The smell of seawater and old wood reached the boy's nostrils the minute he jumped down from his perch on the building ledge. The sea, which churning in a blue and white foam soup, was illuminated in the darkness by a sudden fork of lightning on the right. His body seemed to bend at imposible angles as he ducked his head in for one flip...two flips...three flips. When his legs crouched to asborb the impact and his boots slapped onto the cold concerte with a wet splash, he continued running. The angular face, slightly covered with ebony hair, came into view for a breif millasecond as lightning flashed again. While the young boy's face looked young and light-hearted, he gave off a unmistakable aura of someone who had seen far too much. Another particular thing about this memorable face was that it was set in undefinable confusion. Almost like he had been spun around three times and shoved into the confusing maze he called his mind.
Thoughts racing as he ran, the boy shot a grappling gun into the air and swung through his city. Landing lightly on the rooftop, a thought stood out among the rest. 'Who was he really?' . He felt as if his whole life was a mess every since that fateful day his parents fell. But looking out at his Gotham skyline, he became to forget the stress and remember the good things. All his doubts and confusion seemed to melt away with the rain.
Sure Gotham had it bumps, all cities do, this own even more. With all its physcos and monsters that haunt your nightmares. But from the sky, its amazing. Most heroes are too scared of either the villians or Batman to enter the city. But he wasn't scared. There was no reason to be. Even if people weren't scared, they might sit down and enjoy the skyline but not him. The place he belongs is in the air. It always has been.
So he takes off running across the rooftop, his face set in determination. To anyone watching you might have thought he was suicidal. But really he anything but. And he jumps.
Time seems to slow down as he spreads his arms out like the bird he was named after but all great things must come to an end and time spead up. Then he's falling.
But as he nears the cold, mericless ground, his grappling gun shots out and the hook attaches itself to another gargoyle on another building. And he swinging, swinging like he had been his whole life. Which in this case he has been.
The wind rushes through his hair and raindrops slightly sting his cheeks. His heart is pounding with the thrill of being able to soar through the air. He barely notices the rain as he's trapped in his own world.
He's soaked throughly by the time he lands lightly another building but he doesn't care because for once he's at peace. But if there's another thing that brings him peace is bringing justice. So when he sees the Batsignal light up across the gloomy, rainy night, he's running again.
He bends this way and that as he jumps rooftop to rooftop with some tumbles and flips. An eeire cackle let loose all the joy and happiness that he felt and confusion is wiped away. He knows who he is now. Actually he always had known. So as he jumps front of the moon and his black and yellow cape flutters in the unseen wind, he watches the people down below take cover from the rain. Not because he looks down on them but because he knows he'll never be apart of them and he accepts it.
All his life he has been running it seems. From his problems, past and sometimes present. He doesn't know what the future will be like, but he knows he'll stand strong. He'll stop running and face those problems. Because that's who he is. But for now he'll continue running. Not away but towards. Towards the future and unexpected. Because the fun is life is in unexpected.
So he moves through the air and flies to his heart's desire. Beacuse he was born to be here. In the air. Sure he misses his parents but he has everything he needs. He has a father, who honestly isn't always there, but will be there when it matters, a amazing group of friends he would sacrifice anything for, and this city, where he can find peace and happiness in the dark days. And he finally knows who he is. He's Richard Grayson, ward of a billionare. He's Dick Grayson, the last of the Flying Graysons. And he's Robin, crime-fighting parnter to the Batman. Even though they're individual in many ways there's one thing they all have in common. He's an acrobat. No he's an aerialist. And this is his city. His home.
A.N. This did not turn out the way I thought it would. I started it one way and ended up another. Oh well...
One of my first deep stories so don't laugh. Oh and because I forgot the disclaimer: I don't own anything (Is it a rule to put it on the top?)
Special shout out to my awesome beter Moe, who knows the rules of grammer really well and should get and account on here. Yeah that's right, Moe if you're reading this get an account on here and write awesome stories!
Anyway...Read and review to would make me very happy. If you don't...I'll leave the threat unfinished.