(no subject)
Training with Tim. Lab work. Training with Dick. More work. Sleep until dawn. Then start over. That was Bart's life in a nutshell. Except that it was going to change because Dick had informed him he was signing up for his gymnastics class. The words were Dick's, but it was an order from Nightwing. And Jill was still worried.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away, but he couldn't do either. He just couldn't let go like that, because he was scared of what would happen. Bart had been forced to learn control, to never allow things to go out of balance, and when he wasn't happy, it came off as edginess, a tendency to speak sharply even when he didn't meant to. He simmered, he seethed, trying to let the anger he was feeling at the whole thing just slowly leak away, because making waves was a bad thing.
Sometimes, training helped. Today wasn't one of those days, and he knew he was too tense. He hadn't pulled anything, but there had been moments where it had come close. Dick might have cut training short, but he'd lost track of the time, focused too far inward, barely hearing the instructions he'd been given.
"What's the point of any of this?" he grumbled, stretching out muscles threatening to cramp instead of loosen because of his mood.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to run away, but he couldn't do either. He just couldn't let go like that, because he was scared of what would happen. Bart had been forced to learn control, to never allow things to go out of balance, and when he wasn't happy, it came off as edginess, a tendency to speak sharply even when he didn't meant to. He simmered, he seethed, trying to let the anger he was feeling at the whole thing just slowly leak away, because making waves was a bad thing.
Sometimes, training helped. Today wasn't one of those days, and he knew he was too tense. He hadn't pulled anything, but there had been moments where it had come close. Dick might have cut training short, but he'd lost track of the time, focused too far inward, barely hearing the instructions he'd been given.
"What's the point of any of this?" he grumbled, stretching out muscles threatening to cramp instead of loosen because of his mood.