Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or its characters.

Gotham Academy rarely had reasons to rent out buses, unless the Mathletes were heading out to a competition during a school day, which was in this case the reason. It was a long bus, twenty four sets of seats on both sides, all brown and leathery lacking an ultimate structure to cause sore tendons or muscles from a lengthened time of lack of motion.

There were twenty Mathletes in all, ten boys and ten girls to be fair, but every occupied seat had at least two people in them. All the emptier seats were the first few sets closer to the driver which were occupied with the bags of equipment, snacks and simple things like jackets and umbrellas in case the worst came. Somewhere in the middle of the bus, Dick and Barbara shared a seat, the ebony by the window and the auburn on the outside. They sat across from Danica and Thomas, caught up in heavy conversation about whatever it was that had lost Dick's interest quite quickly.

He had his eyes out the window, thinking about last night's practice and how he had come barely atoms from dropping Kid Flash straight to the enemy and how he needed to adjust his speed before they went on call again. Or maybe it was his trajectory that needed a tweak. If he could come in a bit lower, it would propel even a millisecond faster and they wouldn't face that problem again because there wouldn't be an atom to miss in the first place.

"Dick!" Barbara's elbow hitting his funny bone snapped him back from his thoughts with a jump, causing him to whir with a tilt of his head.

She giggled at his innocence, lovingly running a hand down the middle of his face with a grin.

"You're not even listening to us, are you?" she accused teasingly, pretending to be upset with a little pout.

Dick's cheeks turned scarlet and he averted his eyes. "I… N-no, sorry, Babs. Just doing some thinking."

She reached up and ran her fingers gently through his gelled back locks to even it out in the way that always made him purr like a kitten, something that would always draw a little giggle or squeak of happiness from her, no matter the situation.

"You're always 'doing some thinking', Grayson," she teased, pulling her hand back and grinning widely at how genuinely upset he looked when she stopped playing with his hair.

"Because I have enough of a brain to actually think, Gordon," he retorted, glancing back out the window casually.

"Hey! The only reason you're on this team is because your daddy paid for you to get a spot," she tossed back, tossing her hair.

In a second though, she gave a cry as Dick was straddling her waist, eyes wide with what was easily pure terror, pressing a hand to either side of her shoulders and bracing his back to the seat in front of them, adjusting his legs so they helped brace the red haired girl inside his barrier.

"Go limp!" he cried to anyone with ears.

Barbara was the only one who listened, calming her muscles, everyone else looking at Dick with a confused expression as a sudden blare of horns had them screaming. Barbara joined them, Dick close with gritted teeth and eyes screwed as tightly closed as they could be, the bus already starting its tilt. It only took a little push from the seven cars all slamming on their brakes behind them to force the bus into an easy seven twenty, the screams dying out as kids rocketed to the ceiling, Barbara and Dick not included.

When the bus was still, unconscious bodies littered the seats all around the two, shrapnel and rubble surrounding them like carpet and wallpaper, something simple and expected, like that was where it all belonged. Dick had himself unbraced now, an arm tight around the older girl to comfort her until he felt her arm twitch. Then he climbed off of her, kneeling on the seat, lifting her hair and kissing her forehead before he slid off his tuxedo jacket.

"Stay here, Babs," he commanded in a dark voice, pulling out his utility belt and sliding it over his shoulders like a sash.

She watched in a state or traumatization, unable to do anything but just sit there and blink with agape lips. Soon, his navy eyes were hidden by a domino mask and a bandana was slid over the bridge of his nose to mask everything that the actual mask failed too. His slacks were kicked off to show a pair of spandex, only a little thicker than the traditional kind the paralyzed girl was used to seeing.

"I'm going to get everyone out of here," he picked up her hands and held them close for a second before he jumped the seat and kicked out one of the windows, running to the very start of the pile-up.

It was easier than it looked, running along the edges of the tipped transports until he came to the truck in the front that was bent into an acute angle. He was quick to pull a bat-bomb out and launch it, blowing off the doors and easily dragging drivers and passengers out onto the street, moving car-to-car until a wake of people and shrapnel traced him back. He made sure to go right past the bus, helping as many people as he could, which was everyone.

He paused on each unmoving body, feeling for a pulse before moving on, making sure everyone was breathing and just unconscious. The only scare he had was when a little girl had choked on her peanuts and he had to give her CPR. She was up and coughing in a matter of seconds though, watching him with wonder-filled eyes as she gave him a kiss on the bandana and asked to marry him. She was five, mind you, but Dick was flattered nonetheless.

He just kept along, simply nodding to the conscious civilians until he seemed to have everyone, bolting back to the bus and scaling back into the bus where Barbara hadn't moved an inch. Her eyes darted from the seat to him, watching as he lost the disguise and donned his jacket and slacks again, adjusting the best he could before sitting beside her.

"Are you okay?" he calmly asked, taking her hand and cocking his head to the side.

"Y-you… m-mask… b-b-belt… w…?" she was at a loss of words.

Dick smirked, giving a little giggle before unfolding the belt and slipping a batwing into her palm and pocketing the prism again with a sparkle to his eyes.

"Let's just say I have connections, babe. Now, we need to get the others out of here. Were you hurt or can you help me?" he kept his voice level, meeting her eyes, a way that marvelously managed to keep her calm.

She shook her head slowly to snap from her trance, testing her fists and moving everything cautiously until she decided she was fine and nodded confidently. She stood to her feet and went to the emergency door at the back, standing on a seat top, trying to unlatch it.

"No use, Babs. It's been dented. We have to kick it. Don't want to risk anything. On three?" he stood across from her, a lot shorter of course, and a lot more balanced.

She hesitated before she actually understood what he was asking her to do.

"Oh… right. Yeah. Three," she nodded her head, watching him carefully.

"Two," he followed, going slow.

"One," she confidently finished before they both raised their shoes and struck the door hard, enough to break it from the bus but not to the floor. "One more time?"

Dick nodded and they did, clattering the emergency door to the ground in a way that conveniently set a ramp from the bus floor to the asphalt far below. The ebony beamed at her, hugging her tight with a giggle before darting down the rows- well, the official windows, but that's a lot of unnecessary details. He grabbed one body at a time, having two slid down after checking pulse before he stared expectantly up at Barbara.

"Are you really just going to stand there and make me do everything?" he accused her, causing her to blush and dart after him to grab the other students.

He giggled at her, touching his temple to her shoulder as he passed her, they continuously trading off taps until everyone but the driver was out. That's when the joking faded fast. Dick's face darkened and he bit his lip. His hands were in Barbara's again, taking the batwing from her grasp.

"I need you to go down there and wake up who you can," he slipped out smelling salts and set them in her palm, closing her fingers around them.

"What are you going to do?" her eyebrows furrowed nervously.

He grinned and gestured to the bloody mess that was their driver.

"I'm going to be a hero," he winked at her before they split up and he knelt at the mess of flesh and leather.

The first thing he found was a wrist and he felt it, waiting and counting the beats. Alive, but barely. He moved fast, straddling the steering wheel with a foot on either side of the driver's head. He bent down, driving the wing against the seatbelt until the material split down the middle and he had one arm free. It was a grueling process, but five minutes later, the upper torso wasn't bound by seatbelt. He worked faster, scolding himself as he did until twenty minutes had gone by and police sirens were starting to sound in the distance.

"ABOUT TIME!" he dramatically called, straightening up to cheer and smacking his head on the mirror.

He hissed in pain, facing a reminder that he still had a guy to save.

"Sorry, Frank," he apologized to the driver and knelt down, now cutting at the seat viciously until he heard footsteps.

They were uneven, perky and eager if anything, shy and quiet meaning not too heavy and scared to approach.

"Is everyone awake, Gordon?" he asked her without looking, hissing as the wing pierced his fingers again. "Working with these for years and I still get cut…"

He managed to cut into where the seat belt met the seat, cutting it off so he could easily just peel the actual belt from sight. Now he had to lessen the lap bar. Great.

"Um… yeah, Dick… they're fine… do you… do you want some help?" she offered, brushing her hair back.

Dick looked her up and down once before handing her another batwing and scaling to the head of the seat, using it to reach over and hook his legs to the mirror, hanging upside down to see past the indention of the crash to actually get to where the rest of the seat belt was hidden. The hook was smashed, ultimately trapping the belt, meaning that it had to be cut off too. Great. He started sawing at it calmly.

"That'd be awesome! Just start cutting at the lap belt there. We have to get him out of here. He has a concussion, a broken arm and a fractured wrist. I haven't even seen below the waist, but I'd bet he'll be in a wheelchair for a year or less. He'll definitely need rehab…" he mumbled a diagnosis under his breath as the two sat there and sawed until they both gave a unison holler of excitement, high-fiving excitedly.

Dick managed himself down to the windowed floor, pocketing their batwings discretely seeing that the sirens will still pretty loud, helping peel the driver out with Babs and dragging him to the ramp, leaving him at the top when they spotted the EMTs.

"Peter Pan and Wendy turned out fine, so won't you fly with me?" the ebony sang Jonas Brothers' like a pro, holding his hand out for Barbara to take, taking the ramp with her to the bottom once assured that the EMTs had it covered.

They made sure everyone was okay, Dick discretely keeping an ear out.

"How did you get out of your car ma'am? It looks like it exploded on this half!" he heard a distant police officer note.

"My guardian angel came and saved me… only he was wearing a mask and a bandana… reminded me of that one singer in the Hollywood band…" she sounded maybe thirty, so it was understandable that she couldn't identify Charlie Scene from Hollywood Undead.

For all he knew, it could've been a bit of amnesia. At least she remembered to speak, right? He felt a little better, grinning excitedly to himself. He lost it though when a police officer strode over with a quick stride, hard to his feet, showing that he knew what he was doing and he wasn't afraid of anything here. He had been an officer long, Dick could easily assume.

"You kids alright?" he asked them, glancing around from face-to-face, relieved to find all 20 of them standing and talking.

Dick decided to speak for them by issuing a single nod.

"God bless it," he grinned, setting a hand to the ebony's shoulder, "Now you can go home, kid, and tell your parents you love 'em. Today just shows that you might lose your chance to one day."

Dick's face tightened and he tore from the man's grip.

"I lost that chance five years ago," he growled, disappearing among the cars and the wreckage, leaving the officer with an astonished expression, softening his footsteps for the next few hours.

Dick brokenly sighed, glancing from one tombstone to the other, cupping his face in his hands.

"We were in a bus crash today… I saved everyone. I got them out of their cars. Barbara knows I'm something different now though… she's really good at the hero stuff. I'll have to talk to Bruce about it… I just… I came here because the officer who came to check on us told us to go and tell our parents we love them because we might not ever have the chance…"

He was silent a moment, sniffling hard and wiping a hot stream of tears from his cheek. It was always just his right eye that cried when he was depressed. It made him look like Two-Face, but that wasn't always bad. He felt like two people in the inside, it might as well reflect.

"I love you guys… I wish I had the chance to tell you… God, I miss you guys. So much. I… I miss having parents… being tucked in… having my pictures on the fridge… getting my hair tousled… being hugged… I… I miss having someone to come home to… I just want you guys back… it's not fair… I'm one of the good guys… it's not fair…"

Wow. That escalated quickly. Anyway, this is kind of like my version of the very beginning to how Barbara became Batgirl. I got the idea when our bus crashed. Review?

-F.J. III