Multi-Fandom Oneshots

Dick Grayson| This is Me

Requested by: alkvva

Prompt: This is Me ~ Greatest Showman

Warnings: Slight swearing

Extra: I adjusted your request a bit because it fit better with the story

~*~

"(Y/n), what is the answer to the equation?"

My head snapped up. I had been too busy doodling to actually hear anything the professor had been saying for the last ten minutes. I didn't even understand why we had to take the class. This was the police academy. What would we need math for? Counting how many criminal we put behind bars?

An odometer on a squad car shows that the car has been driven a total of 735 miles during a one week period. What is the average number of miles the car was driven each day during that one week period?

"Um...The uh, the answer is A," I stuttered, flushing red as all the eyes in the room turned to me.

"Correct," sweet relief flood through me, "Can you tell me how you got that answer?"

Shit. Literally the last thing I wanted to do was speak in class again, "Well um, when you- When you calculate averages you have to divide the sum by the number of quantities. And, um, so you would uh, you would divide 735 by 7. That would give you 105, which is A."

"Good answer."

I groaned quietly and laid my head down on my desk. I could hear the class whispering. I knew I sucked at talking to the people. I had always been that way.
Even my parents were surprised when I told them I wanted to become a police officer. But there was a different energy to arresting criminals, a newfound confidence that I didn't feel anywhere else.

"Hey."

I glanced up at the kid who whispered in my ear. Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne's adopted son. Resident hottie. Why he chose to sit next to me everyday, when every single girl in the class was dying to be near him, I didn't know. Maybe it was because I wasn't one of those girls actually. I treated him like a person instead of a piece of meat.

"Good job on that question," Dick gave me an award winning smile, "I suck at math, so I would have bombed giving that answer."

"I did bomb that answer," I grumbled, "I suck at talking in front of people."

"You aren't bad at talking to me," Dick pointed out, poking my arm with his mechanical pencil.

"You're different," I swatted his hand away, "You're a weird loner even though every girl in the class would love to sleep with you."

"Every girl? Does that include you?"

"Shut up Grayson," I laid my head back on my desk, fully intending to ignore the world around me until the stupid, pointless class was over.

Finally, after what felt like hours of never ending torture, the professor dismissed us for the door. I slung my bag over my shoulder and booked it out of the classroom. I wanted to get some training in at the gym before dark, which meant I couldn't get behind slow people in the hall.

"Hey watch it, Stutter!" Someone cried out when I bumped into them.

"S-sorry!" I winced, before continuing on. Stutter. The stupid nickname I was given. It felt offensive, not just to me, but to the people who actually had stutters out there. I talked perfectly fine in front of people I was comfortable with, just not everyone.

"I don't even understand why she's in the police academy."

"She can barely stand up for herself, how will she stand up for other people?"