Disclaimer: I do NOT own Young Justice or Inkheart or any of the stories I quote or mention.

"John! Dick! Get inside before the thunder and lightning starts!" shouted Mary Grayson from the doorway of their small trailer.

"But Mami! There's nothing to DO inside! And it's just raining!" complained a 6 year old Richard, who then proceeded to shake his head like a dog and sent water droplets EVERYWHERE.

"Son, your mother's right. It'll start to thunderstorm soon. It'll be dangerous to stay outside." John explained, honestly just wanting to get out of the downpour.

Dick looked down at his feet and crossed his arms defiantly.

His father grinned and charged at him, picking him up and tickling him.

"Tata! Opri! Care gâdilă! Opri!" (Daddy! Stop! That tickles! Stop!) Dick squealed between laughs.

John laughed and carried him into the trailer.

The trailer wasn't big, honestly it consisted of two rooms.

A main room and a bedroom.

The main room was a kitchen, dining room and sitting area with a table that turned into a bed if they had guests.

Dick prefered to sleep on the little bunk that was created by the raised curve of the trailer for where they hooked it to their truck.

The bedroom was small, and doubled as a storage place.

It had cabinets everywhere, it was where most of their stuff was kept.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

Just as Mary closed and locked the flimsy door, a loud burst of thunder cracked overhead.

"See? You two got in just in time." she laughed, while drying Dick's hair with a light blue towel.

"But what're we gonna' DO. Everything fun is OUTside." huffed Dick, who was attempting (and failing) to swat away his mother's hands.

"Do you want us to read you a story?" asked John, while he changed his sopping wet shirt.

"Can I read the story to YOU?" he asked as his mother helped him into some warm and dry pyjamas.

"Since when can you read?" teased John.

"I'm a gooder reader than you!" Dick said, although it was muffled by the PJ shirt sliding over his head.

"Gooder? You sure you want to use that word?" he teased.

"Better. I'm a BETTER reader than you. Happy?" he huffed, continuing to huff under his breath about how confusing grammar is.

"Of course you can read the story to us, my little Robin." she agreed, kissing his still damp hair.

"Now, your mother and I are going to change, too. Go get a book you like and we'll be done when you get back."

Dick rushed off to find the perfect story.

He ran to his parents bedroom and opened the cabinet under the bed.

This is where they kept ALL their books.

He knew it was weird, but books seemed to talk with him.

He glanced at a few titles, hearing the whispers they reached to him with.

"-sin to kill a mockingbird..."

"-Indigo Montoya. You killed my Father. Prepare-"

"Call me Ishmael..."

"...I volunteer as tribute!"

"...ring to bring them all, and in the darkness..."

"...tree was happy, but not really..."

"...fish two fish red fish blue..."

"...real isn't how you're made, real is a thing that happens to you..."

He looked for a long while and finally decided.

His tiny 6 year old hands plucked a thick book with a thick golden spine.

'A Collection of Fairy Tales'

The pages were gold and the writing was fancy.

The reason he chose it though, were the stories.

Knights rescuing Damsels in distress, magic, and so much more.

He held his find close to his chest as he walked to where his parents were done changing.

"Ready?" asked Dick, excited.

"Definately! What story did you pick, Robin?" his mami asked.

"My name isn't Robin!" he complained, "and I chose this one." he grinned handing her the legends.

"Come on, why don't we read this in our bed, we'll all be more comfy that way." suggested his tati.

They all climbed into the Queen-sized bed.

John was sitting with his arm around Mary, and Mary had her sweet little Robin sitting in her lap.

He opened the book to look at the contents.

'Beauty and the Beast' 'Snow White' 'Rapunzel' 'Aladdin'

His little finger slid down the line until it decided on a solution.

"Mami, you pick." he announced, holding the book up a little so his mami could see better.

"Hmm... How about... The Frog Prince?"

"Desăvârşit!" (Perfect!) he cried.

He turned to the right page and cleared his throat.

"The Frog Prince. Once there was a young princess named Kaitlyn who decided to go for a walk in the forest. She brought along her toys, including her favourite toy. A small golden ball. As she walked, she tossed it in the air and caught it again. A little while later, she threw it too hard."

"Oh no!" gasped Mary, and John held back a chuckle.

"Mami! It's okay! These stories have happy endings! Remember?" he laughed.

"Oh, I forgot... how silly of me..."

"Okay... where was I?" murmured Dick.

His mother pointed to the exact spot with one of her long fingers.

"Oh yeah! The little golden ball flew through the air..."

Dick stopped reading as his voice started to get weird and echo and the world seemed to shudder around him.

"What was that?" he asked, scared of what just happened to his voice.

"What was what?" asked John, who had started to fall asleep.

"I didn't hear anything sweetie. Keep reading." she prompted, swatting the side of her husband's head.

"Okay... The ball flew, then bounced, then rolled all the way into a murky wel-..."

Little did the family realize, as the next wave of thunder hit, a small, golden ball fell from the sky, onto their roof.

After three short bounces, the ball was trapped under a thorn bush.

Mary and John Grayson didn't realize that their son had a gift.

A gift that would make his eighth birthday a day he would never forget.

And not for a good reason.