Birth of Robin

CHAPTER 1

Dick Grayson

...

|March 20th, 2003

|5:07 pm

If there was one thing Richard Grayson loved, it was flying. Not in planes or any sort of thing like that, no. At the young age of six, the only method of vehicular transportation little Dick was comfortable with was trains, a fact he believed was unlikely to change by his seventh birthday tomorrow. Or even his eighth next year. He had seen them before of course, planes. He could recognize them, knew what they did, and even a little of how they worked because, as the young boy proudly like to declare to his family, he was a genius. But he had never actually been in a plane. He'd been in cars a few times in the past two years, but didn't fancy them much. His aunt, however, loved to regale to the story of when he was four and been on a boat for the first and only time in his life, when the circus decided to move long term to America. She wasn't sure if Dick didn't like the waves, or the waves didn't like him. Either way the trip was unpleasant for both. At this he would always question why the waves would find it unpleasant, and she always responded that the sound of him crying scared them. It never made sense to Dick, but being a little boy, he enjoyed the tale anyways.

But that's not the point. Dick Grayson didn't like boating, he liked flying, and he could fly. He didn't need a plane, or wings, or superpowers even—although that would have been cool. All Dick needed was a trapeze, and he could soar through the air. The same could be said of any Grayson, and they all enjoyed it, but none loved it more than the youngest of their family. He could fly from the moment he learned to crawl. Walking and running, such trivial methods of movement, had come later.

After all, he was a Grayson, and Grayson's flew.

At the moment, Dick was swinging backwards around the taller of two parallel bars, which were set a little further apart than normal. On what was probably his fourth time around, Dick let his fingers slip from the bar before he reached the apex of his swing, and quickly tucked in as he flew back. He flipped twice in the air before extending his legs as he passed under the lower bar, hooking the back of his knees around it. Dick let his momentum carry him once around, then firmly tightened his hand around it so he stopped, sitting on top of the bar. The quick halt stung his hands, and he knew his mother would probably scold him, but at the moment Dick didn't much care.

Thinking of planes, and trains, and automobiles had somehow got him thinking of Romania, his home country. He had been born in the circus, travelled across Europe with it, his biological and surrogate family together. But whenever the circus went on its annual month long tour in America, Dick would go to Romania with his mother, since his parents decided he was 'too young' to follow the circus across the ocean. How thinking of vehicles and flying led him to this train of thought one can really never be sure of, but he was a child, and children never stopped thinking. Their thoughts ran together, one idea and memory jumping to the next through some obscure connection. As Dick sat on top of his perch, he followed one such connection to the aching place in his heart. While in Romania, they would always visit his mother's Romani family. Despite the fact that Mary Grayson and her son were considered Gaijin, Dick's grandmother always welcomed them with open arms. Four months before the extended move to America, she had died, and they were not allowed back in to the community. His father's only family had been his brother, so Dick and his mother had returned to the circus after that.

Still, Dick missed Romania and his grandmother, and hoped that one day he would return and could proudly tell those people that rejected him, that he had stayed away from cats. He didn't think Gunther and Gurbel, the resident tigers at the circus, counted because really they were so much bigger than normal cats. But, for the moment, he watched his family on the trapeze instead.

His mother and father were swinging from one, while his aunt and uncle were on another. Both women suddenly let go of their husbands' hands, and passed each other while doing a quadruple flip, before grabbing the opposite man's hands. They continued to flow through the act, one that he had seen many times before.

Finally, the routine ended, and the elder Graysons let themselves drop from the trapeze, falling safely into the net below, something that they only used during practice sessions.

"Mamӑ, tati, când pot să zbor cu tine?" [Mother, Father, when can I fly with you?] Dick smiled at his parents and slid down from his perch, dropping into his father's arms. He clung there for a moment before allowing himself to be lowered. Besides flying, and his family, the next thing Dick Grayson loved was physical contact.

Pats on the head, hugs, holding hands, little things like that. This was the reason why walking and running came later. If Dick wasn't swinging on some sort of acrobatic equipment, he was being held by one of his family, or even another circus member if his family was busy. It's just something he was used to, and something he would never want to be without.

"English, Richard," Mary Grayson, Dick's mother, scolded lightly.

The young boy scowled, and opened his mouth to reply, when he was interrupted.

"Yeah, Dickie, English."

Dick frowned, and turned to face his cousin.

"Johnny, don't patronize him."

"Yeah, Johnny, don't pa… pat… don't that," Dick shot back, the accent in his voice heavy. Travelling Europe, Dick had grown up around many languages. He was fluent in Spanish and French because of this, but English had never really been a necessity until two years ago. He often reverted to his first language, Romanian, in most situations. Although if he were alone with his mother he would slip into Romani, which she had secretly taught him along with some Romani traditions while growing up. Suffice to say, he always struggled with English, especially the larger and unfamiliar words.

Johnny just grinned and laughed a laugh that bordered on a cackle.

"So, Dick, what did you want to say, and in English," Mary prompted. She knew perfectly well what her son had asked, but she wanted to make sure he could properly speak the dominant American language.

"I want to zbor, with you," [fly] Dick repeated, proud that he had almost managed to say the sentence perfectly.

"Fly."

"Fly." Dick nodded, saying the word slowly as if tasting it. He decided that he liked the English translation.

"Of course you do!" A loud voice interrupted Mary's reply, and Dick beamed up at his father, John Grayson, and his Uncle Rick.

"And you'll get to. Let's see, Mary, what day is tomorrow?" John turned to his wife, a sly smile on his face. Catching on quickly, Mary put on a thoughtful expression.

"I'm not actually sure. Dick, do you know what day it is tomorrow?"

Dick's face brightened and he nodded vigorously. "My birthday!"

"Oh, so it is," John leaned forwards and ruffled Dick's hair. "I think we could stand to tell you your present early."

"I don't know, John. He doesn't really look like he wants it," Rick teased, leaning on his brother's shoulder.

"Fac, Fac!" [I do, I do] Dick squirmed in his mother's arms until she set him down, and he ran up to his father.

"Just tell him," Dick's Aunt Karla said, slapping her husband's shoulder lightly.

"Do you know where we'll be performing in eleven days?" John asked. Dick glanced around the tent, having nearly forgotten that the show in Star City was done. His eyes wandered over to his cousin, who started to mouth something.

"Gotham!" Dick shouted gleefully. It was the first place he had performed in America. Mr. Norton, the co-owner of the circus had taken him there not long after they first arrived to do what the older man had called a special performance, along with a few other of the circus' children. His memory of the ordeal was a little hazy and, although he couldn't remember the stunts he had pulled, Dick remembered that the people watching had been very impressed, especially the dark-haired girl that had spoken to him afterwards. The public performance the next week had been phenomenal, and Dick had immediately loved the crowd. His father always said to pull out all the stops for Gotham. You give it everything you have and everything you don't, because it isn't a city easily satisfied.

It was a challenge, and Dick loved a challenge.

"And what do we do in Gotham?"

"Hrăni mulțimea!" [Feed the crowd] Dick cried, cartwheeling away until Johnny grabbed his hand to stop him.

"And what better way to feed the crowd then by having the youngest acrobat able to do so debut his first live quadruple backflip?"

Dick paused, brows furrowed in confusion, as he tried to decipher the sentence. He recognized that there was a big word in there, an important one, but wasn't sure what it meant. He looked up at his family, seeing their eyes sparkle with excitement. So it was a good word, but Dick still didn't know it.

Finally Rick took pity on his confused nephew and let out a breathy chuckle. "Tu va efectua un flip înapoi cvadruplu." [You will perform a quadruple backflip]

Dick's eyes widened in understanding and he let out a joyous shout as he ran away through the tent, jumping, flipping, and cartwheeling over any part of the tent and stage that had yet to be taken down. All the while, he was gleefully shouting in Romanian about how he would finally get to participate in the grand finale of next weeks' show.

...

|March 21st

It didn't take long for Dick to decide that his seventh birthday was by far his favourite. He was allowed to ride Zitka, the circus elephant. Not that he didn't do that anyways, but this time he had done it with permission, something that was a big deal for him. He had also been allowed to put on his one man circus act for his family, both blood-related and otherwise. Having been taught by most of the performers, this act involved many talents from knife throwing, to fire eating, to acrobatics, and magic. He included a few minor acts of contortionism and would have done sword swallowing, but his mother was very adamant that he wasn't allowed to learn it. She'd probably have a panic attack if she knew he'd tried it once.

The 'show' ended with a furious round of applause from all those present, and caused a cheeky smile to crawl across the boy's lips. He noticed a group of unfamiliar teenagers watching from the back of the crowd, and they all had wide smiles on their faces as they clapped along with the others. Dick grinned at them and waved.

Out of the presents he received, his favourite had to be a hand stitched toy elephant reminiscent of Zitka. Second would be his new costume for the performance in Gotham, although Dick didn't actually know what it looked like. He had been given the box, but forbidden from opening it until the day of the show. This had caused a lot of grumbling to pour from his small lips, much to his family's amusement, but the little acrobat complied to the request with no actual form of resistance.

...

|March 27th

Once the circus had arrived and finished setting up in Gotham, the days leading up to the performance were full of practice sessions where Dick perfected his quadruple flip, and the Grayson's together revised their normal routine to accommodate for the addition of their youngest member.

At one point during their practices, Dick found that he had let go of his aunt's hands too soon and wouldn't make it to the bar swinging towards him. Overall it wouldn't have been a problem, since the net was below for instances such as this. However, the net would not be there during the performance, and if Dick fell then he wouldn't be safe. If he fell now, his parents wouldn't let him join them on the allotted day because of that risk. So it was with great relief that he found his fingers curling around the bar of the trapeze when its forward momentum seemed to increase momentarily, just enough for him to catch himself. Dick grinned, giggling loudly, his panic a moment before completely forgotten.

He caught a brief glimpse of a red-haired girl when he climbed down from one of the towers, and immediately took off after her, having recognized her from the group of teenagers on his birthday. Dick was frustrated to find that the girl had lost him, and continued to wander the circus looking for her, when he stumbled onto a conversation he was sure should not have been stumbled upon.

Dick may have been unfamiliar with the English language, but the inflection to Jack Haly's voice could be recognized universally as anger. Seeing as old Jack wasn't one to get angry easily, the young boy was drawn to the train car where the voices were coming from. It was Haly's personal car. Dick approached slowly and jumped up to catch the sill of the window. He pulled himself up to peer through the window easily, due to the strong muscles in his arms from swinging on the trapeze all his life.

Most of Dick's view was blocked by the wide back of Jack Haly, co-owner of the circus and the ringmaster during performances. Dick was just able to glimpse a glimpse a suit-clad figure around Jack's arm, but he couldn't see much. Instead, he focused on what they were saying.

"You've been to Gotham before, I'm sure you know how much of a troublesome city this can be. The unsavory characters that could find their way onto your property." The man who spoke had a light Italian accent, just barely noticeable. It was an accent born not from speaking a language that isn't your own, but the kind of accent that came about with spending time with many other people bearing a much heavier version.

"Apparently one already has," Haly retorted sharply, and Dick silently cheered. To his surprise, however, said unsavory character didn't react as someone normally would to such an insult.

"Ah, yes. I think I should apologize for that, but I thought it might be necessary to bring him along. Marco!" At the end of the shout, the train car rocked slightly, and Dick crawled around to the front so that he could see the burly man now standing in the open doorway.

"You see, Marco here is one of those unsavoury characters I mentioned, one of many that works under me. Who knows what he and my other boys might end up doing to you little circus." As the Italian man continued to speak, Dick heard a sharp crash while Marco's arm was suddenly thrust inside, no doubt destroying something.

"This can, of course, be prevented for a small fee. Not only that, but we'll make sure no one else bothers you while you're here. The deal would remain intact for any following visits to the city."

Dick prepared to do something very stupid while Haly replied.

"I'm not giving you any money. My performers can protect themselves just fine."

"And what about you?" Marco lunged bodily into the car and Dick immediately ran after him. He paused a moment in the door to see Marco yanking Haly forwards by the collar of his jacket, and the young boy didn't think twice. He jumped up and delivered a swift kick to the thug's side, as high as the young boy could reach. Being only seven years old, his kick wasn't very powerful and the man barely flinched, but it did distract him. Marco spun around and looked down at Dick, who was glaring furiously at a man in a sharp suit with greying hair.

"I protect him!" Dick stated firmly, earning a light chuckle from the greying man. Oddly enough, neither of the three grown men in the car noticed that the boy had a phone in his hand and had swiftly dialed the one phone number he knew.

"You can't really stop us, boy," the man snapped, annoyed at the small child that was interrupting his 'business meeting'.

"Police can," Dick snapped back, and he held up the phone. "I just call them."

The faint voice of a 911 operator speaking on the other end reached the ears of the thug and his both. The boss man nodded and Marco lashed out, grabbing the phone and throwing it to the floor.

"The commissioner is on duty," Marco said bluntly to his boss, glancing at the phone. The grey-haired man huffed in annoyance and stepped over the shattered phone.

"It seems our meeting's been cut short. It's a pity we couldn't do business." The man tsked in Haly's direction.

"I would never do business with you, Zucco," Haly scowled.

"No, no. Just the Court." At those words Haly stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as Zucco walked out of the car. He paused a moment beside Dick, laying a hand onto his ebony hair. "It would really be a shame if something were to happen to your performers after tonight."

With that Zucco and Marco left. Not having fully grasped the English language as of yet, Dick didn't fully understand the thinly veiled threat, but knew that it was bad. He turned to Haly.

"What's 'the Court'?" Dick asked, not having heard that word before.

Haly didn't respond directly, just said something about having to speak to Norton. Dick was about to ask him more about the exchange that just occurred when a loud voice interrupted him.

"Richard Grayson!" The little acrobat jumped in surprise and hurried towards his mother, who was looking sternly at him with her hands on her hips.

"Mama, erau oameni răi-" [Mother, there were bad men-] Dick started as he ran towards his mother, but she shushed him before she could even comprehend his words.

"We have the show tomorrow, Dick. It's time to go to bed," Mary said, reaching out to take her son's hand. Dick was about to protest, but a wide yawn cut him off and he immediately grasped his mother's hand. In one fluid motion Mary pulled her son into her arms and walked them back to their train car. As Dick felt the covers of his bed being pulled up around his shoulders, and his new Zitka stuffed animal gently slipped between his arms, he decided that telling his mother about the bad men could wait until tomorrow.

If only Dick knew how much he would come to regret that decision.

...

A/N

Story format: This story will feature numerous story arcs, all held in one location. The title of the current story arc can be found at the top of the page, and I will clearly state when one story arc has ended and the next begins so there's no confusion. Due to long time planning, there may be some story elements that appear to have been dropped, but rest assured I won't have forgotten about them, they just won't be relevant again until much later.

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice or any associated characters

'See' you next time!