Inaspirical >>>(Young Justice/Dick Grayson)<<<

Chapter 4

Team: Year One
March 30th, 23:59
Unknown Location

"Is this all the footage?" The figure asked.

The servant nodded. "Yes, sir." He replied.

The figure looked distastefully at the shot compilation. "I need more." His voice was eerily calm. "And this time, ignore the other members of the YJI. They hardly matter."

"Yes, master." The servant said. He scurried away before anything could happen to him.

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Team: Year One
March 31st, 00:01
Wayne Manor

Parker was supposed to be sleeping. But Charlie had demanded her attention and who was she to say no? The finger monkey had grown nearly to its full height, about seven inches tall. He liked to curl up on her bed with her instead of sleep in his own. It felt nice to be loved, though. She stroked his tiny head as she watched his tiny body rise and fall as he breathed.

Her thoughts wandered back to that boy she met over a week ago. The way he looked at her. He hadn't been scared of her, but of what she could do. She hated Gotham for this reason. Whoever that kid was, he looked abused and hungry. An empty, horrid feeling filled her stomach. She had it good here at the Manor. As someone who had experienced the cruelties of Gotham City firsthand, she could judge the criminals she helped lock away.

But no matter what, it would never be enough.

Gotham was dying. Everybody knew this. Batman and Robin were like CPR, an action taken to keep something alive for as long as possible. But CPR couldn't keep something alive forever. This city needed more.

For the sake of that kid, she would do everything in her power to become that more.

It was late, and she was honestly tired, but there was something she needed to do first. She gently scooped Charlie up and set him on a pillow.

She followed the familiar routine of walking into her bathroom, opening up her mirror, and grabbing a knife. The sting of the blade had become increasingly dull, and deeper, longer cuts had started being required to feel pain. On a positive note, her pain tolerance had never been so high.

She cut twice on her right wrist, careful to avoid the arteries and essential nerves. It hurt badly enough. That was good. She was not dreaming.

A knock came from the bathroom door. "Yeah?" She asked, putting the metal knife down quietly.

"I'm bored." Dick's voice complained.

Parker rolled her eyes, holding several layers of toilet paper on her bleeding cuts. They did not hurt that terribly at the moment, but the next day, especially when she took a shower, it would hurt like hell.

"I'll be out in a minute." She yelled. Needing a quick escape, she put heavy-duty bandages on the fresh wounds, replaced her sweatshirt, flushed the toilet for dramatic effect, then walked outside.

Dick gave her a skeptical look. "Are you wearing any pants?"

"Yes." She looked annoyed. The sweatshirt was big, she admitted, and it covered her ridiculously short shorts. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

He just shrugged. "I'm not tired."

Parker rolled her eyes. "You insomniac," she walked over to her bed and sat down, picking her monkey back up and placing him on her lap. "So what's up?"