Author's Note: Hey all! Well, first off, I want to thank you all for the wonderful response this story has gotten. I've had so much fun writing this story and this series. I will be continuing on in this Universe, so after this story is done, please expect more. Here's a shout out to reviewers who can't sign in, so I can't respond to them personally. You know who you are! And here's a special "hello" to Sporks. Pietro's very embarrassed that he lost his face-shirt, but Dick didn't burn them all. Wally has a stash, and yes, OCD, Connor will get one :D. Well take care and enjoy the last chapter and epilogue of From Yesterday

Chapter 17

"Nah, Troll-face! You go through there and we won't get the ultimate weapon! It'll disappear forever! Give—just give me that!"

"No! You told me I could play!"

I poke my head inside the den. Jason and Tim are on the couch wrestling for a video game controller with a bowl of spilled popcorn on the floor in front them. Should I jump in the fight—and if I do, who should I help?

Hmm… Jason grunts as Tim gets him in the eye with an elbow, and Tim yelps as Jason bends one of his fingers back. Aw heck, I owe Timmy one. I launch myself on top of them, and get Jase in a headlock.

"Yargh!" Jason yells, trying to flip me over as Tim pries the video game controller from his fingers.

"Hah!" Tim shouts, victorious. Jason wails and struggles in my hold and I tickle him under his arms before letting him go. I laugh as Jason grabs me, pinning me beneath him. I use my legs to kick him off, and we roll off the couch into the popcorn, crunching it into the carpet. (Alfie's gonna love that.)

Jason's rough fingers aren't good at tickling, but he tries anyway, and I laugh just because he is. He's back on top of our rumble, and he's flushed and grinning, eyes sparkling. I love that he's so happy. I haven't seen him like this in a long time. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna let him win. I flip him again, but before I can pin him, he breaks my hold and flips me.

"Tim, gimme a hand!" he says, and little traitor Timmy appears, holding my arms, so Jason can sit on my knees.

"Dude, I just helped you!" I complain.

"I owe Jay," Tim says with a smirk and I give him a mock sneer, but inside I'm grinning. Tim's eyes are dancing. I don't think I've ever seen this kid having such a good time.

I feel Jason shifting around and glance at him to see what he's… "OH CRAP!"

Jason's socks are off, and he stretches his Monkey Paws toward my face. Those long toes are reaching for me, and I won't let it happen. "NOO!" I buck him off, but Tim's still got me. I kick my legs up and flip over Tim, bringing him down.

I'm free! I bounce back, dropping into a fighting stance as my little brothers circle me. Damn, they're thick as thieves. When did I become the one to gang up on? They rush me and we all fall on the ground again, tackling and tickling and laughing, popcorn a crispy blanket under us.

"Boys!"

We break apart, staring up at Bruce from the floor. I pick popcorn kernels out of my hair and try not to laugh at Bruce's WTF expression. His blue eyes go from me, to Tim, to Jason, before a tiny smile cracks his face.

"I think Alfred's going to have you all washing dishes this afternoon."

"Uh… I'm not gonna be here this afternoon, I'm going with you," Jason says, brushing popcorn off his collared shirt. I blink and do a double-take. A collared shirt… tucked into his jeans with a belt? What the…?

Bruce eyes Jason. "Not looking like that."

"Ah, come on. It'll just take me a sec to get this popcorn off…and to find my shoes. Dickhead, what'd you do with my shoes?" Jason's glaring at me and I stick my hands up.

"I didn't touch your nasty shoes," I say. Gross. "You shoulda kept them on insteada trying to put your monkey toes on my face!"

Jason scowls at me and stomps around the couch, probably looking for his shoes.

"You've got ten minutes, Jason," Bruce says, but I know he'll wait for however long it takes for Jason to be ready. Bruce's eyes have the same sparkle that Jason's and Tim's do.

Some people's families come together over Sunday dinners, and weddings, and Bar Mitzvahs. My family comes together over combat that ends with concussions and shot-out kneecaps. I don't think we'll ever win a medal for being an all-American apple pie family, but who wants that anyway? Boring.

"What are you and Jase gonna go do?" I ask, turning over the popcorn bowl and scooping some kernels back into it.

"We're going to Wayne Enterprises," Bruce says.

"Somebody's gotta learn the other family business," Jason's voice comes from behind the couch. His head pops up over the back of it, and he waves a shoe. "Got 'em!"

I grin at him. "You're gonna be a business man?"

"Well, you can't sit still long enough to go to meetings and make sure Wayne Enterprises doesn't burn down, and Tim's gonna have his Drake business to run when he gets bigger, so…" Jason shrugs, shooting a shy look at Bruce, and biting his bottom lip on a smile. "I get one biz, and you get the other, Dickie-bird."

I laugh. God, I feel good. "Really, Brucie? You're already talking about who you're gonna leave it all to? You're not that old!" I yelp as Bruce lunges forward and wrestles me to the ground.

"Pile up!" Jason shouts, and next thing I know I'm being attacked by Jason and Tim, too.

Once again, when did I become the one to gang up on? Bruce holds me down as Jason pulls the neck of my shirt out and Tim pours popcorn down my back.

"No fair!" I cry, laughing until tears run down my cheeks. Bruce turns on Jason, wrestling him now, and I look to Tim, who drops the bowl of popcorn and starts to bolt. I grab his leg and drag him to me. Revenge time!

"Boys!"

Bruce, Tim, Jason and I stop, looking up at Alfred from the floor. Alfred's hands are on his hips as he gives us all the "Alfie eye". "Master Bruce, you and Master Jason had best clean up if you're to be going anywhere. Master Tim, you have homework to complete. And Master Dick, Master Wallace is outside in that horrible car of his waiting for you."

"Yes, Alfred," we chime in unison. I get up, and pull Tim up with me. Jason and Bruce stand, brushing popcorn off each other. We line up, waiting for Alfie to pass judgment on us.

"Tomorrow evening you all will be washing dishes," Alfred says, then he winks and a small smile twitches under his moustache. "Now, off with you all. Children." He tuts, shaking his head and leaving the room.

Once Alfie is gone, I start laughing and Bruce ruffles my hair.

"How many times are you and Wally going to stop before you get to Bayville?" Bruce asks.

I pluck popcorn out of my shirt. "As many times as I have to pee, I promise, but it's only a two hour drive."

"You should wear a diaper," Jason snorts. "That'll fix your… ugh!" I smack him over the head and he punches me in the chest.

"You two drive safely," Bruce says. "And give Pietro this." He pulls his leather wallet out of his back pocket and fishes out a wad of bills, and I start in surprise.

"Bruce…" I say, but he shakes his head.

"It's so he can buy a Team Grayson Sweatshirt. I hear they're quite stylish," Bruce says with a smirk that turns into a laugh when I rush him. He traps me easy, pinning my back to his chest, and gives me a quick hug. "Ask Wally to save one for me, too. I'll need it to wear to Nationals."

I'm beaming so hard my face hurts. "You're comin'?"

"I don't see Wayne Enterprises or Batman having anything to do next month that will keep me from sitting in the stands. It's…" He looks off toward something beyond me as I step away from him and turn to face him. I follow his eyes; he's looking at the portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne on the far wall.

"It's time we started doing more things together as a family," Bruce says. "Something besides fighting."

"No more wrestling?" Jason asks, sounding put out.

Bruce chuckles. "Wrestling's okay."

From outside, a car horn honks.

"I guess I gotta go," I say, but I kinda don't want to leave. This scene with my brothers and Bruce is too awesome. It's like a great dream I don't want to wake up from because it might not be real.

Jason slaps me on the back, crunching some leftover popcorn in my shirt. "Tell the Black Hole, I said 'what's up.'"

"And tell him I said, 'hi', too," Tim says. He frowns, looking at the television screen and to the forgotten game controller lying under the coffee table. "Uh-oh, the game's not paused."

"What? Did we miss getting the ultimate weapon! Ah…!"

I leave the room on Jason's groan and Bruce's voice asking, "What are you two talking about?"

I pass Alfred in the hall; he's holding a blue tin.

"Have a good trip, Master Dick. Give Master Pietro my best, and these." Alfred hands me the tin and I give it a shake. Sounds like homemade toffee crunch cookies. I raise the tin to my nose and sniff. Smells like toffee crunch cookies, too.

"Thanks, Alfie! I'll make sure Pietro gets one!" I jog away, laughing as Alfie tuts behind me. I go through the front door, and wave at Wally sitting in his red 2002 Honda on the driveway. He rolls down the driver's side window and sticks his head out.

"Took you long enough!" he shouts. "Dude, are those cookies?"

"Yup!" I slide into the passenger seat and buckle up before Wally backs down the driveway and through the open gate. "They're for Pietro… so we can't eat them all."

Wally grins. "Well, if we ditch the tin before we get to Bayville, he'll never even know he had anything." He turns up the radio. Glad You Came is playing, and I sing along as we hit the road.

(~*~)

The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters bustles with life. There are kids running around everywhere. They're playing touch football in the front yard, and there's shouting from the back. A guy with flaming red hair and sunglasses with red lenses is washing a sports car in the driveway; there's a pop and a puff of smoke and a skinny blue guy in baggy shorts appears with a bucket of soapy water.

I feel like I'm in the circus again with all these different acts going on around me. Wally's tugging on my sleeve and pointing at a group of teenage girls sitting around a stone fountain giggling and pointing at us.

"Dude…the one in the middle is hot!" Wally hisses in my ear.

"Wonder if Artemis would agree," I say, cackling. I let Wally push me.

As we make our way to the front doors, the guy in the red sunglasses comes to meet us. "Hey," he says, sounding friendly enough, but there's some suspicion in his expression. "I'm Scott. You guys are…?"

"Richard, Pietro's cousin. Uh, this is my friend, Wally," I say. "Nice to meet ya. Can we just go on in? Pietro's expectin' us now." I had texted Tro when we got to the iron gate sealing the driveway, and it had opened.

"Oh yeah, sure!" The suspicion in Scott's face doesn't fully disappear, but he stays friendly enough. He walks us to the door and opens it to reveal a wide foyer that leads to a spiraling staircase. The sounds of crutches on tile make me look to the left where Pietro's slowly but surely making his way over to us.

He looks tired and his face is strained, but he shakes his head when Scott looks ready to go to him. "I'm fine, Summers. Hey DG! Hey Wally."

Pietro stops in front of us, balancing on his crutches. He's wearing a t-shirt that says "Sarcasm is the body's natural defense against stupid", and snap-on pants. I frown at the bruises on his pale arms, and he follows my look. "Physical therapy is rough, dude."

"Yeah?" I give him a gentle hug, not wanting to knock him over. He's a lot stronger than he was when he'd left Gotham General for this place a week ago, but he still looks fragile. "Got some presents for ya. Alf sent some cookies and Bruce sent a little something for ya, too."

I casually slide Bruce's cash into one of Tro's pockets and pat his shoulder when I'm done. Pietro looks troubled for a moment, then his face clears and he looks from me to Wally. "Where are the cookies?"

"Uh…" Wally scratches the back of his head. "Well, ya see, Dickie here pees a lot. So we had to stop so many times that it really slowed us down getting here, and I got hungry. I mean, you know how it is. I gotta eat, and those cookies…mmmm…"

"You ate my cookies, man?" Pietro shakes a crutch in Wally's direction. "Wait 'til I'm off these. I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Wally sticks out his tongue.

"Ahem." Scott clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. "Hey, I'm gonna leave you guys to it. Have fun."

We watch Scott leave, and I chuckle as Pietro rolls his eyes in the guy's direction. "You don't like him?" I ask.

"He's… gah…" Pietro shudders. "I mean… I guess he's okay, sometimes." He twists on his crutches and starts leading us down a hall to his room. The house isn't as big as Wayne manor but it's still impressive and we pass quite a few doors before we get to Pietro's.

"I get a room to myself, thank God," Pietro says as he opens the door. "But I think it's cause nobody wants to room with Magneto's kid." He sounds a little bitter, but he smiles at Wally and me all the same as he gestures around the decent-sized room.

There's a full-size bed and two large picture windows covered by red curtains. He's got two dressers, a full length mirror and a desk.

"I share a bathroom down the hall with two other guys. They're pretty clean, so it's okay," Pietro says off-handedly. He plops on his bed with a pained grunt and lies down, massaging his under arms. "So…what do you think I should do to this place? Uncle Charles says I can paint it if I want."

I hum. The walls are white and blank; there are no personal effects in the room at all. Everything is standard issue. Bruce was right to give Pietro some cash. He's gonna need a lot of stuff to make this place home for him.

"Um… you don't have any stuff from that other place you lived in?" Wally asks.

"The Boarding House with the Brotherhood?" Pietro asks. "Nah, not really. Just a few things." He stares at the ceiling. "Lance brought my stuff by the other day. It all fits in one drawer."

"Lance?" Bowl Head had come by?

"Yeah, he heard what happened, you know, with," Pietro waves a hand at his legs, "and came to check on me. He's still pissed at me for what I did to him, but he's glad I'm gonna get better. Next time he comes around, he says he'll bring Todd and Fred."

Pietro's voice is light, almost wondrous, like he can't believe it.

"So, those guys are your friends after all?" Wally asks, not looking too happy.

Pietro smirks. "Yeah, I guess so, but I can't hang out with them too much. They're still connected to Mystique and Magneto. I wish they'd get out, too."

I flop down on his bed next to him. "Maybe they will. I'm glad you guys are cool again, though." I know it'd been hurting him.

"How are your legs, man?" Wally asks, pacing the room and opening drawers. "You know when you're gonna be up and runnin'?"

"I don't know. I been off the power suppressants for a few days, and I'm healing up fast. Might not need the crutches in a week, but it hurts like a bitch," Pietro says. "Dr. McCoy says it's normal."

"What about scarring?" I ask.

"I'll have a few permanent ones, won't be wearing shorts too often," Pietro says. "But that's okay. I never really wore shorts much anyway. I got pale, chicken legs to hide."

Wally laughs. "Dickie-bird never tries to hide his chicken legs."

"I don't have chicken legs!" I pick up one of Pietro's pillows and throw it at Wally. It catches him in the chest and he crows.

"Oh yeah you do! Glad you changed up your costume to include long pants!" Wally says. He plants himself on the bed, too. "So dudes… we going to store to buy stuff or we gonna chill for a bit?"

"We just got out of the car, Wall. Let's chill," I say, rolling onto my back. Tro's new bed is nice, but the comforter is thin and starchy like hospital bedding.

"All right, we chill… and talk chicks. Dude, there are some seriously hot chicks living in this place. One of them was totally making eyes at me," Wally says.

"Don't you have a woman, man?" Pietro asks.

"I can still look!"

I snort and listen to Wally's rambles and Pietro's interjections as I study the white walls of the room. Maybe we can paint it blue or green, and we'll need to get some posters and put up some pictures. We so gotta to take pictures. All families need to have plenty of those.

I turn my head, now studying the light smile on Pietro's lips as he listens to Wally. He's not beaming and sparkling like Tim, Jason and Bruce, but he's gonna be okay, too… and that thought puts another smile on my face that has nothing to do with Crest.

Epilogue

I thought Dick had forgotten about it. So much shit went on between when he said he'd help me and now, I wouldn't have blamed him if he did forget. But my bro ain't like that, so I really shouldna been surprised when he told me he'd found somethin'.

I sit with him at his desktop, staring at three profiles. Three ladies, all alive and out there… and any one of 'em could be my real mom.

"So, what do you want to do?" Dickie-bird asks. "You wanna tell Bruce?"

I'm reading the computer files over his shoulder, but when he asks that I stop.

"I wanna find her Dickie. I gotta meet these ladies and find out which one gave me up and why," I say and he looks at me with those big blue saucers of his.

"Then you gotta tell Bruce."

"Tell me what?"

Both me and Dickie freeze for a second, then I turn around and Dick spins in his computer chair, to see Bruce in the doorway wearing a tank top and work-out shorts, covered in sweat. "What's going on guys?"

Dick nudges me forward by kicking my leg and I stomp on his foot, before I go closer to Bruce. "I want to find my birth mother, Bruce, and I know where to look for her. Will you help me?"

THE END

Next story in the Black and Red Universe: Black and Gold

Author's Note: So, what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Well, any way you liked it, let me know. Please review!