The door closed behind him with a resounding crash of finality. Dick grimaced. A swirl of emotions fought for prominence as he thought back to the words he had spoken and to the subsequent reaction.
He exhaled slowly and stared at the beauty of the Manor that rolled out in front of him as far as the eye could see. The peace out there was a stark contrast to the hostility he’d just caused with his announcement. He could hear Bruce and Alfred arguing from this side of the closed door.
With a sigh, Dick strode to one of the chairs on the verandah and dropped into it. He leaned forward, elbows on knees and sank his chin into his hands accompanied by an audible groan.
It was his decision to make. This wasn’t a decision for anyone else... no matter how much Bruce and Alfred insisted on having a say.
His final comment rung in his ears. His business he’d said. Of course, his business was their business. He was grateful they cared enough to try and make him change his mind but this was his decision. And his mind was well and truly made up. Besides, he was almost seventeen - hardly a child.
It wasn’t as if he’d made the decision lightly. He’d weighed up the pros and cons, his own tolerance for pain and so forth. He understood Bruce and Alfred wanted to look after him but this was his decision and he was happy to pay the consequences.
The door to his left swung open with such ferocity it almost left its hinges. A beast from hell appeared.
Dick rose to his feet. “Bruce...”
“Dick Grayson, you are going to the dentist!”
© December 2010 Aussie Nightwriter : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics and thank them sincerely for turning a blind eye so I can borrow them. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.