Laughter

The first time he heard Dick laugh was before he ever knew how blue his eyes were. Or how bright his smile was.

It was a warm summer night, and yet the city still felt as cold and distant as it ever was. The air reeked and the sewers' shallow water was an acrid brown.

He was latched on a stone ridge, as still and silent as the city's somber sky.

A travelling circus had just arrived in Gotham. He'd heard many things about it. Some things were merely trivial, but others were… not so good. Word was going around that Haly, the man who ran the joint, was being threatened. And according to the rumors, Haly wasn't handling it all too well.

It was late, but the place wasn't asleep yet. A handful of circus workers hurried about to set finishing touches for the coming night's big show. The rest were gathered around a campfire in the middle of the clearing, quietly enjoying the night sharing stories.

He watched, and listened.

There was the continuous rumble of a hearty man telling a story about his youth in the East. Those sitting around him listened attentively as the fire crackled in the background. A couple of youngsters looked up at the man with big-eyed wonder and begged him to tell them more about his adventurous youth.

The flickering fire was oddly comforting. There was something to it that the city's bright, harsh lights never quite had.

If he were given the choice, he didn't really want to leave the circus' peaceful ease for the restless urban nightmare. But there really wasn't any reason to stay anymore. His place was not here, he belonged to the ever-turbulent city that was Gotham. Gotham, the city of dreams. The city of tomorrow. The city of lights.

Lies. Gotham was the city where dreams are forgotten and abandoned.

He pulled out his grappling hook and aimed it at a sturdy outcrop. Then he heard it. Bright and innocent. It warmed his heart and shattered through the night's smothering darkness.

He immediately stilled. He held his breath, listening if it would come again.

But it didn't.

He looked back at the campfire. At the man who told his great tale and all the others who listened, in awe and silence.

It must have come from one of the smaller tents. There were quite a few, scattered around the circus' main one in the middle. But only one still had its light on. The small tent glowed with a dim, orange light. And like the fire, the tent's like spoke of warmth and comfort.

He could see silhouettes moving inside, but he couldn't really make out any shapes.

He sighed and made to leave once more, when heard it again. Louder this time.

It filled the alleys' darkest corners and echoed through the heavy, suffocating air. It was as if the stars themselves had found a voice to sing their twinkling light into the night.

He stared at the tent again, hoping to see where it came from. But the silhouettes stilled and the light went off as they finally settled for the night.

He sighed, and wrenched his eyes away. It wasn't for him to find out. Besides, there were things to do in Gotham and a scammer to find.

In the wee hours of the morning, back in the safety of his own bedroom, he tried and failed to fall asleep. All he could think about was how that sound almost seemed to have been calling out to him. That sound... that laughter, beckoning him.

When he saw the headlines in the papers the following day, that laughter was the only thing on his mind.

"Alfred."

"Yes, sir."

"Could you get two tickets for Vicki and I?"

"Certainly, sir. But if I may ask, why the sudden interest in circuses?"

"Just felt for a change."

He would never tell anyone but he desperately hoped that maybe, just maybe he would hear it again.

And yes. He did.

And it was the most beautiful sound in all the world.