't.
What the hell is going on? I thought.
Then music came on. I'd never heard this song before.
I started to lip synch along and was immediately hypnotized.
Just as I came to the pre-chorus, I went numb. I couldn't feel anything at all.
I felt that same cold feeling from before...
What's going on? I thought.
I started struggling out of fear.
As soon as the song ended I blacked out from exhaustion.
I was only out for exactly 6 minutes and 30 seconds when intense, fiery pain suddenly ripped through me, enough to make me come to.
I bolted up in the chair, screaming in agony.
The pain subsided, leaving me gasping.
'What's your name?" A voice asked. I was too focused on trying not to black out again that I didn't recognize the voice.
The fire returned, more ferocious than ever.
"D-damian. Damian Wayne."
Even saying my own name hurt.
"And what do you want most, Damian?"
"I-I want to g-get out of, of here." I replied.
Then, pain. Blinding white pain.
I screamed again.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now don't answer like that again or there will be consequences." The voice threatened.
The pain continued. I screamed and screamed.
I wanted it to end so, so badly. And, it did.
I bolted up in bed panting hard.
Oh thank goodness! I thought. I was so glad I woke up from that nightmare.
I got up and headed to the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it and stood there for a few minutes.
If I closed my eyes I could still remember the fiery pain I so badly wanted to forget.
I went over to the mirror and looked at it.
I saw a 10 year old boy with black hair that was all over the place, pale skin, and green, bloodshot eyes.
I gripped the rim of the sink and dug my nails in.
I told myself it was just a nightmare and nightmares and dreams weren't real.
"So why do I still feel the pain?" I asked myself.
For this, I didn't have an answer.
I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it.
Going back to bed wasn't an option and I didn't want to wake the others up. That left my third and final option: starting my investigation into Mr. Urie.
I went into my bedroom to gather my detectives notebook, the 'Welcome to Wayne Prep!' booklet and my detectives kit, then made my way to the library.
Once I got there, I  pushed the huge oak doors open, found a seat in front of the roaring fire, opened the booklet, and began reading.
On the front, it said: 'Welcome to Wayne Prepatory High School!' In bold underline.
Under the title, it had various photos of students laughing and talking, the front of the school, and teachers teaching.
One of them caught my eye. It was...Mr. Urie?
"Impossible!" I muttered.
But I couldn't deny what was right in front of me.
There, in the top right corner, was a photo of Mr. Urie. It must've been his yearbook photo because he was dressed in a tux with a white button up shirt and not a black one.
I opened the booklet and began to read.
I skipped the parts on the school's history, the classes, and reviews. After 30 minutes of searching, I finally got to the part about Mr. Urie.
'We are proud to have Brendon Urie teaching Music at Wayne Prep this year!
Mr. Urie is originally from Las Vegas and is the singer/ songwriter for the band Panic At The Disco!
He doesn't teach very often, but he came out of retirement just to teach here at Wayne Prep.
I stopped reading and put the pamphlet down and began to think.
He wouldn't come out of retirement just to teach for some school in Gotham City. No, no, no. There's got to be another reason. But what?
Suddenly, Nightwing burst in to the library.
"What in the world are you doing?!" He shouted.
"What do you mean?" I replied, setting the Wayne Prep pamphlet down on the messy table in front of me.
"Well, for one thing, Gotham City Bank is being robbed and your just sitting on your lazy ass reading!"
"Well at least I'm not bursting into a room and insulting people on the spot." I shot back.
Dick grew angry.
"You probably woke everyone else up with the racket your making. And, let's not forget, you forgot to knock."
Dick lunged at me.
"Why you little motherfucking jerk!" He yelled as he tackled me to the floor.
"Get off me, Grayson!" I growled.
"Not until you learned your lesson, you little motherfucker!" He spat back.
If you really want it this way. I thought.
I didn't want to fight him but if he was acting like this, then I had no choice.
I gathered my legs beneath me, and kicked him off.
Dick flew across the room and slammed into one of the bookcases that lined the wall.
"Dick, I don't want to do this." I said, standing up.
"Oh sure you do." He replied.
"You know you want to drive that sword into my heart, you just don't realize it yet."
"N-n-no I don't." I stuttered. He was right, but I didn't kill anymore. I'd only do it if everyone else lived. And this wasn't one of those situations.
He smirked and lunged at me again with his Escrima Sticks.
My eyes widened in horror and surprise.
I'd seen those before and what they did to criminals.
They got knocked clean off their feet. And they were headed straight for me.
At that time Bruce burst in.
I'd never felt more relieved in my life to see him.
He stopped clear in his tracks when he saw Dick coming at me.
"Dad, over here!" I yelled at him.
Bruce rushed over and grabbed Dick's shirt collar.
"Dick, get off Damian this instant!" He growled.
Bruce dragged a struggling Dick off me and over to a table.
Barbra, Jason, and Kate burst in, looking around frantically.
"Jason, hold Dick down before he murders Damian." Bruce instructed.
Jason did what Bruce said.
He then turned his attention to me.
"Damian, are you alright?" He asked.
"Yeah." I replied. "Just a little surprised, that's all."
I walked over to Dick. He face was contorted in rage.
"Let me kill 'em! He deserves it!" He yelled in rage.
"May I see him?" I asked Jason.
He nodded and moved his arm.
"Why? Why did you try and kill me.
"What do you mean?" Dick groaned.
His eyes had returned to normal, but I could've sworn they were caramel brown only a few seconds ago....
"Jason can you get off me, please?" Dick asked. "I'm actually suffocating, here."
Jason sighed but got off anyways.
Dick looked around.
"Why is Bruce glaring at me?" He whispered to me.
"Oh well, you 1. tackled me to the ground, 2. insulted me, and 3. you threatened to kill me, that's why." I retorted.
Dick's eyes were wide.
"I did?" He asked.
"Yeah, you did." I glared.
A few minutes later we were all seated around a small coffee table and I was telling Dick the whole story of why we were all mad at him.
"So I was up late studying and you just burst into the library." I said.
"You said: 'What in the world are you doing?!' to which I replied: 'What do you mean?'. You said: 'Well, for one thing, Gotham City Bank is being robbed and your just sitting on your lazy ass reading!'." I paused.
Dick was speechless.
"I said all that?" He squeaked.
"Unfortunately." Jason muttered, earning a glare from Bruce.
"To which I replied: 'You probably woke everyone else up with the racket your making. And, let's not forget, you forgot to knock.' And you got angry. You lunged at me and replied: 'Why you little motherfucking jerk!'."
I paused to catch my breath.
Dick, meanwhile, was...shocked, to say the least. He turned to look at me with sorrow in his eyes.
"I am so, so sorry." He said. "I don't know what happened, honestly. I burst in with the intention of looking for you and telling you that Gotham City Bank had just been robbed. I suddenly felt really, really weird. I went numb and that's all I remember."
We all stared at him.
"What do you mean that's all you remember?" Bruce asked.
Now I understood Dick's response to what I'd told him. He didn't know that he had said or done all those things. He was innocent but, more importantly, now I knew who was behind all this.
My very own teacher
Mr. Brendon Boyd Urie.