Chapter Text
Damian walked into his "homeroom" right on time, as always, and made a beeline for his seat. It was the 2nd seat away from the window in the 2nd row of 4 rows of seats. The edge would have been better but he would accept it, the placement got a point up for being assigned to him. He much preferred it when teachers created seating charts-especially if the charts stayed the same or were only changed after prior warning- than when the class was given free seating. On the one hand, with free seating, he was in control of where he went, but there was no way of knowing who would sit down next to him or if his seat would be claimed by someone before him the next day. With assigned seats he could count on the fact that his desk would be his everyday. The fact that who he sat next to was predetermined by the teacher didn't bother him like it did to many. Until very recently he hadn't had any school friends, and the ones he had now weren't in his classes. It was very possible that all his teachers could put him next to students he actively disliked instead of just tolerated, but if it was a daily occurrence then that meant he could prepare for it.
He saw the elderly woman that was his teacher, Ms.Chandler, attempt to take attendance as the bell rang out above them. She had to do it a 2nd time though, as she had to everyday, when a group of 3 stragglers came into the classroom conversing. This was something Damian would sometimes spend time perplexing. The school day started at Gotham's Prep Academy everyday at 8:30 Ante Meridiem, Coordinated Universal Time-5:00, and according to the school's records it had done so for the past 27 years. As this is a private school, one would think that either the students themself or the students' parents, in which case the students would be receiving indirect pressure, would care deeply about their education. Not everyone has money to spend where they wish to like his father. Why would anyone that cares deeply about their education and has already spent thousands of American dollars on it be so willing to be tardy? It just didn't make sense.
Dong
"Good morning, students and staff! It is October 23rd* and-as I'm sure you're all aware-a Monday which means learning can start once again! Before you begin your classes today however, I would like to invite all of you to come to the gym for an assembly in 5 minutes. Now, please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance…"
Damian's eyes stayed bored into the wall. Let everyone else participate in the patriotic cult ritual, they couldn't legally make him take part. Besides, he had bigger problems. The vice principal-Mr.Green-had said they were all "invited" down to the gym. Invitations could be declined. But people made a habit of using words like "invite" and "opportunity" to make orders sound "nicer" to those that are fragile minded.
Damian had never been to a school assembly-they were typically held at the start and end of the school year and its segments from what he could tell and he had been admitted two weeks into the 2nd trimester-but he had seen well enough of Drake, Brown, and Grayson's teenager shows to know he would find them more than tedious. He knew it was going to be loud, crowded, and incredibly useless. Perhaps he could find a way to skip it to do something productive, such as studying. His teachers telling them they should study more was a weekly occurrence, surely they would see it as a good reason.
"Damian, don't waste your time in that seat or else all the good ones will be gone!" Damian startled as Ms.Chandler called to him. Apparently he had been lost in his thoughts long enough to draw attention. He tried not to let the fact that no one should have been able to catch him off guard affect him.
He internally cringed as he stepped into the hallway. The halls were usually very noisy and crowded but today even more so as every one flocked to the same place. He tried his best to stay by the wall so that he could keep everybody in sight, but it was hard to do so with every person pushing each other around. It didn't help that he typically walked much faster than the average person of his size and age so he had to actively remind himself to slow down so as to not cause himself or others to trip. Somehow though the gym decibel level was even higher.
This of course was not Damian’s first trip to the gym even if he didn’t have Physical Education until next trimester. Damian had examined every room in the building within his first week just in case of an emergency. But this was Damian’s first time seeing the gym so full. Over half the bleachers were already full of students and staff cramend shoulder to shoulder and yet the stream of students still coming in seemed never ending. He watched as his classmates ran to different points across the gym to meet up with their friends that had already arrived. It was like all of them were training bots that had been preprogrammed to know exactly where to go and he didn’t have the right version of the code. All the bots would get to their final destinations and then the anomaly, the bug, him, would be left standing there like an idiot because some higher power had thought it would be funny to give him different instructions. Who in their right mind decides to host an assembly at a second’s notice? If he had known he could have planned. Could come up with something to make this situation better or for this situation to have never occurred at all. Why couldn’t it just be that everyone sat with their class? Or with their clubs? Some sort of organization to the utter cha-
“DAMIAN!”
Damian’s head spun around as he heard his name, not just get called out, but be called out correctly and happily. There were very few people in this school that knew just how to say his name right, let alone wouldn’t be shouting it in a mocking tone. His eyes landed on Skylar, the girl who had invited him to do art with her and some others after school a month ago, sitting in the middle of the bleacher section 2nd from the entrance he came in. She was waving at him with a toothy grin on her face. On her side farther away from him he could see a blond 3rd grader with glasses he remembered as Justin and a curly haired girl in 5th grade named Grace, both of whom frequented the art room after school. On Skylar’s other side was a mostly empty section of bleacher that she was beckoning to. She was inviting him to sit with them.
Damian focused on his breath and getting it to the point that people around him wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary as he made his way over to his comrades in the way of artistry. He bristled as he walked through the jungle of feet between the aisle and where Skylar and the others were. When he sat down leaving a very clear line of bleacher between them he watched her face for a reaction. Would she be offended that he wasn't comfortable sitting shoulder to shoulder with her like everyone else seemed to be? Was this a part of the culture that he would get in trouble for not understanding? He was comforted to find no reaction other than a smile at his presence on her face. Behind her Justin waved and then proceeded to almost trip despite being seated. From what he could tell from the short duration of their acquaintance Justin was probably the most clumsy person in the school. Grace nodded in his direction without a second glance as she pulled Justin up by the collar with one hand and drew in the notebook balanced on her knee with the other. From what he could tell she was working on a flower with a graphite pencil that had seen better days.
Skylar, to his relief, was smart enough to figure out that no proper conversation could be held in this space between any individuals and remained silent. She did however offer him a piece of gum, plopping one in her mouth as she twiddled with a highlighter in her other hand. He recognized the packaging from when Brown had forced him to try various kinds. He didn't remember what the flavor was but he remembered it was tolerable so he accepted the offer and put the foil in the front left pocket of his slacks for later. He gently bit into it, choosing to ignore the way his hands were shaking, and recognized the flavor-blueberry-before shoving it into his mouth. He regretted it almost immediately as he almost swallowed it out of shock
A group of kids younger than him on the bottom row of their set of bleachers had begun a pattern of stomps and claps, as if that would make the assembly suddenly start. Group by group people joined in across the gymnasium. He sucked on the gum, trying to focus on the flavor in his mouth instead of the stampede outside his ears. It was hard to block out something that was forcing his body into motion though, in fact he had always had trouble blocking out anything. Perhaps it was his training or even genetics, after all his father had shown the same trait in the time he had known him. Either way he felt like he was going to throw up, not from nausea but from overstimulation. He would never admit to it, never admit to needing comfort, but he hugged himself in that moment, tugging his uniform jacket closer.
He turned around with a sharp intake as he felt a presence sit down behind him, knees ramming into his back in the small space. It was a teacher.
Surly she would put a stop to this ruckus. Damian looked to her, waiting for her to do something. His hope was left unanswered. All the teacher did was tell him to look forward with a stern look on her face. Or at least that's what she seemed to be saying. Lip reading was still a skill he was working on and there was no way to hear her verbally over the ruckus that she was allowing to continue. Why was she allowing it to continue? Weren't teachers supposed to put a stop to distractions to learning? Or was this assembly in itself just one giant distraction? Surely if it held any true importance it would have been mentioned before today. Or was that just the way this school did things, telling people about interruptions to the schedule so late that there was no chance of escape. They were all just flies and this school was masking vinegar with a honey aroma. A guise it seemed only he could see through. It wouldn't be the first time he found vinegar while others kept smelling honey. Either that or people liked vinegar more than honey and therefore the idiom was, as Todd might say, a giant piece of shit with a blue ribbon up its ass
A body came into view through his haze of thought and practicality shoved him into Skylar’s side, knocking Justin over again as well. The teacher still did nothing as the boy pushed them all up as sardines in a tin dish. If anything the teacher seemed upset with him for not already having been up against Skylar’s side. One look over granted Damian with some unwanted eye contact and recognition of the face that held a Chesire smile. Shit. William Pembroke. Known across the whole grade and then some as someone that found joy in tormenting people, especially Damian. How he had the stealth for the teachers to not find out was truly astonishing. That or the people that were supposed to be passing their knowledge onto them should be dismissed as they had no intelligence to pass down in the first place
Amongst the chaos Damian must have swallowed the gum at some point and now his mouth was noticeably empty, clinging onto the final taste of artificial blueberry as he hastily searched for a new focus point. His hand found purchase in his arm beside Skylar, practically crushing his own Humerus, just as the stomping reached its peak. The assembly was starting
“Good morning everyone!” Damian nearly flinched into himself as Mr.Green's voice echoed robotically through the speakers across the Gymnasium. Neither this room nor Damian were built to handle noise well and it was becoming abundantly clear
“You have been called here today because the staff have noticed a problem with today's youth!”
And the youth have noticed a problem with the staff where they don't do their jobs and waste the youth's time in pointless assemblies! The youth has noticed the staff's incompetence and has used it to do as they wish at the cost of others! The youth would like to GO HOME!
“You all spend too much time on your phones and devices! Just 1 hour a day is 15 days wasted a year!”
Phones are devices you redundant fools! And you require us to use devices for over an hour in each class each week! No surprise that even if we did only use devices 1 hour a day your math still wouldn't be correct either**. You have proven that your staff are incompetent at even the smallest task and are not fit to be teaching the youth you speak of so negatively. No surprise that the staff are incompetent however when their boss spends part of his time lecturing the youth with false statistics and the rest on his own technological devices whilst claiming he doesn't do so. If he wants to complain about devices so much then he should give his own up. If he wants to complain about devices so much then Damian should be sure to toss aside his earpiece and gadgets the next time Gotham is in danger cause the man that's in charge of hundreds of people’s education has decided technology serves no benefits and there's no point in saving someone by setting a bad example and there's no point to this assembly and people are screaming and it's loud and the lights are bright and there loud and there's wind blowing against the walls and it loud and the bleachers are creaking and it's loud and Pembroke is cracking his knuckles and it's loud and and andandan-
“Hey, you ok?”
And he was gone