I Forgot to Mention

With Friends Like These

"I don't know, I still think it makes you look kind of tough."

Dick let out a sarcastic laugh.  "Yeah, tripping over Jay's skateboard.  A real tough guy move there, Babs."

Barbara gave him an apologetic shrug as they made their way to the lunch table.  They had been debating the appeal of his black eye since morning home room. In all honesty, Dick had been hopeful that the bruise would have faded more over the weekend.  Unfortunately, the curse of pale skin, and not enough concealer, forced what was left of his black eye to be on full display to the school.  It wasn't the first time he had shown up with injuries, but they were usually in less noticeable areas.  Whatever, Dick was used to unwanted stares at his face anyway.  It was just so hard to be rich, famous, AND distractingly handsome.  How their dad manages to make it look so easy to handle will always be just another mystery of Wayne Manor.  Right up there with the likes of where Timmy's left socks keep disappearing to, who keeps changing the preset radio stations in the Batmobile, and where Dami keeps getting swords from after Alfred throws them out.  Dick's money was on Jay in all cases.

"I hope he at least got punished for leaving it out again," Barbara remarked while eating a fry.  "Like, what if he forgot it at the top of the stairs or something?  I think a shiner would have been the least of your worries then."

"Oh trust me," Dick grimaced to himself, "Jay's definitely in hot water this week."

They all were...though Barbara didn't exactly need to know that.  The entire weekend, minus the glorious eight and a half hours where absolutely no one was allowed to bother their "comatose" brother in the infirmary, was spent enduring the highest level of punishment in the Wayne household: Alfred School. Dick suppressed a shudder, and picked at his salad. To outsiders, it might seem like a series of torturous activities devised to systematically break, both physically and mentally, even the most hardened individuals into a puddle of quivering goo. But, for four boys trained to resist any and all tribulations thrown at them by unrelentingly cruel enemies in an equally hostile world, their caregivers are forced to get creative.  And monotony is the name of the game.

Dick reached for his drink, absently tuning in as Barbara complained about how boring their history teacher's lectures were.

Oh, he thought to himself as a flashback of "Story-time" suddenly crept back into his mind, you have no idea what boring is, Babs!

Story-time was just one of the unique features of Alfred School. Basically, the brothers are forced to sit on the ground in a circle, much like kindergartners or members of a cult, and listen extremely closely as Alfred recounts the most long winded, least interesting, contradictory, mind numbingly monotone, hour long drone of his time in the war. Dick couldn't exactly say which war, as many specific details are changed up each time in order for them to be unable to cheat on the exam. Because yes, they get tested on how well they paid attention.

The first time he had ever endured that particular punishment, thanks to Jay's brilliant idea to build their own water park in the foyer, all Dick could focus on was how numb his butt had grown from sitting on the living room floor. Jay and Timmy didn't fare much better, as they had both fallen asleep before the halfway point. When they all inevitably failed the test, it was then that they all learned the true horror of their collective punishment.  It's definitely not fun to have to listen to the story a second time. And Story-time was only one event on a fully packed schedule of overly tedious busy work and chores.

"I mean seriously, who would have possibly guessed that?!  So unfair!"

Dick shook his head at Barbara's outburst.  Clearly, she was still bitter about their pop quiz earlier. He let her rant fade into the background as he continued eating, making small notes of the different students around them in the plaza. Three football players were roughhousing next to a planter, the robotics club was busy testing out a homemade drone, and some girls were giggling at a table nearby. As an avid people watcher, Dick was prepared to move onto the next mildly interesting group, when someone in particular caught his good eye. Nestled within the outer edge of the pack of girls, passively enjoying her own meal, was a surprisingly familiar blonde.