AUTHOR'S NOTE. PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY.
Thank you. Now that I have your attention: This story is a continuation of my first story I've already completed, titled "A Flame in the Darkness". I strongly advise that you read that story before you read this one, or else this story will make no sense at all to you, as it has to do with an original character I've created. As her entire backstory is in the first installment of this series, I would recommend you give that a look before checking out Circus of Shadows. The link for that story is:
/s/8983308/1/A-Flame-in-the-Darkness
You will have to type this after the FANFIC NET URL.
That should take you to the story. Or, you can check out my profile and get to the story from there.
Also, two things heavily inspired me to write this story. The first of them being the amazingly talented Lindsey Stirling, who's music I was inspired by and wrote to. Secondly, is the book "The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern. If you haven't read it, PLEASE DO. It is an awesome book. It is where I got the first initial idea to create a twisted circus of sorts. Although the circus in Morgenstern's book and the Circus of Shadows will contain very strong similarities in appearance, the two are very much completely different. You will see soon.
If you've come here from the link I've placed in A Flame in the Darkness, I just want to say thanks for sticking around through this story! Feel free to favorite/follow or review so I know that you guys are enjoying it. Alright, enough of that for now. Without further adieu...
The Circus of Shadows
Chapter One: Midnight
-Fall 2017: One Year Later-
It had been a long day for Richard Grayson. A full course load at Gotham University was really beginning to take its toll on him; and it had only been two months into the fall semester. He was a bit late jumping on the college wagon, but he was finally proud to call himself a student again. GU wasn't the same as his crime-fighting life, but after four years, he'd be able to fight crime without a mask- with a degree in criminal justice. He remembered Bruce's reaction to declaring that major; "Of course."
He had also remembered Bruce's reaction to his… break. He wasn't happy about it- hell, the whole team wasn't- but they accepted the decision for the best. He had taught one last group for a few months after everything had happened last year, and then decided to take some time off and enroll in the university. He was twenty now. He'd been at this whole superhero business for twelve years; it way overdue for him to get some much needed time for himself.
Of course, that didn't keep the team from calling him back for a mission or two- which he did accept on occasion. Small missions were the easiest, and he never took on any huge cases. Anything that seemed to go deep, or cross paths with the Light, he steered clear of. Some claimed that he was still healing from the Light's incident last year- he claimed he just didn't want to get involved when he swore he was taking a break. The true answer was a little bit of both.
He thought about her from time to time, but tried his best to keep his mind off of it. Thankfully school was keeping him very busy. In the small spare time he did get, he spent time with some of the closer members of the team. Wally and Artemis were closer friends than ever. After last year, both had chosen to take a break like him, and focus on finishing a degree. They were the easiest for him to talk to, since like him, didn't want to talk much about their former superhero lives. M'gann, on the other hand, was one of the few he was still involved with that was still a full-time hero. His relationship with her was complicated, though. She still had the idea that he was heartbroken and destroyed from last year and that was the reason he was leaving his Nightwing identity. She was wrong.
M'gann was also the strongest voice concerning the possibility that she was still alive. They'd all seen the same explosion; but only he had seen the note left on his desk that morning a few months after the incident. He remembered snatching it in a frenzy and heading back to the training arena, only to see his new trainees with confused expressions as he clutched the note in his hand. He had dismissed them early that day, and returned back to his computer to think. Just as he was about to call M'gann for advice, the paper had burst into flame and was reduced to a small pile of ash. Whatever it was, the sender only wanted him to see it.
It had to have been from her. The conversation she was referring to was the last one she had- and it had been private between him and her. Unless Luthor had overheard, which he highly doubted, it could only be her. The handwriting was all too familiar.
The same process was about to happen that had happened before- long nights of pouring over computers and maps and energy signals looking for the smallest trace of her- but after a long talk with M'gann, he decided that wasn't going to happen. A break was going to happen. If she really wanted to be a part of their lives again, she would show up. The note was just a signal to him that she was alive and well. She had done what she needed and stayed out of the Light's, as well as the Justice League's eyes. The whole world thought she was dead, and that was just the alibi she needed.
But it had been a year since Richard had figured this entire thing out. The now twenty year-old man collapsed on his bed in the apartment he had had for almost a year now. It wasn't too far from Gotham University's campus- just a five minute motorcycle ride away. It was different, being on his own, but he quite enjoyed the peacefulness of it. Wally came over at least twice a week to hang out, and M'gann would visit frequently as well. Between friends and schoolwork, Richard agreed that his life was going fairly well. His grades were high, and the only stresses on his mind were midterms that were looming in the coming week.
All of that came crashing down when the letter arrived.
The sound of the mail slot opening and closing caught him off guard. It was past midnight; no way that was the daily post.
Curious, Richard stood to his feet and headed to the front door of his apartment to see what had come through. Lying on the ground in front of his door was a standard letter. It didn't have a sender address, or his address, for that matter. It was hand-delivered. He leaned down and plucked the letter from the ground before checking outside the window to see if anyone was running off. He saw no one in the shadows.
With a sigh, he headed back to his room; letter in hand, to see what all of this was about. Carefully, he ripped the letter open and took out its contents. One sheet of paper was all that was inside. It was folded crisply and neatly. Richard unfolded it and was surprised to see only a few lines of what he assumed to be female handwriting due to its neatness and curls in bold black ink.
"Do not trust the Circus of Shadows. It holds many secrets; one of them to which you hold very dear. You deserve to know the truth. Friday is the day. Meet me there, should you choose to discover the shadow among darkness."
Eyes scanned the paper over and over again. The handwriting was neat, but unrecognizable. He hadn't seen this handwriting before. As far as the Circus goes, he wasn't quite sure what to think. Wally and Artemis had talked about it a few times- apparently it was a circus that came with literally a one day notice, and stayed for a night, maybe two, before moving on to the next city. Apparently it was supposed to be a grand spectacle that had accumulated a cult following. Artemis had mentioned wanting to check the place out for entertainment, and it was supposed to be in town on Friday. He glanced at his phone. It was past midnight- now technically Friday. He sighed heavily. A decision needed to be made.
Head pounding with frustration, he quickly took a shower and changed into more comfortable clothing. Exhausted, he slipped into bed. The letter sat on his bedside table. Sleep didn't come so easily. He kept thinking about the Circus; about the letter; about her. It was the first time he had put serious thought into it in ages. What was happening here?
Hours passed without sleep. There was too much on Richard's mind for him to even attempt to sleep. For the first time in what seemed like years, he stood up and headed for his closet. A locked, armored, black chest sat in the corner. He pressed in a four digit key-code into the pin pad and watched as the chest opened to him. Inside was none other than his Nightwing suit. It was time to investigate. If this was a trap set up for him that night, he needed to be one step ahead.
After he was suited up, he set out through his window and towards the site the many posters scattered throughout the city pointed to. Thankfully, it wasn't too far away. He decided against taking his bike. Going on foot would be less obvious to whomever it was watching him. It was only a few minute run away. The feeling of his suit against his skin as he ran- it gave him chills. He missed the thrill of crime fighting; the rush of an investigation. The cool autumn air blew against him as he ran. His hot breath was barely visible against the wind as his feet hit the ground at a rate that was both quick, and silent.
Nightwing was back.
The site wasn't easy to miss. Tents had already been pitched, and the highest tent reached a good seventy or so feet. It was an incredible sight; a massive black, white, and orange striped tent that served as a central hub, and dozens of tents around it, connected to it; varying from tall to short, large to small. Among the tallest in the group was the main tent, of course, and a magnificent ferris wheel. It was like a city made of circus tents, carnival rides, and food stalls. It was disorganized and symmetrical, magnificent and haunting at the same time- Nightwing had never seen anything like it before. It fascinated him. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and every instinct inside of him was telling him to investigate. However, as he approached the site, he noticed fencing around it with a large notice:
"Pardon the mess as we set up for tonight's show; come back at dusk."
A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he read the notice. "Yeah, right," he mumbled to himself as he quickly jumped the fence.
As he explored the abandoned circus courtyard, he couldn't help but think of Haly's Circus. It was home to him for many years before his parents died. He made a profession for himself as an acrobatic performer. After the accident, Bruce had taken him in, and he hadn't seen much of the circus since then. He'd visited once or twice, but it just wasn't the same. A hand reached out to touch the fabric of the circus tents. The feeling was more than just nostalgia; it was like a hole had formed in his chest where the circus once was.
But this place. It didn't feel like Haly's Circus; it didn't have the magic feel to it. The place was more spooky than anything. The black and white color scheme with the sudden splashes of pumpkin orange in places wasn't helping either. It lacked color, and the only feeling he got from the place was…emptiness. Whether that was just because of his history with the circus, he didn't know.
He shook the deep feelings off and decided to take a quick look inside the main tent. A hand reached out and pulled back the flap, which was untethered from the inside. Inside…was nothing. It was an average circus set. Massive bleachers had been set up for guests to sit in to watch the show. There was a main ring, surrounded by three or four smaller ones, and a massive tightrope that spanned the length of the tent. Below was a safety net, as well as many props used for the various acts that would be occurring in this tent.
It was…normal. He sighed and decided to investigate another tent, but as he turned to leave, a massive shadowy figure stopped his path. Instantly, he drew his escrima sticks from his right thigh and was poised to attack within a second. The figure remained motionless. A second later, Nightwing realized his fatal mistake.
"What are you doing here?" he asked as he replaced his weapons. His mentor stood before him.
"I could ask the same of you," he said as he stepped into what little moonlight filled the circus tent.
"You know, the usual," Nightwing said casually as he took a seat on one of the bleachers. "Investigating."
"Last time I checked, your usual was staying in college, not playing hero again," Batman replied smartly. Nightwing remained silent.
"That's what I thought."
Nightwing stood up again and began pacing the tent's main circle. He had two options here: tell his mentor his real reasoning behind his sudden change of heart, or lie; which Bruce would find out eventually. He chose the former.
"I got a letter. The Circus is not to be trusted. I thought I would take a quick look around. What's the harm in that?" Nightwing defended himself. He was careful to leave out the key hint that the Circus held a secret of his. Batman looked unimpressed.
"It could have been a trap," he added.
Nightwing stopped his pacing. "I'm aware of that, and I don't have to answer to you. My investigation is my investigation. You may have been my mentor, but I'm capable of handling this one on my own." At that, he left the circus tent and headed back to his apartment with the idea of checking the place out Friday like the letter had mentioned. He'd need backup though. Just in case.
He made it back home at about five in the morning. He entered the way he exited- via his window. What he didn't notice, however, was the person already sitting inside. Quickly, Nightwing stood his ground in the dark apartment. The person stood up and flicked on the light.
It was Wally.
"Caught red-handed, Dick!" he shouted at him. The speedster used his powers to zip over to him in less time than it takes to blink an eye. "About time you brought the suit back out. It was starting to gather some major dust, y'know."
Nightwing brushed him off and proceeded to shove him out of the room so he could change. Once he was in more comfortable clothing, he confronted his best friend.
"Why are you here?" he asked as he filled up a glass of water and took a seat on the couch.
"I was heading over to see if you wanted to watch some movies with me and Artemis, but as I ran by I saw you jump out the window in full Nightwing gear. I knew something was up. Speaking of which, why were you out? You haven't touched the suit in ages, dude."
Richard looked at the floor. He knew this question was coming. Filling Bats in on the situation was one thing- Wally was a completely different story. Briefly, he touched on the situation. The letter- the circus- the possibility that it could have something to do with her. Wally shuffled his feet nervously as he listened.
"Dick…we all saw that blast a year ago," he began.
Here we go… Richard thought to himself. Wally had always been one of the skeptical ones, despite his claims of the note she had left him.
"I know, Wally. I saw it. I can't forget it. But even if it doesn't have to do with her, it's still something worth looking into, and I know you and Artemis were thinking of going tomorrow night. Whoever this person is, and if they have a connection to her or not-"
"Why won't you say it?" Wally interjected.
"Say what?"
"Hername."
Richard swallowed dryly, as if he were going to speak… but remained silent.
"That's what I thought. Dick… you don't need to linger on Samantha. She's gone; you know that. I know that. You don't need to useher as an excuse to get back into the field." Wally put a hand on Richard's shoulder. His friend had a concerned look on his face. Nightwing knew that he was wrong. He wasn't using her disappearance as an excuse, but he decided not to argue with him.
"I'll go with you tomorrow. Not to investigate, but to have some fun. It's something you need to remember to do every once in a while. I'll see you tomorrow night. Get some sleep. Don't you have class in the morning?"
Richard nodded. "Yeah; like that's going to happen."
Wally left shortly after with the promise that they'd all meet up around eight the next evening to check out the Circus of Shadows. Richard went straight to bed afterwards, with the intent of falling straight to sleep. Naturally, that didn't happen. The man tossed and turned with so many things on his mind; the Circus, Batman, her.
The explosion kept replaying itself in his mind. He kept seeing her face, haunted and scared as the flames consumed her. A sweat broke out. It was all his fault that she died. He was the one that saved her, took her in, protected, no, concealed the secrets of the League. She would be alive today if it wasn't for him.
The pressure was too much. Nightwing remembered what Wally had said to him.
"I'm sorry, Samantha."
The pressure finally lifted, and Richard Grayson fell asleep shortly after.