If you were on the YJ team and you wanted to commit suicide, wouldn't you put on Fate's helmet? That way, you can still see the world, but you don't actually have to die? And you'd get Wally to worry himself to death about you (: I planned on making a fic about that, but it'd be just too damn depressing. Heh… It's funny if you think about it… I'm usually all for depressing stuff. This is dedicated to Mason Mock, the boy who can go breathe helium until he suffocates. I hope you rot asshole. (:

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

Dick rubbed his bruised neck awkwardly, his breath hitching in his throat. It stung like hell, even when he wasn't breathing. He wasn't all too bothered by the bruises though. He was more afraid of what Wally and Bruce would do when they noticed them. Dick looked down at the unconscious bodies at his feet, brushing his bloody knuckles against his jeans in an effort to clean them.

"Damnit," he muttered under his breath, wincing as he realized how much it hurt to talk.

Why did the neck have to be so sensitive? He angrily drove his foot into the nearest stomach, getting no satisfaction from the unconscious groan that sounded. He had to bite his bottom lip roughly in a mad hope that he wouldn't end up crying out in pain, only worsening the situation. It was only when he heard the police sirens that he remembered this wasn't a game. This was real. He had to disappear.

By the time the cops wandered into the ally, their faces riddled with disgust, Dick was hiding high up on a roof top. He had his phone in hand, trying to decide what to do. He couldn't call 911; they were already down below him and they'd arrest him most likely. He couldn't call Bruce; his near-father would have a heart attack when he heard that his little near-son had been injured in something he had been trained to handle. He couldn't call Wally; he didn't want the ginger to tear the poor unconscious men to shreds for hurting him. With a frown, he pulled open his phone.

"I'll be home late. KF's helping me with homework. Sorry," he texted Bruce.

"We can't hang today. I guess I promised Babs that we'd go to the park today. See you tomorrow," he texted Wally.

He stayed up on the roof, listening to the cops' banter about the 'poor souls' down below. They weren't really poor souls. They were deluded, selfish sons of bitches who deserved everything that happened to them, and even then some. They liked to beat up innocent looking kids and to record their screams. They didn't get a scream from him to say the least- shit. Shit. Shit. Dick peeked his eyes over the side of the building and in an instant, he saw the cop pick up the tape recorder. Almost instantly, he heard his voice cut the air.

"Let me go! Da-damnit! P-put me d-d- agh!" his pained cry cut the air and he heard the bricks shatter through the distorted speakers.

"Scream for me, bitch," the bigger man's voice floated through the speakers.

There was silence for a moment before another shattering sounded followed by a strained groan.

"I said SCREAM!" the voice was furious, "or I'll show you a glimpse of what hell is like!"

Dick sank down, hiding his face in his hands. He didn't make an effort to leave though. He was waiting until Wally and Bruce gave the okay to his fake alibis before he snuck off to find the nearest hospital. He winced as he heard his scared whimpers sound, followed by a shaky scream; his shaky scream.

I'm so weak… he thought to himself, hugging his stomach, wallowing in self-pity. Why would Batman ever agree to mentor me? I'm a failure…

Cynical laughter rocked the alley below them.

"That's right, ya little bastard. Keep it u-," a shaky cry that wasn't Dick's came over the speakers.

Dick's animalistic cry of pure rage blasted the speakers and he heard a sickening crunch before the tape recorder must've hit the ground.

"My parents loved each other! They were HAPPILY married when I was born!" he heard himself scream, a swift shriek piercing the speakers before an explosion blasted the poor machine's sound systems.

"W-Woah man… this… I know this kid!" another guy's voice came out, stuttering nervously.

"Damn right you know me! I'm the last person on this planet that you want to fu-" the sound flickered for a moment as a brick shattered against something, most likely bone from how pained the scream that followed was, "with! And don't you even start me on living in hell! I've been down there so long, I'm the devil's right hand man! He consults me before anything! When I see him again, I'll make sure you both rot!"

"Dude, it's the Wayne kid!" the nervous voice from before choked out.

He was the one Dick had bashed roughly with a brick. In the ebony's defense, that little prick was the one who was holding the gun to his head. He jumped as his angry and little scream cut the air, full of pure rage.

"It's Grayson! I'm not a Wayne! I'll never be a fu-" the tape cut out for a second as scared cry split the speakers, "Wayne! Have you met the man? He won't even walk with me in public, let alone come home for dinner! I think he just took me in to get a good word in for himself! What's better than a playboy bachelor adopting a cute little orphan? How about a playboy bachelor who actually gives a flying shit about his cute little adopted orphan?"

A sharp crack sounded, followed by a deep choky groan of agony. Dick sank into the building above him, nearly crying out from fear as his phone vibrated against his hip. He pulled it open.

Bruce had replied: "On business trip. See you Wednesday."

Dick's eyes widened before he narrowed them angrily. Wednesday? That was a week away! Why hadn't he been warned? This was ridiculous! There was no excuse to this! Angrily, Dick stood up, pocketing his phone. He stood up on the ledge of the building and pushed his shades up high onto his nose. Sure, they were broken, but it 'added character'. He balled his hands into fists and looked down onto the cops for a moment before he got the courage he needed.

He let out a silent whimper and jumped from the ledge, straight into the midst of the cops. Halfway down, he caught a cop's eye. The man let out a cry of surprise, causing the other cop to look up and stagger back, caught off guard. Dick didn't hesitate though. Before he got to the ground, he crouched sort of, setting a hand out to balance himself. When he landed, he fell into classic Batman position, looking up slowly, meeting their eyes with a strong smirk. Both cops freaked to say the least, stopping the tape recorder. The oldest thrust the recorder into the youngest's hands before dashing to Dick's side.

"A-Are you alright?" he asked, suddenly noticing the bruises Dick sported, "What happened?"

Dick stood up, gesturing to the guys on the ground before smiling innocently up at the cops. Neither seemed to believe him at first. When they saw he was dead serious, they both raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Dick shrugged it off, sliding his phone from his pocket. He casually waved good bye to the cops, strolling away.

"Changed my mind. Bros before hoes. I'm down by Gotham hospital. Bring ice," Dick sent to Wally, smirking as the cops raced after him.

As they turned the corner, they looked around in wonder, wondering where the small boy had gone. Who would think to check fire escapes nowadays? Certainly not them. And with that, the devil's right hand man scaled from building to building, ready to go consult with his devilish friend.

"You'll make my life Hell? Buddy, I'm already living in Hell. I've been down here so long, me and the devil have f-cked around a couple times and he appointed me as his right hand woman. I'll have you and all of your ancestors deported down to the black gates." You should've seen his face. Who knew good little me cussed? *Tee Hee* Yeah, I know it's OOC. Whatever man, let me type. If you don't like it, rewrite it and let me see how you do (: Go ahead, I dare ya. Review?

-F.J.