AN: So I got this idea from my other story, Intervention. I'm going to try to keep everything as canon as possible! I'm planning on following Dick, Wally and Artemis throughout the first season. I'll pick a specific point in every episode for each character when they get a significant walloping and write a little blurb about how/what happened and then the outcome/excuse they used to explain themselves. I always enjoy reading reviews, so if you have time please leave one! :) I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING.

Season 1, Episodes 1 & 2: "Independence Day p. 1 & 2"

Robin
Washington, D.C.
July 4, 23:46 EDT

"I don't wanna do this!" Robin yelled before activating a smoke bomb in the clone's face.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Aqualad kicked the clone in the chest, sending him flying across the lab. As he got back on his feet, Robin raised his arm. Aiming for the "S" depicted on the clone's suit, he shot two high-voltage tasers at his chest. They had absolutely no effect, and Robin's eyes widened in fear and surprise as the clone grabbed ahold of the taser wire and yanked him forward.

The clone threw him to the floor and then stepped on him like a cockroach.

Robin gasped, his hands groping helplessly at the clone's foot.

It was like a clamp was fastened over his chest, and every second an invisible hand tightened it one more notch. His suit was designed to withstand pressure but not this much pressure. He couldn't draw a breath, and he felt his ribs beginning to cave in. His vision was starting to go black, and through a ringing in his ears he vaguely heard Aqualad's shout,

"Enough!"

The pressure abruptly disappeared. Robin could breathe again, but his entire body was aching, and his ribs protested as his lungs expanded with every inhale. Aqualad tried to help him up, but as he fought to his knees the world started spinning and he spun with it, toppling backwards onto the floor.

He heard Aqualad and the clone scuffling and he tried to will his body to move so that he could help, but the internal struggle only brought him deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

Dick Grayson
Gotham City
July 6, 12:23 EDT

Dick Grayson sat drumming his fingers impatiently at a booth in the Gotham Diner. Across from him, Barbara Gordon stared idly out the window until a waitress appeared laden with two trays of food. She set them down in front of the pair and then disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors.

Dick reached for his tray and winced – he moved too quickly and tweaked his still-healing ribs. This didn't go unnoticed by Barbara, who narrowed her eyes suspiciously,

"What's wrong?"

Dick hitched on a charming smile, trying to ignore the stabbing pain radiating across his chest.

"What? Nothing."

"You flinched when you reached for your tray, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's great!"

"Really? Everything?" Barbara asked skeptically.

"Everything! Honest, Barbara."

Barbara huffed in disbelief and raised her eyebrows,

"Come on, Dick. I know you better than that."

Dick's smile faltered and he bit his lip, looking out the window uncomfortably,

"I don't want to talk about it."

Barbara threw a French fry at him,

"I never keep secrets from you. I tell you everything!"

"Yeah, but this is… different."

"Different how?"

Dick huffed impatiently,

"It just is, okay?"

Barbara narrowed her eyes at him,

"No, not okay! Friends don't keep secrets from each other."

Dick avoided her gaze, frowning.

"Come on, Dick."

Dick looked up and met her piercing blue eyes.

"Fine," he sighed, "but it's embarrassing"

Barbara shrugged indifferently, chewing on a French fry,

"I've told you a fair share of embarrassing stories. Remember the incident at the police station?"

Dick grinned awkwardly,

"It's even worse than that… I was sleepwalking and I fell down the marble staircase in Wayne Manor- all three floors."

"What?"

Dick shrugged,

"I landed on my chest and bruised a few ribs."

Barbara blinked and then laughed,

"Well that's not so bad. I was expecting something much worse."

"Worse than nearly killing myself in my sleep?"

Barbara laughed again,

"At least you didn't do it consciously- now that would be embarrassing. Although…" she grinned deviously, "maybe you should install a pet gate at the top of the stairs. Or keep a mattress at the foot of the stairs. You know, to soften your landing."

Dick glowered at her,

"Oh ha, ha. Very funny. You and the Joker should start a comedy club."

Barbara grinned and threw another French fry at him, but Dick caught it as easily as a birdarang and tossed it in his mouth.

"Nice catch," Barbara commented.

Dick grinned, but as he chewed, he couldn't ignore the words echoing in his head: friends don't keep secrets from each other.

Kid Flash
Washington, D.C.
July 5, 00:34 EDT

"But I've finally got room to move!"

Kid Flash lowered his goggles and took off up the stairs, his adrenaline pumping faster with each step. He saw the pack of genomes approaching and braced himself before ramming through them, knocking them to the side.

When he finally reached the hallway, his stomach dropped at the sight of the closing doors.

"Holy crud!"

He wasn't going to make it, but he was going too fast, he wasn't going to stop in time –

WHAM.

Kid Flash saw stars as his head slammed into the closed doors and he tumbled backwards in agony.

A shooting pain was ricocheting around the inside of his skull, and even though he was laying flat on his back the world was spinning like a carousel. He knew that he didn't have much time – the genomes were approaching fast and he doubted the clone could punch his way through the doors before they were surrounded.

Rubbing the side of his head in a vain attempt to soothe the pain, Kid Flash sat up slowly. Just then, Aqualad rushed into the hall and saw the sealed door –

"We're cut off from the street!" he shouted.

"Thanks," Kid Flash said sarcastically, "my head hadn't noticed."

Wally West
Central City
July 6, 02:25 CDT

Wally West's stomach growled as he laid on his bed, listening to the sounds of his mom's book club meeting going on downstairs. For the past half hour he had been weighing the pros and cons of venturing downstairs to the kitchen. So far, he had come up with several cons and only one pro:

Pros: food.

Cons: his mom's friends would no doubt try to engage him in conversation or pester him with questions. Whether it was asking him about school, his friends – or why he had a violently violet bruise decorating his forehead and temple.

His stomach growled again and he sighed.

Better just get it over with.

He tiptoed out of his room and briefly considered just speeding through the living room, but it was unlikely that a random gust of wind would go unnoticed, and he knew that his mom would chew him out about it later.

Prepared to succumb himself to the worst, Wally began the descent downstairs. He hadn't even stepped on the landing when several women shouted out greetings,

"Wallace!"

"Oh, look how big he's gotten!"

"Come over here and say hello, dear!"

Wally forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and trudged over.

An elderly lady seated next to Wally's mother narrowed her eyes,

"Wallace, what have you done to your head?"

Wally raised a hand to gingerly prod the dark purple bruise decorating his head,

"Oh, you know me. Always getting myself into trouble."

The woman gave him a stern look,

"You're not still climbing trees, now, are you?"

Wally forced a laugh,

"Not anymore, no. I went for a walk the other day and I, uh… well, I kind of tripped on the curb and slammed my head on a stop sign."

Several members of the club began talking at once:

"Oh, how dreadful!"

"You poor thing!"

"You young people don't pay any attention to where you're going nowadays!" The elderly woman exclaimed, her voice drowning out all the others, "it's a wonder you didn't walk headfirst into traffic! I bet you were on one of those pocket phones, weren't you?!"

"No, I was –"

"When I was your age I didn't have any of that nonsense!" The elderly woman proclaimed before launching into a heated rant about the many problems with "today's technology."

Wally politely pretended to listen, occasionally nodding his head or offering a smile. But as she spoke he began to inch his way across the room, taking small, discrete steps backwards. He stopped when he felt his heel kick the kitchen door, and groped behind his back for the door knob.

When the elderly woman paused her monologue to catch her breath he seized his chance –

"Well it was really nice seeing you all. I wish I could stay and chat, but I… well, I'm going to make myself a sandwich."

Without waiting for a response, he quickly ducked inside the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind him. He took a deep breath and rushed over to the calendar, where he scanned the upcoming month for his mom's next book club meeting.

Next time, he thought to himself, I'm spending the afternoon at Dick's.