It was a nice, sunny day in Gotham.
Weird, right? When is it ever sunny or nice in Gotham?
Anyways, a normal child would love a day like this. They'd probably play tag outside with their friends. Unfortunately, this was not possible for Richard Grayson.
The first reason was because he had no friends. Ouch- was that too harsh?
And the second reason was because he was currently in a juvenile detention center.
No, no, he didn't do anything wrong. It's just that in Gotham, there is a tad too many orphans and not enough orphanages.
So instead of having a place to stay where he could be welcomed and possibly loved, he was brought to a place where he would be alone. Worse, the guards weren't very nice.
Every day he spent there, the more misery he'd feel. His parents had just died. He saw it happen before his own eyes. It all happened too fast. He hadn't even have time to mourn when child care services took him.
So, here he was: out in the courtyard. Sometimes it was refreshing, other times it wasn't.
It usually wasn't.
He was sitting on a bench when he saw a group of kids off the the corner, behind some trees. Now, should he risk bothering them or missing an opportunity to make friends? He decided he'd rather risk bothering them. Dick really, really wanted to have at least one friend.
He walked up to group. Up close, he realized they were teenagers. Great, he thought sarcastically, the teens are usually the meanest ones.
He began to walk away, deciding that these weren't the best people to have a conversation with, but a short boy with spiked hair said, "hey, who's that?"
"I dunno." A tall, blonde girl replied nonchalantly.
A muscular boy, almost a man, really, said "hey, pipsqueak, what's your name?"
Dick felt himself sweat nervously. "Uh, Richard... "
"Okay, Richard. Whatcha in for?" The spiked haired boy asked.
"I-I" he studdered.
The girl laughed. "You've gotta be in here for something."
"I didn't do anything. It's just that-" he tried to explain.
"Wow, he thinks he's innocent! How cute." The blonde instigated.
"Don't be mean. He's just a kid." The short boy defended.
"Whatever." She replied.
"So, where you from?" The muscular one questioned.
"Romania. Well, I used to travel a lot, so I know a lot of places, I guess." Dick said. He felt uncomfortable, but not as much as before. It felt sorta nice talking about his origins.
The large boy raised his eye brows.
"Oh my." She giggled. "Why'd you travel so much?" The girl asked, she had a slight smirk.
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Friends with the EnemyFanfiction
After his parents' tragic death, eight-year-old Dick Grayson was unfairly sent to a juvenile detention center. Rather than waiting for a miracle to happen, he decides that he'll escape that hell hole himself. Surely enough, he manages to do just th...