Holy shit, school is a nightmare. Ugh.
But it's the weekend, so I'll try to get a few more chapters out to you guys!
"In other news, police still have yet to come up with a suspect responsible for the burned records in the hospital, the Gotham school system, and various other buildings…the investigation is ongoing…so far there have been no injuries reported…"
The news on the TV kept going, unheard by Robin. He was sitting in his home, staring at the fireplace. The costume his mother had once sewed for him was being reduced to a pile of ash. It was the last thing of his old identity to go. Somehow, he didn't feel sad. At first he'd clung to it as one of the last connections to his parents. But as the years passed, he'd grown to resent it. Being an acrobat was something he had loved. It was all he'd ever wanted in the world, aside from having his parents. But the world decided he couldn't even have that much. It seemed as if it sought out happy, innocent children and decided to break them. Take away everything they love, make them lose faith in the world, and throw them in places like the Shithole. That's what really happens to good little boys and girls.
The costume had become a symbol of his past, and the happiness that dwelled within it. It was one of the pieces of him that had dropped off a long, long time before. And it was all that was left of Richard John Grayson. It was one of two things he'd brought with him from the Shithole, and he felt oddly relieved as it burned. When he'd first arrived at the Shithole, it smelled like their trailer still. It had reminded him of home. But after six years at the Shithole, it just smelled like the desperation and sadness of orphans.
"Is that everything, then?"
Robin turned to look at Saitou, who had just entered.
"You've burned everything that you are?" Saitou asked.
Robin nodded. "It's official now…all my files, and all the copies of them backed up on computers…are gone. In the eyes of the government, I don't even exist anymore." He smirked slightly. Of course, there were still the old newspaper articles. The old posters from their shows. But it was impossible to erase all of those. Only one person would be looking at them, anyway. And he wouldn't be able to glean anything about Robin from them. Only Dick Grayson.
"I still don't understand why you want to erase everything you are." Saitou sighed and shook his head.
"I didn't erase everything. Even my new name is a reminder of my past." Robin replied. He looked up at the mantle above the fireplace. One thing from his past had escaped the flames. It was the old picture of him and his parents. It had been taken on the day when the circus stopped at a lake on the way to their next show. They'd been allowed to have a few hours of fun before they had to get back on the road. In the picture, Dick was standing in between his parents in his swim trunks. Dripping wet, he held up a fish for the person taking the picture. His parents were laughing at some joke his father had told a few moments before the picture was taken…
Saitou followed his gaze to the picture. "You decided not to burn it, I see…"
"How could I?" Robin asked. "They're the reason I'm doing this. I can't forget them." He sighed a little bit. "I can forget myself, but never them."
xxxx
A picture of a boy flying through the air was on the screen of the Batcave's master computer. It was a good shot of one of the acrobats. He was in mid jump, a giant grin on his face. His red costume was made even brighter by the spotlight that was shining on to him. It was a picture of Richard John Grayson from 2005.
"There he is, Alfred." Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. "There's Robin."
"Doesn't look like the type to shove mobsters off buildings or stab a man to death." Alfred remarked. "What on Earth is he doing, exactly?"
"He and his parents were acrobats in a circus." Bruce explained. "I found an interview with his mother. She said he was born while they were out in the middle of nowhere in Colorado on March the 20th." He frowned. There had been other things to be found, too. A video taken in 2006 when the wires had inexplicably given out on Richard's parents. They'd fallen and hit the ground. Their son and the audience had looked on with horror. "His parents died in an accident. But he seemed to think it was sabotage…"
"Perhaps it was, sir." Alfred replied. "Children often see the truth that adults are blind to."
There were eerie similarities between himself and young Richard. Bruce began to realize this as he sifted through old videos and newspaper articles about the Flying Graysons. Both had lost their parents, around the same age as well. In a way, he could almost understand why Richard had done what he had. He'd deduced that Richard had probably somehow linked the mob to the deaths of his parents. There was the possibility that there was some other vendetta. Perhaps he wanted to purge Gotham of crime in general, and thought it was the best place to start. The odd thing, though, was that he couldn't find any public records of Richard John Grayson. No birth certificate to be found. There were mentions of him in the older additions Gotham High's online newspaper. But no records that he actually went there other than that.
When he emerged from the Batcave, he knew everything he could know about Robin at the time. His name, his age, and that this boy was very smart. How else could he have devised all of this? Had the boy been in public school for most of his life, he probably would have already graduated.
His mental picture of the boy was clear. Richard Grayson had been an orphan, with nothing left of his previous life. No friends his own age, most likely. He'd spent several years in a harsh environment. That orphanage had been bad enough when Bruce had been visiting. And that was when everyone was expected to be on their best behavior. What must it have been like all day, every day, for a few years? Enough to drive a kid insane. Richard must have felt trapped. Gotham could do that to its youth. Despite doing well in school, he was getting nowhere academically. No college would willingly accept Gotham High kids. There was nothing for him when he turned eighteen. That would be the day when the orphanage would kick him out. The walls were up and pressing closer. Robin must have sensed them. And, somehow, he managed to get out.
But where would Robin be now, he wondered?
Bruce knew the answer before he'd even finished asking himself the question.
xxxx
"Happy birthday, Mom." Robin knelt down in front of the grave and set the white roses in front of his parent's gravestone. The circus had paid for his parent's burials, as well as their gravestone. It was one large one, that stretched across both graves. Both of their names were at the top left and right, with the usual dates and 'loving parent and friend' message underneath. In the middle was his own name.
Richard John Grayson. March 20th 1998-
In their wills, his parents had requested that their son be buried between them when he died. He'd only known about this when they'd put the gravestone on, and someone informed him that unless he decided otherwise when he was older, he was going to be buried between his parents. Not that he had a problem with it. Often as a kid living in the Shithole, he would come to this graveyard in the middle of the night when life seemed more miserable than ever. He went there just to be closer to his parents. Sometimes he even wished for death, so that he could be with them. Those days were gone now. Sorrow had been replaced by growing frustration towards himself. Why he was frustrated, he didn't know. But it felt good to come see his parents.
"Richard."
The voice was deep, and easily recognizable. Robin didn't turn around right away. He already knew who it was. He muttered, "And Saitou says I sneak up on people too much." Robin stood and turned around to face the Batman. "Good job, Bats. You figured out my name. Not that it means much anymore."
Hearing himself being called 'Richard' was odd. He'd always been Dick, or Robin. He'd only been 'Richard' when his father or mother were mad at him.
"So. You really going to fight me here in a graveyard, on my parent's grave?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just expecting me to let you haul me off to Batgirl's daddy?"
If there was any shock as to how he knew the identity of his apprentice, Batman didn't show it. "Neither."
Now that surprised Robin. "Then why are you here at all?"
"To talk." Batman replied.
"You're kidding."
"I don't kid."
"Well, I believe that much. I think the Joker is right. You need a good laugh." Robin replied. There was a moment of silence, and he figured Batman was glaring at him from behind his mask. Or thinking. Robin found himself getting irritated. "So, what do you want to tell me? That I'm just an angry kid? Because I already know that. That what I'm doing is wrong? I know that too. That I'm a smart kid and I'm wasting my potential? Heard it already. Two wrongs don't make a right? I'm going to hell? I'm insane? I've heard all of it already. Here's the kicker: I don't care. This whole city is one giant stinking pit of shit, despite you and Batgirl and those corrupt-as-hell police. Someone has to be man enough to get things done. Get rid of the mob, you wipe out half of the crime in Gotham. Then you've only got those crazies in Arkham to deal with."
"And you think you can handle them?" Batman asked.
"They're human, too. They eat. They sleep. They shit. Just like you, just like me. And a bullet to the face will kill them just like it would kill you." Robin frowned at him, crossing his arms across his chest. "You think your rule gets anything done? Take the Joker. A real piece of work. He thinks murder and torture are funny. Every time he breaks out of Arkham he kills at least ten people. But every fucking time you catch him, he's found too insane for a trial and shipped back off to Arkham. By the way, is that place made of wet tissue paper? People break out of it every single week, it seems like."
There was more silence. Robin walked past him, off of his parent's grave. Yelling at (and possibly fighting later on) the Batman wasn't something you did with your parents six feet under your feet. "Did I cover everything you wanted to say? Or are you going to give me a half-assed apology like you did when I was a kid? Because you don't have to. You didn't kill my parents. You just weren't strong enough to get rid of the guy who did. Though I guess in your mind, it's the same thing." He sat down on a bench beside the walkway that led through the graveyard. The Bat, of course, followed him.
"You didn't cover anything I wanted to say, actually." Batman replied. He stood over him, tall and foreboding. Robin remembered being scared of him as a kid. Not so much now. He knew Batman had rules. And even if he didn't…well, Saitou knew that he wanted to be buried in between his parents. "I wanted to say you and I are a lot alike."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Ok, I'll be honest. I haven't heard that one before. You're full of surprises tonight, Batty."
"I know a lot about you. Your name, for one. Richard. You were born on the road in Colorado. Started performing when you were five. Parents died in 2006 in an accident that took place in the middle of a show-"
"It was sabotage!" Robin hissed. "Zucco came to my father and the manager and demanded money! They refused, and so he sabotaged our act!"
"I believe you." Batman replied. He'd caught Robin off guard with that comment. Apparently, it was the first time anyone had ever said that to him. The Bat continued, "After that you were sent to Gotham City Orphanage-"
"Ah, the Shithole. You know, I almost kind of miss that place…"
"…and who disappeared from it many months ago." Batman finished. "Everything else…your medical records, school records, birth certificate…all that is gone."
Robin smirked. "I'm good, aren't I?" He stood up. Batman noted that Robin couldn't seem to stay still for very long. The boy seemed like a restless person. He was used to moving around, and often. "I don't care what all you know about me, Bats. I don't care if you think we're alike, for whatever reason. All I care about is taking down all the criminals in this city, by whatever means necessary."
"You'll get to." Batman told him. "That's why I came here. I came to make you an offer."
"An offer?" Robin looked at him suspiciously. "Since when does the Batman cut deals with convicts?"
"It's more of an opportunity for you. You can leave right now, go back to being the criminal and I'll go back to being the man who is going to eventually hunt you down and help put you in jail." Batman replied. "Or you can take my offer."
Robin thought it over, then sat back down on the bench. He smirked. "I'm listening, Bats."
If I missed any typos, I'm sorry. It's been a long week!
