So…there's this trip coming up on Friday. My school band is heading to Orlando, Florida to compete in the Music USA competition. So I probably won't update until Sunday (that is if I don't update tomorrow)

Hope you guys like this chapter. Big thank you to KK Copper for the idea involving Tim. Now all that's left is finding a way to bring in Damian!

Anyways…wish me luck at Music USA (we've been champions for seven years straight, this could be year 8!)

Don't forget to Review!

Picture's Up! (It's Dick and Tim later on in the story…after they learn to like each other)

DICK:

"I thought you said it was all hopeless." I mumble after Bruce pulls up in front of the large building. The sign on the tall place reads 'Drake Specialization'.

" Mr. Drake is one of the best specialists in the world Dick. We have to at least give him a chance." Bruce replies before getting out of the car.

Gotham was its usual gloomy left. Smog chokes the air out of my lungs momentarily before I grow used to it.

Bruce leads me into the building and then up to the front desk. He and the woman exchange a few words before she nods and gestures towards the elevators.

"Top Floor." She says just before Bruce walks away.

We take the elevator up to the top floor. There, we find a man sitting behind a big wooden desk. He's facing a computer and I mumbling softly as he reads to himself.

Bruce announces something and the man immediately looks up from the computer in shock.

"Mr Wayne! I wasn't expecting you to be early." He says.

Bruce answers quickly before placing a hand on my shoulder and pushing me towards one of the chairs.

I sit down and watch as they talk quickly back and forth.

Bruce shakes his head constantly before saying something loudly and then Mr. Drake holds up his hands in surrender with a nod.

"I know you think that it will be best for Richard Bruce, but trust me. As a father of a deaf child myself, I know what I'm talking about."

"There's a large difference between Timothy and Richard. Richard was not born without hearing.l He can gain it back. I'm asking that you see things form my perspective."

"I've attempted to Bruce. Really, I have. But hiding Richard is not the best thing to do."

I tune out after that because Bruce becomes angry and starts ranting on and on about how the press will abuse my disability.

I end up walking to the large window and looking out at Gotham City. The city was always full of life. Sure it wasn't always the good kind of living specimens but…at least life was there.

I turn to the door when I feel the floor shake slightly. So slightly that a normal person wouldn't even feel it.

The door bursts open and a young boy runs into the room.

He has a back pack slung over his shoulder and a wide smile on his face.

"Daddy I'm –" he stops mid stride when he realizes his father isn't alone. "Oh… I'm sorry…I didn't-"

"It's fine Tim. Come on in." Mr. Drake sighs and smiles warmly at the boy.

I notice how he makes sure to face him directly when speaking and how the boy's lips seem to slick together to make his words seem slurred.

"Richard, Come." Bruce mumbles, his hand gesturing to the seat beside him.

"Sure." I sigh and sit down.

"We will not be outing this." Bruce says strictly and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Yes. Of course." Mr Drake sighs and nods.

"Dad?" the boy- Tim- sits at the corner of his father's desk with a bright smile.

"What is it Tim?"

Tim's hands fly around his face, his sign language far too quick for me to even piece together.

"I don't think that's a good idea Tim." Mr Drake murmurs softly and ruffles his son's hair.

"But he's like me isn't he? You said it yourself; my kind need to stick together." Tim mumbles back.

"Richard…he's a special patient." Mr Drake mumbles, his hands cupping the boy's face patiently.

"What? how? He's like me. He can't hear."

"He wants to though." Bruce says. The boy turns to face me. His eyes widening in surprise.

"Why? Our world is so much better!" he says, his innocent eyes shining brightly.

" Not b eing able to hear? It's not good Tom. It's torture. You don't know what you're talking about." I say, knowing that my tone is cold and bitter.

I hadn't meant to snap at him…I just didn't like the way he responded to my wants. He didn't know what it was like to hear birds or music…or anything.

I find myself standing and walking out of the room. Bruce follows close behind after telling Mr Drake something.

I make it back to the car before Bruce finally grabs my arm and turns me so that I look at him.

"Richard, that's enough." He says sternly, his eyes hardening.

"No!" I scream back.

This was it. I'd reached my breaking point. I'd had enough of the pity, the horror, the pain. I couldn't take anymore!

"You don't know what it's like Bruce! To not hear anything! Not music, not voices, not even yourself! I've had it! I can't take it anymore!" I say before pulling away from him and shoving myself into the car.

It takes him a while, but he eventually gets into the driver's seat and starts taking us home.

When we arrive at Wayne Manor, I don't talk to Alfred. I make my way up to my room and shut myself out from everyone and everything else.

I feel the vibrations of voices from outside my door but ignore them.

I eventually fall asleep.

That night…I had the best dream I'd had in a while.

CONNER:

This morning, Clark came into the cave before dawn. He woke me, telling me that if I wanted to be able to have fun today I'd have to help out at the farm.

I followed him to Smallville without complaint. I didn't whine when he shoved a plain shirt, old jeans, and sneakers into my hands. I didn't complain when he placed a pair of glasses on my head nor did I refuse to wear the ridiculous coat he'd given me.

He claimed that this was what 'Smallville Farm Boys' wore during work. Anything that would bring me closer to him…I'd do.

When we got to the farm, Clark immediately set me to work. I bailed hay, fed the horses and cows, fixed up a fence, and helped Clark repaint the Barn.

When we were done, the sun was just barely peaking through he clouds.

"Used to do this every morning with my dad when I was your age." Clark mumbles.

We'd decided to have breakfast outside on the porch. Ma Kent – as Clark had asked me to cal her- still hadn't woken up.

We were having muffins for a meal, milk in glasses sat beside us.

"What happened to him?" I ask carefully.

"Heart attack." Clark mumbles.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." He smiles at me slightly before sighing.

"Do you do this often?" I ask and look over towards the horses that were grazing the field beside the house.

"I try to stop by at least once a month." Clark answers.

"Boys? Is that you?" We both turn to see Ma Kent standing walking down the stairs.

"Morning Mom." Clark calls and smiles widely at the woman when she walks outside.

"It's freezing out here! Come inside." She shivers and smiles down at us before shuffling back inside.

I follow Clark back inside and end up sitting down for a 'Proper breakfast'.

"So…Conner?" Ma Kent mumbles with curiosity while we eat.

"Y-yes ma'am?" I mentally slap myself for stuttering.

She smiles warmly and cups my cheek gently before chuckling.

"Care explaining this to me Clark?" she looks at her son expectantly.

"Well… Ma, you know how you've always wanted a grandkid? Well…Conner's it." Clark mumbles awkwardly.

Ma Kent stares at us for a second before her face breaks into a wide smile.

" Clark Kent! You have a son?" she screams happily.