Disclaimer: If I owned Young Justice, do you REALLY think my piggy bank would be starving?

Robin smirks as he creeps toward the green-haired psychopath. His fingers are tingling, itching and just waiting to punch the Joker square in the nose, to feel and hear the crack that will signal he's broken it. The man is still rambling about some type of nonsense involving two playing cards and a rubber duck when a birdarang suddenly lodges itself in his hand.

But the man doesn't frown. Hardly even flinches as he tears out the weapon and thick crimson red liquid trickles from the wound. He lifts a crowbar as Robin advances. The boy just laughs (creepily or amusingly, depending on who you ask) and lands a round-house kick to the madman's head. The Joker falls, the smile still plastered on his face…


Jerked from his thoughts, Dick stares up at his 7th grade math teacher, Ms. Hannigan. He doesn't think it's a coincidence she shares the same name as the old, mean woman in that old movie Annie. She absolutely hates children, who he doesn't know why she's teaching a class full of 12 and 13-year-olds.

"Um…what was the question?" he asks sheepishly. This draws several snickers and giggles from the rest of the class.

She glares at him, but, really, who can blame him for being distracted? It's early May, which means school is almost out, which means he'll be able to respond to Batman (and Robin) SOS calls all day, without having to fake a stomachache.

She taps the chalkboard and Dick stares at the question a moment. Without bothering to write down the steps on paper, he answers tiredly, "X equals 76."

She nods once and then starts to drone about variables. He tunes out. Even if he doesn't listen he knows he can pass. He's always bored in math class.

He glances out the window to the playground equipped with a full basketball court, soccer field, baseball diamond, and state-of-the-art playground equipment. This is Gotham Academy, after all, school to the sons and daughters of the Gotham's elite. Even if some of the older kids think they're too cool to play…

Ms. Hannigan's lecture abruptly ends when an alarm rings through the school. She pauses, listening, when an automated voice blares through the loudspeaker system. "Intruder alert. Intruder alert. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is NOT a drill."

The kids all dive beneath their desks, with their hands over their heads, what they learned during their drills, and some of the girls begin to cry quietly. Dick, not scared in the least (he faces this kind of thing every other day, after all) stares at the door which had bolted shut automatically when the alarm first went off.

He hears shouts and gunshots in the hallway, and most of the kids are whimpering now. Dick glances over and sees the girl that sits next to him shaking, tears running down her cheeks.

Dick's desk is in the front and to the right, which means he's closest to the door. And even when you're a superhero, it can be a little frightening when the door suddenly blows in.

He allows himself a small (very manly) scream as three men, all armed with guns and a wild look in their eyes, walk in. The one in front smiles eerily, three of his front teeth missing, and crouches by Dick's desk. "Hello, little one," he purrs. He breath reeks of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Dick glares at him, which only makes the man grab him by the scruff of the neck and haul him out. The boy manages to act scared (he has a reputation to maintain as a billionaire's ward, after all) as the man shoves the gun under his ribcage.

The man shoves harder and Dick winces, but stays silent.

"Brave, ain't he?" the man snickers to his two comrades. They bob their heads silently, smirking.

"Let's see how a hole in yer heart changes that."

Dick's eyes widen as there's a gunshot, intense, burning pain, and then nothing.


Bruce rubs a growing headache as his electronics expert rants (more to himself than Bruce) about some problem with the motor of Wayne Enterprises' newest invention.

"Mr. Kyle, I'm sure you can find the solution," Bruce says, forcing a small smile. "You are my best electronics expert, after all." He snaps his briefcase closed as Kyle grins, puffing his chest out slightly. "But I promised my son I'd be home for dinner, and I know he'll hold me to it. You know how kids can be."

Kyle smiles. "Yeah, I understand. I have eight grandkids."

Bruce nods absentmindedly as the man follows him out of his office. He had promised Dick he'd be home in time for dinner - but only because Dick wanted more training.

"Mr. Wayne? I think you'd better see this." He turns towards his frazzled, worried-looking secretary, Amy.

"What?" he asks, tired of distractions. "I promised Dick-"

"I don't know if Dick will be home in time for dinner," she answered, grabbing the remote that controlled the television in the waiting room adjacent to his office. She turned up the volume, chewing her lip.

"…it's been confirmed that three gunmen have made their way inside Gotham Academy," the groomed reporter said. "They have barricaded themselves in a 7th grade classroom and there have been several gunshots but no confirmed injuries or deaths." She paused, one hand over the Bluetooth in her ear. "This just in, there is one confirmed injury and several other presumed. It's unclear exactly who has been injured but police are attempting to get an ID…" Bruce's heart nearly stops when the fuzzy footage flashed on the screen. One of the gunmen had a raven-haired boy by the back of his shirt, holding him halfway out the window. Blood was pouring from a wound in his upper thigh, and he appeared unconscious.


He drops his briefcase and sprints for the door.

By the time he's pulled into the Gotham Academy parking lot, he's contacted half the Justice League. He's too emotionally attached to Dick, he'd end up doing something drastic to save his little boy's life if Batman had to save him. So Flash had graciously agreed to come, the others too wrapped up in battles of their own.

A red blur speeds past him, followed closely by a yellow one. Oh, great. Kid Flash.

Kid Flash is practically vibrating with jumpiness and anticipation as Flash talks with Commissioner Gordon, explains that Batman is 'away on personal business' and that he's been drafted to help.

"Unfortunately, you can't just barge in there," Gordon says with a scowl. "Too many kids' lives are at risk here."

Kid Flash frowns. "But c'mon! That kid is possibly dying. We gotta do something!"

Gordon chews on his lower lip. "I know. I hate just standing here, too. We have our best men attempting to negotiate with the gunmen. Maybe you can use that as a distraction to-"

But the speedsters are already sprinting for the school.

I know, I know. Short first chapter, right? I hate to say it, but most of the stories I write…chapters are usually just a little over 1,000 words long. I'm gonna be frank for a minute: I'm looming stocking caps to sell and raise money for World Vision. I believe helping starving children is more important than Young Justice Fanfiction, SO: the hats come first. Meaning updates might be a bit slow - once a week, maybe? (But don't hold me to that! ^^)

Yes, Bruce was OOC. :( I hate writing him cause he's so cold and I love Daddy!Bats. Which is, sadly, rare. So in my story it's UN-RARE! :)

Anyways, thank you SO. MUCH. To everyone who reviewed/favorited "Fanfiction". But to everyone who put it on story alert: um, sorry. It's a one-shot. ';)

Speaking of which, someone brought to my attention that the whole idea of characters reading fanfiction has already been done in other fandoms. So I guess I can't claim it as my own idea…*sigh* ;)

PS: Sorry if being shot in his "upper thigh" was confusing. Let's just say, for now, that the villains got smart about something. It's important that Dick didn't get shot in the chest for the plot to get past the first chapter.

And to end this very long author's note:

See this button? Right here down there? It's my favorite button and anyone who pushes it gets FREE virtual cookies. And a shoutout! :D