A/N: A series of One-shots in a universe where Dick was overtly trained as a Talon after his parent's death. Bruce saved him eventually but some damage was already done. There is a secondary author's note at the bottom of this chapter which is fairly important so read that please.

Chapter Warnings: prejudiced talk (no slurs though)

Pairings: None

Disclaimer: Man, if I owned them things would be so different. But, I don't.

Chapter 1: Where We Were

It was a pity. Such a pity. The boy was strange and silent. He was no good, obviously after poor Bruce's money. That was the only explanation, the members of high society whispe red behind their hands, heads ducked together, small titters escaping when they thought no one was listening.

"I heard he's deaf!" Maria Wolworth hissed. The others rolled their eyes. Maria was always so behind the times.

"Well, of course he's deaf, Maria!" Harriet Carver shot back across the small group. "Anyone with eyes can see that! No," she leaned in closer to the others, "The real question is whether or not he's, you know slow."

Excited looks passed across every face in the clutch of women. Had Bruce Wayne had taken in a slow lad? Why on Earth would he do that? He was normally so much fun.

Across the ball room Dick Grayson, newly made ward of Bruce Wayne, rolled his eyes at their words. He was most assuredly not deaf, nor was he slow. That rumor was completely ridiculous, anyone who took the time to ask their little children how he did in school would know that. The brats certainly showed their displeasure strongly enough when he scored higher on an exam than they did.

The only other child at the gathering leaned over close to him and whispered, "What are they saying now?"

He quirked a smile at her. The expression still felt strange on his face, but it had been nearly four months since…. Well, since a time he didn't like to think about. He didn't smile back then. He shook his head lightly to banish the memories. Live in the moment. That was what Bruce always told him. Live in the moment. He brought his left hand up and twisted it into a few complex signs.

Nothing important. The freckled red-head next to him scowled.

"Dick, I know better than that!" She protested, "They always say mean things about you! Daddy should make them stop. I bet he would if I told him to!" She made to set her drink down. Dick rolled his eyes.

No Babs he signed, They will just be mean to him if he tries. I don't mind. The ten year old gave him a skeptical look. Really. He promised. It was the truth. The words of a few stupid women could not bother him, not after everything he had seen and endured in his nine short years.

She frowned deeply at him. I do not like. Her signs were still clumsy, stilted where his flowed, heavy where his were light, and her grammar was atrocious. It frustrated her, but Dick was just happy she was trying to learn. Besides, Babs was so smart, she would look like a native signer in no time.

Whatever. This party was boring anyway. Want to go work on the math for Wednesday?

Barbra stared at him. Was the kid for real? It was Friday night and he wanted to work on their homework? He met her eyes, his own large and blue. The left one had a very small scar pulling on the corner, not noticeable until you were up close, but large enough to make her wonder what his life had been like before Bruce took him in. He never talked about it.

Babs? He ended her name with the raised eye brows of a question and she shook her head to clear it of thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess we can go do homework," She pushed at his shoulder lightly, "Nerd."

You love me for it. Then he was gone, skipping across the floor with a grace she could never hope to match. He flitted past Bruce, signing something she could not make out, and out the door on the far side of the room.

Babs walked up to Bruce far more sedately. He was so handsome, she had only just realized that a few weeks ago when he showed up at school to take Dick to a doctor's appointment. She tried valiantly to hide her blush when he smiled down at her.

"Dick says you two are going upstairs to do some math?"

She nodded quickly, "Yes sir." She looked around hopefully but her father was nowhere in sight. "I was hoping you could tell my dad?"

"Of course, I'll let the Captain know as soon as he comes out of the kitchen."

"The kitchen?"

Bruce's smile turned slightly conspiratorial. Barbra's blush deepened. "Ms. Wells has developed a small fondness for our boys in blue. I believe your father is hiding."

Babs was startled into a laugh. Bruce chuckled along with her. He had opened his mouth to say something else when a willowy woman floated up to him.

"Oh Brucie, darling, you must come see what poor Elsa has had done!"

Bruce cast a small wince at Babs before turning to the woman. As she escaped the horrid ball room, Barbra could hear the woman going on about a botched nose job. She shuddered. High society gave her the hives.

Dick's room was sparse, far less decorated than she expected the bedroom of a multi-billionaire's ward to be. He had moved all the furniture to a small space near the window, creating a crowded area surrounded by emptiness. The walls were bare save for a single, faded circus poster which hung by the window next to his bed. When she entered he waved happily from his spot in the window seat. She could see that on the way up he had stolen a tray full of food and drinks and their math books were already laid out in a small semicircle.

Babs smiled at him, "You are the weirdest kid I know, you know that right?"

Yep. The sign was quick and cheerful. Babs crossed the room and settled into the window seat across from him.

When Captain Gordon ventured from the kitchen and climbed the stairs at midnight to retrieve his daughter he found himself desperately wishing for a camera. The two children had fallen asleep working on their homework. Dick had slumped forward and was curled up in a loose ball against Barbra's side. His daughter had her head tilted against the boy's and her arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Do not worry," he jerked slightly when the elderly British man spoke, "I will have copies made for you." He held up a camera with a very small smile. Gordon sighed happily. Babs had not been this relaxed since her mother's death, it would be good to have the picture to remind himself that things would get better for the two of them.

"Thanks, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Not at all, Captain Gordon."

A/N 2: A Few notes on the use of Aphasia in this fic: Aphasia is often caused by some sort of traumatic injury to the brain and can lead to further illnesses and issues. For instance, epilepsy and strokes. This is a very serious condition and not one to take lightly, I hope to do the trials and tribulations of living with aphasia justice. However, I am not a doctor and I will likely take a few liberties with respect to this being a work of fiction in which the aphasia is only a part, not the focus. As an example of the liberties I will be taking; typically aphasia of the level of what I'm giving Dick also precludes use of signed language (as it is recognized as 'natural language' just as spoken languages are). However, since signed language is stored in both the action/vision and language sections of the brain it is reasonable to assume that he might have been more easily able to reacquire signs before speech. Obviously, this is fiction, but I am using my linguistics background to try and make it believable (hey, grad school is useful…. Crazy).