A/N: Life sucks, more on that at the bottom. Enjoy.

73|_|5' |)!(3

I told her once I wasn't good at anything. She told me survival is a talent.

Damian stood between Tim and Danny as they waited for Bruce or Alfred to pick them up. He raised a brow at Danny. "They actually allowed you to stay in school?"

The older teen was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, face deadpan. "Yup."

"How? You assaulted another student!"

"He started it."

Tim chuckled as Damian sputtered.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Look, kiddo, the admins aren't just lettin' me off the hook. They called up Bruce to figure out what my punishment would be."

"So, Father already knows?"

Tim snickered again. "Of course Bruce knows. He knows everything. Haven't you learned that by now?"

Damian bristled. "What are you trying to get at, Drake?"

Fenton's eyes rolled and he shoved off the wall. "'Kay, while you two are busy with your pissing contest, I'm gonna go over there." He thumbed over his shoulder, turned, and left.

The two continued to glare at each other, then huffed, turning away and crossing their arms.

A car finally pulled up, Bruce stepping out and nodding to the boys. "Afternoon, Tim."

"Hey, Bruce."

"Hello, Father."

"So, how was the first day?"

"It was alright," Damian replied.

Immediately, Tim rolled his eyes. "Except when you ran off to tattle on Danny when he was sticking up for you."

Bruce smirked, deciding to cover up his concern, knowing Danny wouldn't take it well. "Yes, I've heard of Danny's… run-in with Joshua."

Damian scowled. "He said you had been called to assist them with assigning a punishment?" he demanded, wanting the assurance that Danny's insolence would be dealt with appropriately.

"Quite so," Bruce replied, nodding. "However, I think it would be… impertinent if too many persons knew about the arrangement at this time."

Damian's scowl deepened, but Tim just huffed and turned, saying, "I'll go find Danny—"

"No need," the other teen said as he came over, glancing between the two. "Figure out who pisses furthest yet?"

Bruce held back a chuckle. "Neither. They keep sparring, but it always ends in a stalemate."

Danny shot him a dry look. "So I'm gonna have to deal with this all the time?"

The billionaire shrugged.

"I think I'd rather be back at the crack house…."

73|_|5' |)!(3

Upon returning to the mansion, Danny immediately exited the car and disappeared inside, leaving Bruce and Damian to meander their own way. They inevitably ran into Alfred, who greeted both and announced that snacks were waiting in the kitchen for the younger Wayne.

As the youngest sat to nibble on the veggie platter, he asked Alfred, "Did you not hear about what Danny did?"

"I heard some of it, yes," the butler responded. "However, I believe it is being handled."

Damian scowled, biting harshly into a carrot. "Where did he run off to, anyway?"

"To his room, I would say."

The phone rang, and Bruce excused himself to answer it. After a brief conversation, he announced he was heading out to catch up with Chase Meridian, and, with his snack mangled and any attempts at gossip thwarted, Damian headed up to his room, hearing a voice coming from down the hall as he approached.

"Kio estas tiel grava? Vi scias Mi havas devojn nun, ĉu ne?"

"Hm?" Damian mumbled, turning towards Danny's door rather than his own.

"Estas Hefesto. Li kolektis armeon kaj planas ataki la portalo."

Damian's brow furrowed at the second voice before the words translated in his mind and he blinked. "Hephaestus? Army?! What?"

"Kiun? Kiam?"

"Via. Mi estis ripari ĝin, tiel ni povos atingi al Amikeco rapide en kazo de krizoj. Li malkovris, kvankam, kaj nun li estas armi sin por plena-out milito sur ĝi."

The preteen's eyes went wide. "Milito?" He turned on his heel, rushing down the stairs and out towards the dogs, determined to tell Alfred and his father what he had heard, vaguely hearing the last few comments as he left.

"Kaj Amikeco. Kiel longe ni havas?"

"Paro semajnoj, se ni havas sorton."

"Kaj se ni ne estas?"

"Tagoj."

73|_|5' |)!(3

Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair, still speaking in Esperanto, it being habit when talking with any of his ghost friends. "Thanks for the warning, Technus. Keep an eye out, and if it's starting to look bad, let me know, and I'll fly out there."

"Are you sure you'll be able to?"

"I'll manage."

A phone rang from down the hall, but Danny ignored it.

"But—"

Danny shook his head. "No, Technus, he's my problem, my responsibility, so I will be the one to—"

The phone rang again.

The halfa spun, snapping at the doorway, "Will someone frickin' get that?!"

It just rang once more.

The teen groaned. "I'll be right back, Technus. Apparently, no one else can hear the phone!" he huffed, yelling the last to whomever might be listening.

Technus smirked at him from the computer screen. "So, you're hearing things again?"

"Shut up." He went out his door, hunting down the ringing phone and picking it up. "Hello?"

"What's up, man?"

Danny held the phone away from him for a second, staring blankly at it before returning it to his ear. "Not much. What're you calling about?"

"No reason… just thought I could liven the place up a bit."

The teen blinked slowly. "…What."

"Y'know, invite some of my buds to come and hang out. That place can get a bit empty at times."

Danny huffed. "You realize there's already four people living here full-time, right?"

A chuckle crackled across the line. "That's exactly my point! All that space, and only four residents?"

The halfa pursed his lips. "What exactly are you proposing?"

"Eh, not much… say, fifteen or so of my friends, this Saturday?"

Danny gaped at the phone. "...Fifteen?"

"Yeah, give or take a few… something wrong?" The voice didn't seem to understand Danny's apprehension.

The halfa rubbed at his forehead. "Great. I was right, this place is a frat house..."

Finally the voice seemed to catch on. "...Wait a sec. Who am I speaking to?"

"The kid who just got dumped here. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

The voice chuckled, causing a crackling of static across the line. "A friend of the family, I guess you could say. Name's Dick Grayson."

Danny scowled. "Awesome. Why the hell are you having your frat party here?"

"...Kid, have you looked around!? The place is ripe for a party!"

Rolling his eyes, Danny replied, "I'm not the party type."

"Huh… well, your loss. Where's the rest of the gang?"

"If by 'gang,' you mean the people who live here, no clue."

Another chuckle came over the speaker. "Oh, well. Guess I'll try again later. Nice talking to you, dude!"

"Yeah, sure." Danny hung up, stomping back to his room and grumbling, "Great, a party."

"What party?"

Danny turned to the computer that he'd left open, glaring. "Nothing, Technus."

"Ohhh, no, kiddo. You're not getting out of this that easily. What party?"

"Some 'friend of the family' is throwing a party on Saturday." Upon seeing the ghost's excited grin, Danny growled, "Don't. Come."

"Why not? Wouldn't it be more fun with company?"

"Not if by 'company,' you mean you trying to set me up with everyone there."

"Why not? You could use someone in your life, kiddo. Maybe that'll finally get you out of your eternal pity party!"

"You shove me at someone's lips one more time, I'll find a way to rekill you, Technus."

"Geez, end a guy for trying."

"Stay away on Saturday. In fact, don't bother even logging on. I can't afford to have any of these guys even more suspicious of me. They're already spying on me..."

"Alright, fine, I won't log on. And shouldn't you be working on a scrambler for your room if you don't want them spying?"

Danny ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm working on one in metalworks. Anyway, I'd better get going, we'll probably have dinner soon. Bye."

"Bye, kiddo."

Danny logged off with a sigh, closing his computer and turning for his door. "Wonder what's for dinner, anyway…." As he came into the kitchen, he asked Alfred, "What's cookin'?"

The butler turned towards him, smiling. "Veal Parmesan."

Danny paused midstep, gaze fading to mid distance as memory washed over him of an angry goth ranting about her mother's dinner plans the night before. "...Veal?"

Pennyworth sensed the absence in Danny's voice and turned fully away from the oven. "...Yes… is something wrong?"

"No. Just... remembering." Danny went to the table, sitting and crossing his arms on the table and plunking his head down atop them.

"...I would be more than happy to make something else, sir..."

The halfa was already shaking his head before Alfred had even finished. "'Sfine."

There was a slight pause from the butler before he continued on. "...Very well. What would you prefer for dessert?"

A shrug was Danny's only response.

"How about some pumpkin ice cream?" When all he received as a reply was another shrug, Alfred gave a slight sigh. "...Okay, pumpkin it is, then." He turned back to the stove, placing down a saucepan to work on the anglaise for the ice cream.

A few minutes later, as Alfred was putting the liquid into an ice cream maker, Damian arrived in the kitchen. "Hello again, Alfred. What is for dinner?"

"Veal Parm, sir."

Damian nodded at the response and sat, glancing over to Danny as the teen's nose wrinkled up but he made no comment.

Another moment passed before Alfred came over with dishes. "Dinner is served, gentlemen."

"Thank you, Alfred," Damian murmured before starting to eat.

There was a long moment where Danny just stared at the plate before he pulled it closer, wrapping an arm around it and digging in with slightly less enthusiasm as normal. Alfred gave the older boy a nervous glance, making a note to himself to check in with him later and to discuss the behavior with Bruce.

As he thought that, the elder Wayne himself entered and sat before his own plate. "Very appetizing, old friend."

Pennyworth gave a small smile. "I always try to surpass expectations."

"You always succeed."

Danny seemed to finally notice the entrance of the patron of the house. "Oh, some Dick called."

Alfred glanced over to him. "Master Grayson?"

"Yeah, I think that's what he said."

"Hm. What did he have to say?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "He's planning a frat party here on Saturday."

Alfred blinked. "...I see."

"Some things never change," Bruce chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Danny stood, taking his plate to the sink. "He also seemed to think I was you."

One of Bruce's brows raised at that. "...Oh, really?"

"Quite amusing." Alfred turned to the sink to hide his amusement.

Danny went to the stairs, grumbling, "Yeah, 'cause I really wanna be thought of as an overgrown frat boy."

Once the teen was upstairs, Damian turned to his father, demanding, "What was all that about?"

Bruce shrugged. "I guess he doesn't care much for veal."

Alfred gave a slight wince. "Quite so, sir. I offered to make something else, but..."

Damian frowned. "Why did he not request something else, then?"

"He seems more… the strong, silent type."

"But..."

Bruce turned to his son, wondering which way this was going to go, considerate or obstinate. "...Yes?"

"He has had no problem voicing his objections before. Why now?"

"He picks his battles. Wise, I must say. Blowing your top at every fork in the road wouldn't get someone very far."

The preteen's frown deepened. "It... does not seem normal, though."

Again, Bruce's brow rose. "How so?"

"He has been picking many fights, regardless of his likelihood of winning. At school, he was overly irritable and Drake mentioned several teachers threatened to send him to the principal."

"Hm." One of Bruce's hands came up, a finger tapping at his chin. "I suppose it's also how someone goes about a situation. In my experience, teachers are notoriously… immovable, and when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force..."

Alfred sighed. "Very true, sir."

But Damian wouldn't accept that thought, scowling. "That is not really an answer to my question. Why is he so... so angry today?"

Bruce thought it over, then gave his own slight frown. "...Perhaps he has some… old feelings arising. Something to do with… the event?"

Damian bit his lip, thinking back over the information he'd been shown about the tragedy in Amity Park. "...It should not be an anniversary, though. The last death's anniversary would have been yesterday, not today."

"...Damian, strong feelings do not tend to leave very quickly."

The boy seemed flustered at the exasperated reminder. "I—I meant, should he not have been irritable yesterday rather than today?"

"Different people react differently."

"Tt. I suppose."

73|_|5' |)!(3

The next morning, Danny was grumbling to himself as he stomped around, gathering his things for school. "Stupid clock, stupid Clockwork, not letting me skip today..."

A voice came from his open laptop on the bed. "You know he doesn't play favorites."

Danny whipped around, glaring at the green face on the screen, snarling, "He used to!"

"Kiddo, you need to wake up and smell the ectoplasm! Clockwork's not going to let you skate by, no matter how much you may want to. You don't let yourself forget your old obsession, why do you want to forget today?"

Danny's expression went blank, emotions shutting down. "...That's different and you know it, Technus..."

The ghost frowned. "I don't see how it is. Both ways you hurt yourself."

The halfa's face darkened at the remark. "I'm really not in the mood, Technus."

"I don't care," Technus bit back, shoulders tensing as he finally showed some of the frustration he's been holding back from the grieving halfa. "Someone needs to kick some sense into you before you wind up ending yourself!"

The comment froze Danny, his body slackening at the anger and concern the other was projecting. "I'm—I'm not gonna end myself, Technus—"

"Funny. Because the way you've been talking, it's like that's the only thing you've been thinking about."

"Technus, I'm not—" Danny took a step closer to the computer even as Technus cut him off again.

"Sorry, kiddo, but I'm calling you out on your bullshit. And I'm not the only one worried, Danny. We all are. You know you've got friends here, right?"

The teen was silent, blinking in shock at the computer.

Technus frowned, seeming to notice that Danny obviously hadn't remembered that. "...Right...?"

Danny bit his lip, rubbing at the back of his neck. "...I—I know…." A knock came at the door, and Danny quickly dove forward and shut the laptop before growling out, "What?"

There was a pause before Alfred's voice called out, "...I apologize if I'm disturbing you, sir. Breakfast is ready, at your convenience. However… you will be leaving for school fairly soon."

"Okay," Danny replied. As footsteps retreated from his door, he turned back to the computer and opened it again, mumbling, "Sorry."

"No, you're not." The ghost sighed. "Take care of yourself, kiddo, or there won't be enough to put you back together like we did last time."

"Technus—"

"Save it for when you mean it, kiddo." The screen went black as the ghost logged off.

Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Dammit..."

Another knock rapped at his door, this time Damian's voice followed before Danny could respond. "Hurry up, you have already missed breakfast."

Danny whipped around, his anger at Technus bleeding through as he snarled at the preteen, "Oh, goodie for me, the runt's come 'round."

There was a pause before Damian parsed out what Danny had said. "What did you call me?!"

A smirk flashed across Danny's face as he anticipated another fight with the kid where he could channel his rage. "Runt! Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Make me!" A moment passed before footsteps stomped away again, and Danny huffed, crossing his arms and squeezing a bit too tight from the anger still coursing through him. "I thought so."

For several minutes, all was quiet, then a cautious voice came through his door once again. "...Would you join us downstairs, Master Fenton? It's time to enter school again."

Danny's jaw clenched. "No."

Alfred sighed. "...Sir, I would greatly appreciate your compliance in this matter. I understand your… aversion to attending Brentwood. However, I believe there will be certain… incentives to your agreeing to cooperate. I don't expect you to relish the institution. I only ask that you attend."

"I'm not going back to Bitchwood."

"I see… shall I speak with Ms. Ouwa about another relocation, then?"

Danny's eyes narrowed as he glared at the door, half glad that he'd be leaving and half mad that these people were tossing him out so soon. "Go ahead."

"...Very well, sir." And again, Danny was listening to footsteps recede.

The halfa growled, grumbling to himself, "I knew it. I knew they'd just pass me off when I got too much for them!" He flopped onto his bed, huffing, "Just like everyone else..."

A third voice called out. "...Danny, we don't want to 'pass you off'. However, if you are adamant at not attending Brentwood, I see it only as a waste of both our times if you stay here much longer. I'm not the type to force someone to do something they're against, but I do not enable someone to do as they please within my own home."

Danny growled his frustration, taking out his Hawk and flinging it at the door, managing to go through the wood and bury to the hilt.

"...Your choice, Daniel," the voice was fading as Bruce walked away.

The halfa snarled, stomping over to grab his knife, then flinging it into the wall over the bed. "UGH!" The teen blindly stormed around the room, tossing his backpack, throwing papers and office supplies off the desk he'd been given, dragging the covers off his bed, and shoving over the dresser, which crashed to the ground loudly. Looking around at his now-wrecked room, Danny leaned against a wall, then slid down it, clawing his nails into his hair and tangling them there. "Dammit!" he snarled, slamming his fists into the floor. "Why the hell does this keep happening?!" Danny threw his head back against the wall, sighing, then winced and rubbed at his head. "Owww..."

From somewhere across the room, tangled up in his blankets, Danny's phone rang. He didn't even look up, just grumbling to himself, "No."

The phone rang again.

Danny groaned, knowing she wouldn't give up calling, and moved to pick up the phone. "Hola, Ouwa."

"What's this I hear about you not wanting to go to school?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm fine, Ouwa, how nice of you to ask..."

There was a pause as Amika parsed out exactly how off Danny was being. "Daniel. What's going on?"

For a long moment, Danny was silent. Amika was just about to start making her own guesses when Danny mumbled, "…She died. Two days ago, she..."

"Oh, Danny…." Amika sighed, knowing all too well how the teen could get around this time of year. "It's okay to let it out. You don't need to be strong all the time."

As much as he tried, Danny couldn't stop the sniffle that came and brushed roughly at his nose. "But... I can't afford not to be..."

"Danny. Go to school. Tough it out. If you need to let it out, you know you can always call me."

There was another long pause as he tried to come up with another excuse but couldn't. He sighed. "Fine. I'll go..."

"Good. Alfred will drive you, since Bruce already left with Damian."

Danny frowned. "How'd you—?"

"Please, Danny, I'm a planner. Have fun at school!" Amika hung up.

The halfa gaped at his phone, realizing he'd been played. "...Manipulative bitch…." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "...Fine." He stood, grabbing his backpack, then paused a moment, looking around at the destruction he'd left in the room. Upon spotting his knife over the bed, he went to it, pulled it free of the wall, flipped it closed, and tucked it away into his pocket before turning to exit the room.

And coming face-to-face with Alfred as he opened the door.

The butler took a step back. "My apologies, sir. I just wanted to see what your decision would be. Before you ask, I was not going to 'camp out' for the day if you still had decided in the negative."

Danny scowled, shoving past. "Whatever. Let's just go."

73|_|5' |)!(3

Danny left his third class of the day, glaring at the floor as people moved out of his way. Damian came up to him, attempting to speak, but the halfa just stormed past. His plan was going well for a while, but a chuckle from behind him cut through his thoughts.

"Get a load of this guy!"

Danny ignored him, trying to keep walking, but noticing that people were no longer dodging out of his way.

"Anyone in there, Mr. Zombie?" the voice called again.

The halfa tried moving to either side, but he was blocked both ways.

"What'sa matter, Fenton? Y'think jus cause you gave Josh a roughing up, you automatically run this place?"

Realizing he wouldn't get past until this asshole said whatever he wanted to say, Danny turned to face him and flatly snapped, "Fuck off, kid."

The kid was chuckling again, ego large for someone as scrawny as he was, though he did have a height advantage on most of his classmates. "As if."

Danny simply glared back at him. "Let me go. I've got class."

"Heh. Look at that. A regular bookworm." The kid looked around, encouraging the ring of students around them to laugh as well.

The halfa rolled his eyes. "It's metalworks, moron."

"Same difference. What, you wanna make your own mail box?"

"Oh, yeah, and I'll mail you in it once it's done."

The kid chuckled again. "Mailing a mailbox? You're quite a character."

Danny rolled his eyes once more. "And you're an idiot. Now, let me pass."

"Why should I?"

"'Cause if you don't, I'll introduce you to the floor like I did Hannigan."

The kid sneered. "Go ahead and try! The way I see it, either you lose the fight, in which case I've proved my point, or you succeed, but then get kicked out."

"Get out of my way."

"No." The kid was tensing, obviously trying to anticipate whatever Danny was about to do.

Danny quickly dropped down and spun into a sweep with his leg to knock the kid's feet out from under him, then stood and shoved his way past the stunned students around them. Danny went into his classroom, sitting in the chair he'd been assigned, and immediately pulled out the scrambler he'd been working on, fiddling with the wires.

A few minutes later, the teacher came in. "Good day, class—Mr. Fenton?"

Danny didn't bother looking up, still working. "What?"

"Nice work out there earlier."

The halfa just continued to tweak the device, deciding to play ignorant. "Dunno what you mean."

"Please. I've been wondering when someone came along and showed Robert what-for."

Danny just pulled open the scrambler's casing, fiddling with a wire before putting the casing back together, still not looking at the teacher. "Well, I'm sure Robert got whatever was coming to him, but I wouldn't know anything about what happened."

The teacher smirked, not believing the teen for a second. "I see." Then, he took a closer look at the device. "Would you mind sharing what you're making this for?"

Danny shrugged. "It was something my parents made once. I just wanted to see if I could recreate it."

"Interesting… either you're quite the prodigy, or… your folks were very technologically inclined."

Another shrug answered the teacher. "They made a lot of stuff like this."

"Ah… well, carry on." Finally the teacher moved away and began looking over the other students' projects.

Danny continued with his work, adding a switch on the front, then pulled open a smaller area of the casing, tweaking something on the hardware.

The PA system let out a loud beep. "Daniel Fenton to the principal's office, please."

Danny rolled his eyes, pocketing the device before grabbing his backpack and trudging through the halls to the office, finding Bruce waiting there, obviously having been called in to deal with the latest incident.

The billionaire gave a slight, knowing grin. "I see you're settling in here quite well, Danny."

The teen's eyes rolled once more, believing he was about to be expelled and finding he didn't care one bit. "Great. So, where're you sending me, then?"

Bruce's grin turned into a smirk. "Nowhere. At least, not to another facility."

One of Danny's brows rose at that. "...You're gonna try to home school me?"

"...In a way. I believe Alfred alluded to some… extra-curricular activities I could help you with...?"

Danny huffed, "Vaguely."

"Well, we can start this afternoon, if you're interested. Either way, you might want to find a less… obvious way of diffusing confrontations."

The halfa's nose wrinkled some. "Or people could just learn to stay out of my way."

Bruce sighed. "Yeah… that rarely happens. Individually, sure, but… there's always another challenger."

"And I'll take out however many it takes," Danny growled with a sneer.

"...Not here, Danny. Nor in any other educational institution. At least… not in the hallways."

"Why the hell not?" The teen's hands were curling into fists at his sides.

Another sigh drifted from the billionaire. "As you probably learned, most 'challengers' in hallways are all-talk cases. However, there are other ways to… prove a point."

"Well, sorry if I find the easiest way to get them off my back is by knocking them down a few pegs."

"Danny, please. I'm not saying you can't prove your point, just that there are other ways of doing so. Quite frankly, such a regular show of force wouldn't be welcomed in any facility… except maybe a prison or military base."

"Weird, my old school seemed fine with these sorts of shows. Or is it only a bad thing when I start fighting back?"

"...Well, one difference is that your former school was probably a public facility; this is not. And, as I said, there are places for such… displays, just," he cleared his throat a bit, "not in the halls." He cast a significant glance at Danny, trying to communicate a further thought to him.

But Danny just scoffed, not caring to focus on what else Bruce was trying to intimate. "That hardly excuses the teachers from turning their backs when kids got shoved down stairs."

Bruce blinked in shock. "...If that occurred in your previous school, there's not much I can do about it. However, if something of that nature were to happen here… let's just say it wouldn't be swept under the rug..."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"That is your prerogative. I don't expect people to believe what I say, but I do expect them to be ready for me to back up my words if and when such actions are necessary. At any rate," Bruce glanced around, "as I said, how you handled yourself thus far isn't exactly wrong, it's just… more than this school is used to. Sure, they have their… class clowns, but it's never anything too physical. Detentions, expulsions, things like that happen. However, this place isn't exactly as accustomed to… physical restraints as I'm sure other locales are."

Danny scowled. "Well, it's what I'm used to, and it's a fairly hard habit to break."

The billionaire nodded. "Understood. I'm not asking you to change yourself. Just… try and minimize any casualties, okay?"

Danny huffed and crossed his arms. "No promises." The bell rang in the distance for classes to change, and Danny leaned a bit to peer around Bruce, raising an eyebrow at the principal who had allowed the billionaire to control the meeting. "Can I go back to class now?"

There was a brief glance between the two adults before the principal simply said, "Sure."

Danny headed back out, practically storming through the hallways until a hand suddenly slammed into his chest. Forward momentum halted, Danny glared at the moron who decided to stop him. "What the hell do you want?"

The teen before him was shorter than the previous attempted-bully but was built more like a footballer, smirking at Danny. "You're pretty confident for a charity case."

Fenton bristled at that. "What did you call me?"

The footballer's smirk widened. "Charity case. What, you want me to call you orphan instead?"

The reminder caused memories of finding his parents' bodies to flare through Danny's mind. Anger coursed through him, and he lunged forward only to be grabbed from either side by the guy's also-football-built buddies. "You'd better shut up before I make you!"

The footballer just laughed, his friends tightening their holds on Danny. "The way I see it, you couldn't make me if you tried!"

Again, Danny attempted to dive at the bully but was held back by his teammates. He glared at each of the idiots holding him before directing it back at the main moron. "Lemme go!"

The bully crossed his arms, sneering. "I don't think so. See, I'm gonna put you back where you belong, on the streets." He threw his fist into Danny's stomach.

The halfa barely even noticed it, used to much worse from his old ghost battles. "Really? That's the best you can do?" He rolled his eyes at them. "You'll have to do better, after all, I'm from the streets." Danny tensed his arms, then used the two holding him as leverage to swing his feet forward into the footballer's chin.

The bully reeled back, holding his jaw and trying to rub some feeling back into it. "The fuck—!"

Danny kicked one leg back and to the side, catching one of his captors in the groin. With an arm free, he turned and swung a punch into the other guy's face. "Something you needa know about the streets?" He stomped down on the guy he hit in the groin as he was trying to get back up, snarling at the head asshole, "They're tougher than some private school snobs."

A voice came from behind Danny. "...I think that's quite enough, Nigel."

The footballer, Nigel, apparently, gaped at the principal who had approached while the group was fighting. "B—But... he hit me!"

The principal shook his head. "Please, Nigel. You can't pull the wool over my eyes."

"B—But—!"

Danny just rolled his eyes, turning to head towards his next class when the principal attempted to call to him but was interrupted as Bruce came up beside him and placed a hand on the administrator's shoulder.

"In your office," the billionaire suggested. "Now."

73|_|5' |)!(3

Original A/N, April 2017: I wanna put out there right now, I'm not gonna apologize for the time this is taking for one very important reason, my health comes before my writing. Since last year, I've literally been in severe pain every single day, went to five different doctors, two PTs, and a therapist, and I still have no answer to what's causing the pain and no suggestion outside of "see a pain management doctor." (Update: working theory's currently fibromyalgia, which is incurable, usually unaffected by meds, and apparently means my doctors aren't "trying hard enough" to find a solution when I mention my diagnosis to people.) I've been frustrated and sick and fricking depressed for over a year, so I'd really rather not hear any complaints about how long my stories are taking to come out. It also doesn't help that my concentration/motivation's shot to all hell on just about everything. Only story I've managed to make headway on this past year isn't even one that's posted yet.

Current A/N, Jan 2020: Yes, this has been up on my laptop, being typed and retyped and portions deleted and added back in for three years while I deal with health shit, work shit, school shit, and driving shit. I had a bad car accident that put me out of work for almost a year but I wasn't given disability pay for some reason (it's possible one of my bosses fucked me over on paperwork but I have no proof), I lost one part-time job that I loved and quit the one that I was starting to hate, went back to school to get a nail tech license, worked for a bit at a salon but was basically used as an errand girl instead of a nail tech so I made fricking nothing, got injured while on one of those errands and was out for a week then came back to find my pay from the week before had been stolen from my desk and wound up quitting because I was close to suicidal about not being considered good enough to work on clients there other than children and people who wanted super simple manicures, got a job at a daycare because during nail tech school I was babysitting and realized I love being around/taking care of kids, lost my health insurance and was off all my meds for two months, nearly lost my dad to legionnaire's disease, and now I currently am in a boot because I somehow sprained three ligaments in a foot I've previously had surgery on for torn ligaments, so I'm trying to figure out how to fit PT in between working at a daycare, getting a couple kids ready and off to school in the mornings, and trying to remember chores around the house so my roommates don't get mad at me. Even better, I'm currently down with the flu and bleeding out through my nose while finishing this so wheeeee.

TLDR: it's been a crappy few years. Sorry. Zeus' Dice and Living Life Through Fear will eventually be completed, guys, it just might take me a while since my life's been pretty determined to kill me. I do love hearing from you guys even if I haven't managed to reply to people, and I really love all the thoughts about where it's going/how certain intros will go (especially since I'm totally excited for a few of them, too), but asking or demanding about updates has actually turned into kinda a trigger for my depression at times, so please try not to mention updates in comments, thanks.