The boy on top of the platform tilted his head in slight confusion. There had been a strange creaking noise in the air above him and his family. He listened closely, but it didn't sound again. He put it to his imagination.

The boy shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and turned back to where his whole family were swinging in front of him on the trapeze, performing various death-defying tricks and feats with complete ease.

The crowd roared, and "oooed" and "ahhed" in all the right places. After all, the daring trapeze family were doing it all without the safety of a net.

The boy smiled sadly as he watched his family perform. Usually, he would be out there too, but he was still deemed too young to perform the most dangerous and challenging tricks without the safety of the net.

Oh well. At least he had the best seat in the house, right? He was still happy to watch his family perform, even if he was sad about not being able to perform himself because he was too young…

Did that even make any sense? Meh, it didn't matter.

The boy tilted his head again, blinking several times. It was that noise again. That strange, foreboding creaking noise that set the boy's nerves on edge. The boy stiffened. It definitely wasn't his imagination.

What was that sound? He thought furiously. He just couldn't place it...

Snap.

The boy's eyes widened as he reached out for his parents with one hand.

"Mamă! Tată!"

Crack.

The following silence was ominous. Then, there was a scream.

Everything that happened from there was a blur. He wasn't really quite sure what happened and in what order. Everything seemed to go tunnel vision. The one thing he could remember however, was their bodies. His family's bodies. All twisted and broken.

There was blood. So much blood.

BREAKLINE

He eventually came out of his semi-conscious state when a deep baritone voice asked gently,

"Richard Grayson?"

The boy looked up from where he had collapsed onto the ground with his head bowed and his eyes closed. Confused, he blinked up at the man who had said his name, and looked around at the empty circus grounds before looking back at the man with a tear-stained face and weary eyes.

"Richard, my name is Bruce Wayne. I was watching the performance earlier."

"My name is Dick," the boy barely whispered.

The man didn't miss a beat. "Well then, it's nice to meet you, Dick."

Dick didn't reply, and instead gazed around at the empty circus grounds, the train long gone. He sniffled and hiccupped slightly.

"The circus… can't keep me… anymore," he said miserably in broken English, "they've all… gone away."

Bruce Wayne gently laid a hand on the small boy's shoulder. Dick glanced up at him in surprise.

"You can come live with me if you want."

Dick stared up at the almost-a-complete-stranger with wide, insanely bright blue eyes. The man smiled kindly down at him.

"I'd… like… that," Dick said slowly, "thank you… Mr. Wayne."

Bruce Wayne chuckled. "Just call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne was my father's name."

Dick nodded, and slowly stood up with Bruce's help. They walked over to where a car was waiting for them.

"I already had all of your belongings put together in case you accepted," Bruce said kindly as he gave Dick the bag that contained all of his worldly possessions.

Dick sniffled slightly as he took the bag from Bruce. "Thank you."

Bruce smiled. "And there is something else."

Bruce handed Dick a toy stuffed elephant. Dick's eyes widened.

"Zitka!"

Bruce smiled as the boy wrapped his thin arms around the toy elephant and hugged it tight to his chest. He looked up at Bruce with tear-filled eyes.

"Thank you… so much… Bruce."

BREAKLINE

About halfway through the car ride back to Bruce's place, Dick suddenly spoke up.

"I'm sorry."

Bruce turned to look at the small boy, who was nervously clutching Zitka the elephant to his chest.

"For what?"

Dick paused, thinking hard for a moment before answering.

"You said Mr. Wayne was your father's name. So that has to mean he's… gone."

Bruce could only stare at the small boy sitting beside him.

BREAKLINE

Dick was speechless as he stared up at the imposing mansion in front of him. It seemed surreal to the young acrobat after so much time in the circus.

"You… live here?"

Bruce nodded.

"Well, I am a multimillionaire," he said casually as he eyed the young acrobat who was still staring at the mansion with his mouth open in a small 'o'.

They entered the mansion and were greeted by the butler, who had an obvious British accent.

"Hello, Master Dick. My name is Alfred. Master Bruce told me you were coming to live with us over the phone."

Dick nodded. "It's… nice… to… meet… you," he said slowly and frowned in frustration at his bad English.

Bruce chuckled and squeezed Dick's shoulder while Alfred smiled warmly and said, "You do have nice manners, Master Dick. Do not worry, I can teach you to speak better English. Until then you can speak Romanian whenever you are not comfortable with English, as I am familiar with the language."

Dick visibly brightened. "Mulțumesc… thank you, Alfred."

BREAKLINE

Dick spent the rest of the day exploring the mansion with Bruce, showing off many acrobatic feats as he did so. One such trick was how he learned he was not allowed to swing from the chandelier.

"My parents… used to… call me… their little Robin," Dick told Bruce as he swung off the chandelier, flipping twice in the air before landing gracefully on both feet. The young acrobat moved his black bangs out of his face, bright blue eyes looking sad for a moment before perking up again when he saw the stair banister.

Dick turned towards Bruce, who shook his head no.

Dick stuck out his bottom lip, and gave the best puppy eyes he could muster.

The usually quiet and foreboding mansion was soon filled with the happy cackling-like laughter of the circus-born child.

Both Bruce and Alfred welcomed and appreciated the laughter. It would be nice to have a younger person lighten the usually dark and gloomy place up.

BREAKLINE

When Alfred showed Dick where he would be sleeping, the young acrobat was amazed at the size of his bedroom, and, most of all, his bed.

"I get… to sleep… on that?!"

Alfred chuckled as Dick went to bounce on top of the bed.

"It's huge! Wait…," Dick stopped bouncing and looked questioningly at Alfred.

"No bouncing on the bed, young Master Dick," the butler confirmed.

Dick stuck his bottom lip out and pouted, turning his best puppy eyes to Alfred, but only for second when he saw the stern look the butler was giving him.

Dick sighed. Oh well, he thought, the puppy eyes can't work on absolutely everyone.

BREAKLINE

Dinner, by the circus-born boy's standards, was extravagant. He quickly learned not to eat too much too quickly, however, as it was far too rich for him. That, and he wouldn't want to miss out on Alfred's amazing cookies.

BREAKLINE

Later that night, Dick had the first of many night terrors. He thrashed around in his sleep, and screamed for his family not to fall. He saw their broken and twisted bodies again.

There was the blood. So much blood.

"Mamă! Tată! Nu!"

It only stopped when Bruce barged into the child's room, shouted for the young acrobat to wake up as he wrapped his strong arms around the boy's tiny and lithe frame. Bruce whispered comforting Romanian words and phrases he had learnt from Alfred into the distraught child's ear as he cried, rubbing circles into his small back.

"Mamă… Tată… nuuu…"

"Shh… e ok, mica pasare."

Dick buried his head in Bruce's shoulder.

He was only nine.

He didn't speak for a long time after that.