Black & Red (Young Justice/Batman Fiction)

Chapter 3

Author's Note: Hey! I'm sad that I haven't heard from a single person, but that's okay. This story is done and I do plan to post the whole thing. I don't believe in holding stories hostage, lol. I'd love to hear some thoughts and opinions though. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

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I enter the Bat Cave to see the Boy Wonder doing a made-up parallel bars routine. He does six handstands in a row, swinging under the bar up into a handstand, flipping over the bar and landing in handstand position, swinging under, handstand, flipping over, handstand... I shake my head. Fucking show-off; circus boy never gets enough of throwing hard tricks and having someone clap for him. Bruce is watching, arms folded over his chest, and I'm a little pissed.

It's been a few days since Dick's had a fever and, after a check-up yesterday, Dr. Leslie said that Dick could do some light training. This is not light. Yeah, so this might mean Bruce is planning on flying Robin much sooner than Dr. Leslie will approve of, meaning Falcon will fly sooner, too, but dammit, Bruce. Dickie-bird's still got those dark circles under his eyes and I heard him throwing up after dinner last night. I don't want him out there for another sicko-freak to hurt because he can't bring his "A" game.

It just... Bruce puts Batman and the world before us—even his golden child doesn't get to pull a number before Batman and the world do. Dick says he understands, but it hurts him a lot when Bruce ain't here to go to his school stuff or join us for dinner. I get sick of seeing his moon eyes and his phony "Oh well" smiles. I want to kick Bruce's ass. I don't care if Bruce doesn't come to open houses and parent conferences or to dinner, but I do care when he hurts my bro.

Dick dismounts with a perfect double somersault, probably not up to his quad yet. He lands with his feet together and only a slight buckling at the knees, but from where I can see him, he's drenched in sweat. How long's he been at this? Bruce kept him out of school again today—I thought—to rest him up, but this ain't rest.

"How'd I do, Jay?"

I blink. Dick is looking in my direction. I think he wants me to clap. Dream on, Dickie-bird. I walk over to him, picking a towel up off the rack at the edge of the mat and holding it out to him. "You were okay; weak on the dismount."

He snatches the towel from me and swats me with it. "Whatever." He rubs his damp face with the towel and throws it around his neck. "No detention again?"

I shove him. "No detention." I been good. I been biting my tongue in class, a lot. I steal a peek at Bruce. He's coming to us.

Is he gonna to ask me to chalk up? I haven't been allowed to as much as work out in a week. If Dick's getting to train, I should, too.

"How are you feeling, Dick?" Bruce asks, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick grins. "Not quite the aster, but I'm okay."

"Good, if you're not too tired, you and Jason spar," Bruce says. He places his other hand on my shoulder and gives me a Batman look. "Show me why I should let the both of you back on the streets."

I can't keep myself from jumping up in the air. "Yes!" I laugh and pound Dickie-bird on the back, and beam at Bruce. "I'll show you, I swear!" And I swear Bruce cracks a grin.

"Somebody's whelmed," Dick says, dropping his towel on the floor. "All right, let me kick your butt and get it over with."

"Water first," Bruce says, motioning to the large sports bottle sitting on a chair behind him. Dick groans and holds out a hand. Bruce tosses the bottle at him, and Dick catches it, popping off the lid.