The Heroin Diaries

Warnings: Sexuality, drug use, suggestive language, cursing, teenage rebellion and experimentation, yada, yada, yada...

Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish I owned Robin or the rest of the gang. Alas, I do not.


I remember the first time I met him, staring out from behind Batman's cape, smiling shyly. He had stared back with a dubious face, as if trying to figure out what I was. Or maybe he had simply been surprised at a kid younger than him being here first. I can still recall with clarity the exact measure of skepticism and adoration the veteran heroes sustained when they found out a nine-year-old child had been brought into their world.

Nostalgia is a fickle sensation, creeping up and then wrapping around you like a vine. Mine is grasping me as we speak, always full of such lucidity. I can literally sense the warm sun beating down on my skin as I play keep- away with Speedy's hat, the bright orange of his hair sticking up in the wind as he chases me. I'm laughing, and although he tries to appear annoyed, I know he is smirking behind me, enjoying the game as much as myself.

The kid in that memory no longer exists. What has replaced him is an arrogant, angry young man bent on proving himself. To whom or what I don't know, but I can understand to some extent. I get the issues he has between him and Green Arrow.

It is a tough place to be, somewhere caught between mentor/student and father/son. A difficult and precarious balance that never makes sense in the long run. When we were young, it had been fine and even fun up 'till a point. But as we grow older, we crave guidance and acceptance—we want a parental relationship, not something messy and distorted. We want to be treated as equals but trusted as their children, too. I get that. I do.

Growing up is an aching, arduous process. Muscles expand. Voice get deep. Hair appears in the oddest of places. Minds mature.

Sexuality develops.

For me, it's never been so much about male/female as it has been about attraction. I mean, I was in love with my babysitter, Barbara Gordon, for most of my childhood. Eventually though, I realized it was just a crush.

Am I gay? I don't think so. Bi? Maybe. I've had straight friends and gay friends and I don't see much of a difference. Love should be about love, right?

So, yeah, me and Roy sort of have a thing going. Kind of. Not really, but a little.

It's complicated.

God, dating sucks. And we're not even technically a couple yet. My whelming meter is off the chart when it comes to this subject.

I made a mental list of all the possible problems being involved with Roy could bring:

A) He's older. Age is only a number, but it does mean he has quite a few more years of 'experience' than me. I can feel the pressure already.

B) Batman would murder him. And send me to a convent. Period.

C) What if things didn't work out? What if we broke up and then couldn't even be friends anymore? Why go through with it if it ends up back-firing on us?

But, then I look at a list of reasons why it should be worth the risk.

A) Roy is good-looking, no one can deny that. Such a well-built, chiseled-featured, plain striking young man taking an interest in me whatsoever is a miracle by some sorts. I mean, I'm okay, but I'm also barely fourteen.

B) The way that serious expression lightens just a tad whenever we're alone. Or when I catch him completely off guard and he honest-to-God smiles at me. He has a gorgeous grin.

C) The way he talks to me like I'm not just a kid or rival superhero, but an equal. Unlike a lot of others as of late, Roy treats me like I'm worth his time and respect.

D) We know each other's civilian identities. Roy was actually the one who initiated that. It just sort of slipped one day and he told me he didn't care, that he trusted me, wanted me to know. After that I could not help but feel the need to reciprocate, so I told him mine, compromise be damned.

So far the pros outweight the cons, but there is still time to tip the scale. Secretly, I'm hoping it stays like this so there will be no amount of logic to disprove our chances. I want a relationship with Roy, I really do.

I haven't seen him for while. I know he won't admit it, but I think Green Arrow taking Artemis under his wing has got to hurt more than he lets on. Roy may have given up his position as a protege that day at the Hall of Justice, but Ollie still raised him. If I had been in the same spot, I know I'd feel burned with betrayal.

Still, I hope he'll show up one day out of the blue like usual, crawling through my window or waiting for me outside Gotham Academy. Soon, too. I have this uneasy premonition, this calm before the storm swelling inside. I don't know what it means or what the universe has in store for me.

As my bunica always said, 'In due time, all reveals itself. What will come may come heaving luggage. So be prepared.'

I never could construe whether she was talking about love or airport travel.

Bunica means 'grandma' in Romanian. At least Google Translate says so. If I'm wrong, don't shoot! Unfortunately, my school does not offer Romanian classes.

Now, a few matters to point out, in case anyone wants to know:

Why Roy/Dick?: Well, I've always liked that couple from other versions, plus it just seems a bit depleted so far in this fandom. Also, it works out great for the plot, so yeah.

Will there be anything explicit in this story?: I guess it depends on what you define as explicit? I mean, there will be some graphic things going on, and Dick will be painting a rather realistic picture of it, but let's say a sex scene? As of now, I'm not entirely sure. I will put warnings in the beginning though for individual chapters. I rated M just to be safe.

Is this story based on personal experience?: No. I myself have never done drugs. I have known people who have done drugs however for a variety of reasons, but never personally experienced it. Which is why I may not be completely accurate on everything.

Hope that clears some stuff up for anyone who was wondering. Flames are most unwelcome, while criticism is condoned. Any suggestions or questions are fine. Oh, one more thing: