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Mrs Ramos joined Gotham Academy as an English teacher the year before Bruce Wayne started adopting children. So she had an idea of the type of kid that walked through the halls before his hoard started turning up. Stuck up, full of themselves and more than willing to flaunt mommy and daddy’s money and lawyers if they didn't do well enough in exams. So when Dick Grayson joined part way through her second year, he was like a breath of fresh air.
Not to say the kid was perfect, hell no. He was angry at the world for a very long time, which Mrs Ramos thought was justifiable considering the kid had watched his parents die in front of him before he even hit double digits. He was a difficult kid to begin with, but he mellowed out over the course of the year, becoming less likely to but heads with the other kids. The one time Mrs Ramos caught him having a civil conversation with Kristy over their English work, she almost dropped her pencil with shock.
What she noticed very quickly about Dick was that he was always moving. His background as a circus performer was public knowledge, but it didn't mean that Mrs Ramos wasn't terrified when she saw the boy do a double somersault off of the desk once after school. She then asked him to not do it again, for her own health if not his safety.
He was the coolest kid for the next two weeks though, so she guessed he thought it was worth it.
In the staff room they traded stories of random places they found Dick, his math teacher detailed a story about how he found the kid on the roof, and when caught, launched himself off and landed safely. Mrs Ramon considered herself lucky every day after that.
In class he was disinterested, like something was always on his mind. He would stare out the window for long periods of time, Mrs Ramon likened him to a bird stuck in a birdcage. Dick Grayson was not made for classrooms, sitting still and quiet, he was obviously made for performing, moving, flying. He was always tapping a pen on the desk or rocking in his chair, whatever movement he could get away with, he did. It made him unpopular with some, as they thought him a distraction, irritating, but as long as the kid wasn’t cartwheeling around the tables, she’d call it a win.
He wasn’t the smartest kid she’d ever taught, but he wasn’t stupid either. He knew his stuff, but when it came to exams and pop quizzes, it didn’t reflect. She could see him slowly get crushed every time he was disappointed with a grade, everytime the C stared at him from a page.
He cornered her once, one day after class, most other kids had packed up and gone back to whatever limousine they’d arrived in, but he remained behind.
“What do you need Dick?” She asked, putting her folders back in her bag. She had to play a small game of tetris to get everything to fit, but the bag was too stylish to give up and sometimes fashion was pain.
“What am I supposed to do to get my grades up?” He asked, rocking on his feet slightly as he gazed into the middle distance off to her left and out the window. “I try but it doesn’t really…”
“Carry over?” Mrs Ramos finished gently. He nodded. “How are you revising Dick?” She asked. He seemed slightly taken aback by her question, although she wasn’t sure why as it was a pretty standard one.
“The normal way?” He responded, no less a question than her own. He wrung his hands nervously. She’d never seen the kid so nervous, while he was often quiet, he was always assured in himself.
Mrs Ramos took a second to order her thoughts, “What is the normal way?”
“Flashcards, self quizzes, sometimes I get Alfred to quiz me-”
“Are you sitting at a desk?” She didn’t mean to cut him off, but he was starting to ramble, getting off track.
“Uh, yeah.” He responded, looking confused, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“There is no ‘correct’ way to learn Dick. We all learn slightly differently, While learning styles in the sense of visual, practical etcetera have been disproved, we all have preferences. I like to drill flashcards until they are seared into my retina, while Dr Samuels likes to run practice questions. I can tell you don’t like the classroom.” When he opened his mouth to object, looking a bit sheepish she held up her hand. “I’m not offended, don’t worry. You don’t like sitting still for a long time. No need to be ashamed.” He looked anywhere but her, but she knew he was still listening, or hoped really.
“If you like flashcards,” he nodded, “then walk around while doing them, if that keeps you focused. Some like to associate some flashcards with motions. ‘Put your shields before your hearts, and fight with hearts more proof than shields’ is putting your right hand over your chest, lets say.”
She gave a few more tips, and different methods for him to try, and he walked out with a small smile and a promise to try. Mrs Ramos shuffled out the class with her leather satchel all tetrised closed, and didn’t dwell on the conversation until the next essay she set her class to write.
They were part way through writing the timed assessment, nearing the midway through when her eyes slid over to Dick. He was mostly still, but he was obviously moving. It took a minute to figure out what she was seeing, but it seemed to be like he was going through some kind of dance or routine mentally with the most amount of movement being stationary could allow. It was a lot of moving fingers in circular motions, while leaning forward then back. He’d then pick up his pencil and write whatever he was trying to recall.
She gave that paper a solid B.
From then on his grades did climb, and when he left her class she was sad to see him go. He was one of the nicer students she’d had in a while (he didn’t threaten to sue when she gave a low score) after he got a handle on his grief. But she didn’t expect more Waynes to come through her doors, Wayne adopting Dick was out of the ordinary, unheard of, it made the headlines multiple times.
She didn’t foresee the stampede of kids that were at least affiliated with the billionaire that was to come. That’s for sure
It was a few years later when Brucie Wayne took in another stray. Jason Todd. and he was similar to Dick in many ways, but fundamentally different.
They were both outsiders, Dick with his Romani heritage and circus upbringing was novel to the high society of Gotham. Jason however was local, Crime Alley if the papers were to be believed. And it showed in a lot of what he did, in his accent, in his movements, they were different from the ones of the other kids that couldn’t even see the poverty line from where they sat.
Where Dick was quiet Jason was abrasive. He was ready and willing to throw hands with someone if he felt threatened, or if they took what he owned. Where Dick seemed uninterested in academia, Jason drank it all in. When he first arrived he took in Mrs Ramos’ words like he would be kicked out of her classroom on the drop of a dime. Jason excelled at English, appreciating Shakespeare more than probably the rest of his year.
He often had some bruises on him somewhere, Mrs Ramos didn’t want to stereotype, but she did assume from whatever brawl he’d had on the playground.
Jason was attentive in class and had a passion for literature that rivaled Mrs Ramos’ own. He was willing to remain after class for a few minutes to discuss something in what they read every now and again. He was excited by a lot, willing to engage with anyone, and if it weren't for the nature of his upbringing he would surely be well liked. But as it was, the majority of kids would turn up their noses at him.
He was amazing to watch when given a role to read, he was a theatre kid through and through. Once she put him with one of the leads for the school play to do the scene where Coriolanus and Aufidius become allies and it was glorious. The pure emotion the two put into it was amazing. She couldn’t tell who was giving the better performance.
She recommended him to the theatre teacher, she told him to try out for auditions yet he never took it up. The theatre teacher, Mr Samuels, doubted her recommendation. Looking down on him for his Crime Alley upbringing, not believing he could act. He was stuck up in that way. One of the alumni that had their names and photos still on the hallway walls. It pained her that Jason would never have had his photo on the wall, he wouldn’t have if not for the way he died. The fake sympathy and grieving for the boy the school performed made her want to yell at some of the teachers sometimes. They never liked him. Too rough edged and common for them to waste any of their time on. His adoption into the richest family in Gotham meant nothing to their classism. Can take the kid out the streets but can’t take the streets off the kid and all that jazz.
Mrs Ramos was in her kitchen when she heard the news. Heating up leftover soup from the night before for dinner. She was not really listening to the evening news on the radio, even though it was on. Although the headline got her attention easily. The announcer, in a female voice barely sombre enough for the occasion, gave the news.
‘The local billionaire Bruce Wayne’s youngest child, Jason Todd-Wayne was confirmed to be dead earlier this morning’
The spoon clattered to the floor, and she stared at the radio blankly. The poor kid. She knew he’d been on a few unexplained absences. But she never thought… never thought it would be… that…
‘Hey Miss, got any book recommendations?” He asked offhandedly as he packed away. “I’m going to the library tomorrow and I need some good reads.”
“Well I really like Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen”
“If he shall be Mr Hyde, I shall be Mr Seek.” Jason read in such a dramatic and edgy voice that half the class had to stifle back laughs, Mrs Ramos included.
The soup hissed and bubbled dangerously, gaining her attention back from her sorrow. She hissed out a curse and poured it out into her bowl. One with a cat on it that seemed way too happy now. The radio continued rattling on.
“The details have not been released on how the boy passed, but Mr Wayne has asked for privacy in this upsetting time.”
“I read that book you recommended. ‘Age of Innocence’ It was really good. Completely agree with its criticism of the ‘elite’. Them lot are insane. Ever been to a gala Miss?”
She had not, she said as much.
“Keep it that way. If they didn’t have good food I’d burn down the venue. Not that you heard it from me.” He left the classroom as quick as could considering he was on crutches. Got in a fight apparently.
She turned off the radio. Not wanting to hear the backhanded compliments they would give to Jason. He was such a sweet boy, he didn’t deserve the empty niceties they would spew to make them seem sympathetic to the kid they had attacked since he appeared next to Bruce Wayne
“Do you believe that Muppets Christmas Carol is the best adaptation of A Christmas Carol?”
“I haven’t watched that one yet. Is it good?”
“Miss! It’s the best! Watch it over the break, I tell you, you won’t regret it.”
She laughed. “Sure thing Jason. Have a nice Christmas.”
“You too Miss, don’t forget to watch it!”
There are some events where you will always remember where you were when you heard the news. Mrs Ramos was in her office when the second plane hit, she was in Walmart when The Joker broke out of Arkham for the first time, she was in her front room when her brother told her that her mom had cancer.
“See you later, Miss.”
And she was in her kitchen making soup when she heard Jason passed.
Mrs Ramos would like to say that she was surprised when the headlines screamed Brucie Wayne had taken in another one, but she wasn’t. She just let out a quiet sigh and carried on with her lesson plan.
She already knew Tim when he was adopted. He ghosted through his lessons, eyes perpetually out the window or working on another class's homework. He drank coffee like it was his lifeblood, and it probably was; his eye bags were so big they could probably be checked in at the airport. He was the odd kid that the other kids bullied, the weird nerd that skipped a couple grades that was short for his age anyway, but surrounded by peers two years older he was dwarfed.
Being concerned with Tim’s homelife was not new to her, so she was glad he was out of the home he was in. Everyone had watched him skate to school more than once, even though she knew his parents had more than enough money to hire a chaperone even if they couldn’t be bothered to be in the same country as their son. A couple remarks he gave to those around him didn’t paint a picture full of the love of his parents. But not enough to file for CPS. Not that it would do anything anyway. Rich parents would pay their way out of any trouble.
Tim’s behavior didn’t change with his new adoption, he carried on as he was. Disinterested, quiet yet polite. Would know the answer if spoken to but wouldn’t contribute otherwise. How he managed to listen in while looking dead on his feet was impressive, she’ll give him that, and it was for that reason alone he didn’t constantly get a reading part.
Then he took a good few weeks off, and came back looking like an Egyptian mummy. Really bad skateboarding accident, apparently. Almost died, he told another classmate. Came off the ramp at an odd angle and smashed his head on the concrete. “Wear a helmet.” He said. “It saved me.”
He looked in pain, constantly close to tears that scared Mrs Ramos, especially since everyone had seen the kid faceplant the ground off of his skateboard only to immediately walk it off, for him to be in so much pain, he must be in agony. A couple times she quietly asked him if he needed to take some more time off, but he gave her a look, like he knew what she was doing.
“Don’t worry Mrs Ramos. I’m fine. The family doctor had cleared me to go back to school.”
That was high;y doubtful. But what could she do other than give the class less homework so Tim would have more time to relax. Not call him out when his head tilted forward in lessons as he finally got some of the sleep he desperately needed. It felt inadequate, but what else could she do?
Mrs Ramos also noticed the shift in Bruce Wayne’s behaviour as the years went on.
The Bruce Wayne she first met was a young parent, who didn’t really have any idea how to deal with a child, certainly not one with as complex emotional needs as a newly orphaned almost teenager. But he tried his best. Dick wasn’t one to do many extracurriculars, but on the odd time that something happened, Bruce would be there, made sure that he was. The news headlines that the Waynes caused by simply insisting made sure everyone knew Bruce Wayne had skipped an important meeting with ‘investors’, although no one knew who they were, to watch Dick get some prize. With Jason he was the same, driving him to and from the library, if the odd tidbit the boy gave him throughout his life was any indication, and he was always present when someone, usually the principal, had something to say about Jason.
But with Tim he was different. Distant, even.
Tim signed himself up for a photography competition, one he got first place in, but Bruce Wayne didn’t make an appearance anywhere. Mrs Ramos asked the kid if he would see the photos when congratulating him, but Tim gave her a sad look. “Why would he come and see them?” But despite his wording, it was not a question.
Dick came to parent-teacher conferences instead of Tim’s supposed adopted father. Arriving a few minutes late because ‘the traffic up from Blüdhaven was a nightmare’. And while it was nice to briefly catch up with her former student, she couldn't help but wonder where Bruce Wayne was in all this. It hurt her to even think it, but Mrs Ramos feared Tim had traded one apathetic household for another.
Mrs Ramos knew grief affected all people differently, and the man was definitely still grieving his son, but why would he take in another kid, another newly orphaned teenaged kid when he wasn’t in the position to be a proper parent?
So she was glad when Bruce Wayne took a more active role in his newest son’s life. Letting out a sigh of relief as Bruce Wayne turned up to the meeting between her, Tim, and the principal for Tim’s extended unexplained absences. Why she was there though, no one really knew.
There wasn't much for Mrs Ramos to connect to Tim with, not like Jason. But that was fine, she didn’t need a relationship like that with every student, that would be weird. But she tried to help in the small ways a highschool English teacher could.
At least until he dropped out. Leaving so suddenly she still had his last unmarked essay and his half annotated copy of A Streetcar Named Desire that he left behind the lesson before.
She still kept up with her former student though, checking the news every so often just to check the kid was still alive. She turned away for five seconds and Jason had…
He seemed fine, though through the TV screen or behind the newspapers there was only so much she could tell. He would always remain that out of the one’s she taught, he was the Wayne that she knew the least about. And somehow, Mrs Ramos thought he designed it that way.
Damian Wayne was a surprise to everyone. Don’t get Mrs Ramos wrong, Bruce Wayne bringing another kid into the picture was no shock, Gotham had gone through this song and dance before. Mrs Ramos’ brother even won three hundred dollars on a bet on how long it would take Bruce Wayne to pick up another child. But no, the shock wasn’t him coming into the picture, it was the fact he was biologically Bruce’s.
When he first entered Mrs Ramos’ class, he was easily the least favourite Wayne she had taught. He was snappy and snobbish and angry and entitled, but as he got through the year, he slowly but surely mellowed out considerably.
The first time she saw an emotion other than contempt or boredom or anger from the boy was when they were reading The Merchant of Venice, as Coriolanus had been taken off the curriculum that year. They had gotten to the scene with the Moroccan Prince, and a few of the boys were making some (meaning a lot of) snide comments about Damian and his heritage. It was remarkable that he didn’t lunge across the table to get at them, Mrs Ramos surely would have if she was in that situation herself. Instead she read them all the riot act, and gave them all detentions on the spot. Two hours afterschool, no excuses. If another incident happened like this it would be a suspension. Citing the schools barely used anti-bullying policy.
At the end of the lesson, Damian came up to her very briefly, muttered a quick ‘Thank you’, and mumbled he’d give back to her shortly. Mrs Ramos had no idea what he meant, but he gave her a small uncertain smile and walked out the classroom as if nothing had happened.
Mrs Ramos received a small, but noticeable paycheck increase soon after. She thought it was because the kid wouldn’t want to be indebted to her for being a decent human being, and being a rich kid whose father was Buce Fucking Wayne, giving him a skewed perception of money’s value, but money was money and she wasn’t going to complain.
The incident that changed Damian the most in her class however, was during their reading of Of Mice and Men. It was a small part of their syllabus, serving purely as a comparison to another text they do in more detail in a later year. It was the final lesson on a Thursday and Mrs Ramos was ready to leave about three classes ago. They were reading about Curley’s dog, specifically in the part where Carlson shot it.
There is very little that surprised Mrs Ramos after over a decade of teaching, especially after teaching The Wayne Kids™, but seeing tears in the little boy's eyes was jarring to say the least. Not that she thought Damian was a monster, far from it, she just didn't expect him to have such a strong emotional reaction to the death of the fictional dog.
Her next surprise was seeing Damian pack up deliberately slowly, he never usually rushed, never moved slowly, Damian Wayne moved at the exact pace that was natural for him, no more no less. He never did things without reason, and the reason, (as far as she could tell) was always thought through. So seeing this uncharacteristic action gave Mrs Ramos pause, so she too, packed up slowly, watching as the other students hurriedly filed out of the class, rushing to go find their chauffeurs or butlers to take them home.
Once they were alone she spoke up, “Is everything alright, Damian?”
He’d finish putting everything in his bag, one that wouldn’t be surprising if it costs half her monthly salary. He looked at her with the intense gaze that he always had, she had heard that many of the other teachers were intimidated by him because of it, but he was a kid, one that didn’t come up to her shoulders, what could he do?
“I was wondering…” He trailed off slightly, his hand came down to fidget with the edge of his blazer, folding it between his fingers before unfolding it. Folding and unfolding, folding and unfolding.
“I heard that you are good to go to for book recommendations.” He began simply. “Do you have any books with animals that live?”
She smiled at him and walked over to her desk, pulling out a spare piece of paper from one of her draws and a pencil from the cup on top. “What do you like to read?” She asked back. He scowled ever so slightly.
“I don’t really. Everyone associates reading with T-Jason, especially father. The library is basically off limits.”
Well that sounded like a healthy and well adjusted household he lived in. But it was above her paygrade to concern herself with, until it showed to be directly harming Damian, she would keep her head down about the slightly more troubling things that plagued the world’s richest family. She liked her job, thank you.
If she gave Damian a list of solely children's books, she felt like he may take it as an insult to his intelligence, so instead Mrs Ramos slowed down and thought for a minute about potential titles to give to him before writing down a list of about five.
“The first one I thought of was a series I adored when I was small, I will be honest and say they are probably aimed at kids slightly younger than you are now, but that doesn’t make them any less fun. It’s a series called The Famous Five, by Enid Blyton. One of the main ‘five’ is a dog named Timmy.”
As expected he didn’t look too enamoured. So she decides to follow it up, with something he might enjoy the thought of more.
“Next is a classic, Animal Farm by George Orwell. All the characters are farm animals. But some don’t survive.” She did hesitate recommending him this one, as she had traumatised more than one class with Boxer’s death in the past. But many animals in fiction don’t survive so she needs to take what she can get.
“I’ve heard of that one.” Damian spoke up. Dr-Tim didn’t enjoy it.”
In the end the list gave him quite a few recommendations, including His Dark Materials, The Adventures of Tintin, Moby Dick, Warrior Cats, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats (even if it was poetry and slightly odd, she thought it would be funny), Charlotte’s Web and The Call of the Wild. (Again, maybe shouldn’t have recommended those ones either).
She handed over the sheet of paper with the titles written down on it, he took the paper and looked at it thoughtfully. “Thank you,” He said with a small nod, and walked off.
Three weeks later he arrived slightly early to the lesson with a copy of Call of the Wild in his hand. “Is all fiction allergic to happiness?” He asked, his usual even tone replaced with something more desperate. “I have read this and Animal Farm, and neither were happy!”
Is it bad she would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall to witness him reading the end of Call of the Wild?
“Famous Five is happy?” She gave with nothing much more to say, the statement coming out more like a question than was ideal. “If everything was all happy there would be no conflict for the plot.”
He deflated a little before looking at the book in his hand again. “That’s what T-Tim told me.” As people started to trickle into her lesson he walked back over to his desk, putting the book in the front compartment with more care than expected from someone who didn’t seem to be too invested in reading. It reminded her of Jason in a way.
When she next saw him with a copy of Five Go Caravaning, she mouthed ‘better?’ at him from across the classroom. He sighed and nodded at her slowly, before turning to the girl who sat at the desk next to him and made polite conversation as he took his seat.
Mra Ramos never taught another Wayne Kid, as the media dubbed them. But it didn’t mean that Bruce didn’t pick up more strays, just that Cassandra remained homeschooled and Duke ended up in another English class that wasn’t taught by her, but that was fine by Mrs Ramos. They all ended up as handfuls in some way or another so without them her life was slightly more stress free. No one in Gotham was entirely free of stress, not with the chance of their home burning down or getting blown up or frozen over got exponentially higher every time someone else broke out of Arkham, but it was nice to not have the extra baggage.
As the years went on and Damian became a senior who was no longer in her class, she still kept up with the news to check up on her former students. Tim’s eyebags only grew and Dick managed to stretch himself across two cities with Damian seeming to latch more on to him than his own father. She wondered if Bruce Wayne ever did manage to get over Jason’s death.
Soon though Damian left highschool to go to college for medicine, the best money could buy. So it surprised her that the next time she saw any of them was, funnily enough, in the supermarket close to her house.
It was a weekend, and Mrs Ramos wasn’t looking her best. She was in her pajamas and her hair was still wet from her shower, and was only at the shop because her nephew was coming down tomorrow morning and her house was empty from any food for him that wasn’t instant noodles or a salad. There were no rogues out of Arkham for what felt like years so her sister, who lived in Metropolis, finally felt like it was safe enough to send her precious baby boy down for the weekend.
She had spent an almost concerning amount of time at the bread aisle, trying to remember if he liked seeded bread or not when there came a familiar voice in a hushed whisper, “Hey is that-” before being cut off by a hissed “shut up” by someone else. Sighing, she turned around to see six people all huddled around a singular trolley that was filled with nothing but sweets, chocolate, the expensive coffee that any sane person balks at the price at, and two boxes of Lucky Charms.
Tim, Damian, Dick, Duke, a young blonde girl in a fluffy coat, and another young adult with a patch of white at the front of his hair, one that if she squinted, could look like Jason, only if he grew another foot and doubled in width in a few years stared back like deers in headlights. Dick was the first to recover, and waved with a blinding smile, still looking perfectly photogenic, Mrs Ramos thought bitterly, Tim looked the most scared from behind the trolley’s handles, she had seen the final few seconds of him screeching to a from when he came bolting round the corner. Damian looked as unflappable as always, a ‘what can you do’ expression on his face, but he was still visibly startled. Duke’s eyes darted between the others, visibly trying to work out who she was from the others' expressions.
Unsurprisingly, Mrs Ramos couldn’t read the last guy's face. Although she guessed that was to be expected as she didn’t know him, but if she had to guess, maybe sad? The blonde girl had the most shit eating grin on her face and turned to whisper something in Duke’s ear, obviously not quiet enough as the tall guy heard, and gave her a light swat on the side of her head, whispering ‘Oi’ at her.
Mrs Ramos only sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just don’t kill yourselves.” Was all she said, turning to focus back on the bread. But not quick enough to not see Tim give her a salute and laugh “Yes ma’am” at her, at the same time Damian scoffed “As if I would let them.”
She watched them through the corner of her eye walk down the aisle and sprint towards the checkout. When they obviously paid for their diabetic nightmare, she only heard a playful ‘Oh, so that's the one that Jason-’ from Duke before the doors shut behind them.
It was strange, they were all strange. Billionaires were strange and they were no exception. Mrs Ramos ignored it all like any good Gothamite would.