Heritage

By

Angelina

Robin adjusted the sunglasses on his face and took a steadying breath, it was now or never. An envelope was clutched in his slightly shaking hand. The team was off in their own corners of Mount Justice or back home in their beds at this early hour. Robin had planned this carefully, he didn't want an audience.

Striding into the Mount Justice common room with purpose, he only flinched slightly at the unexpected view of Connor sleeping on the couch. Robin hadn't anticipated the clone being here, but he wasn't going to let his teammate's presence dissuade him from his mission. A few more resolute strides carried him past Connor and to the kitchen counter. His calculations had told him that this was the optimal place to leave his package to ensure that it both got noticed and was protected from damage. He carefully arranged the ivory envelope between the colorful place settings M'gann was fond of and a bowl of fruit.

Robin sighed with relief as soon as the envelope left his hand. After nearly two years of begging, Batman had relented and allowed Robin to disclose his identity to the team. The boy had been beyond excited and the team eagerly accepted Dick Grayson into their hearts. Soon though, questions arose about his past. Google searches were done, news articles dredged up, and Robin was overwhelmed with the different perspectives his friends were finding on him. After a late night conversation, Robin had finally decided to give them the whole story from his point of view. The letter on the counter was everything he thought the team, his friends, needed to know about who he was as a person.

Robin never thought he would be nervous to tell them of his past. He often had trouble taking off his sunglasses after years of conditioned secrecy and the prospect of being so open and vulnerable around those he respected daunted him. He decided a letter would be the easiest way for him to get out everything he wanted to say. Alfred had even helped him compose it.

Now that the letter was out of his hands, his frazzled nerves were placated. He turned on his heel and left the common room with only one furtive glance back at the still sleeping Superboy. The zeta-tubes announced his departure.

As soon as the echoes of the automated voice died down Connor's eyes snapped open and he sat up. Curiosity was strong in the young hero. One of his dear friends had left something obviously important. He had heard Robin's – Dick's – heartbeat increase slightly when placing something on the counter. Whatever unsettled the nerves of a Bat had to be big.

The kitchen counter looked undisturbed, save for an ivory envelope sitting between Megan's cheerfully coloured place settings and the bowl of fruit he was planning on having for breakfast. The envelope was crisp in his large hands, the paper a heavier cotton rag used for calligraphy or fine penmanship. There was an embossed seal on the back that showed it to be from the household of Wayne. Connor recognized the surname as Batman's civilian identity.

"What do you have there, my friend?" Aqualad's smooth voice drifted into the room. The clone turned to see the Atlantian walking over to him. He was still dressed in his nightclothes and rubbing the last remnants sleep out of his eyes. Connor had forgotten that Kaldur was staying at the mountain for the week.

"I don't know," replied Connor. He turned the envelope over in his hand for a minute before he recognized Robin's handwriting. "Looks like it's from Robin."

"What's from Robin?" Both Kaldur and Connor turned as M'gann floated into the room followed by Artemis. The girl's had been having a sleepover from the looks of their matching makeup and nail polish.

"I think it's a letter," answered Connor. "What are you guys doing up?"

"We heard Robin's zeta and thought there was a mission," Artemis shrugged. "Guess he was leaving."

"Recognized Kid Flash B-03" Mount Justice's automated security system announced the arrival of Wally.

The speedster walked out casually, dressed in civvies and looking wide awake for the alarmingly early hour. He waved to the group of teenage heroes congregated near the kitchen before dashing over to join them. "Whatcha guys up to?"

"Wally! What are you doing here?" asked M'gann as the Martian floated over to give him a hug.

"Isn't it a little early for you, Baywatch?" Artemis arched an eyebrow as he hand found a familiar grip on her hip.

Wally shrugged, "Dick asked if I could come over to the mountain today. I couldn't sleep and had nothing better to do, so here I am." He spread his arms wide as if waiting for applause.

Kaldur broke the silence after a minute. "Have you seen our teammate today?"

Wally shoved his hands into a pocket. "Nah, figured I'd meet up with him later today. He's probably out with Batman right now. You know, doing the Gotham thing."

"He left us something," Connor held out the envelope.

Wally snatched it from him and looked it over quickly, eyes widening at the familiar seal. Before anyone could stop him, he tore open the envelope. The letter inside was scanned quickly before a look caught between happiness, amusement, and astonishment crossed his face. "Guys, you need to read this!"

Kaldur took the note from Wally before the speedster had a chance to crush the paper in his excitement. After scanning the first few lines, a small smile stretched over the Atlantian's face and he cleared his throat. His deep baritone voice rang out through the space as he read the letter aloud.

Artemis, Connor, Kaldur, M'gann, and Wally,

You all know me, or at least I hope you do. The world never seems to get tired of following my life as Robin the Boy Wonder or Richard Grayson-Wayne, heir to billions. But few get to know the real me. And the few who do rarely get to delve deeper into where I have come from and what has shaped me as a person. So I've taken my story into my own hands to give to you. Wally, you've already heard some of this, but I want to share the rest with you and the team.

My family has been Romani, also known as gypsies in the more vulgar form, for as long as we've been able to trace our roots. My grandparents were German gypsies who escaped shortly after World War II to Romania. There my parents were raised in a troupe. For years they managed to survive as traveling performers in country locked behind the iron curtain of communism. When the Berlin Wall finally came down they joined a traveling circus and a few years later I came along. Fifteen years ago I was born on the road, a circus brat from birth. After all, the best acrobats start as babies.

My citizenship and allegiance belonged to Romania, the country my parents still called home. I spoke both Romanian and Romani as my mother tongue. I couldn't have been prouder of who I was and where my family came from.

We traveled all over the world with the circus. I grew up seeing places most people only read about. Pop Haly, the leader and manager of our international circus, tried to make sure to let us have a day to sight see. I will never forget seeing the Kremlin in Moscow, or the domes of St. Petersburg. Together my parents and I climbed the Eiffel tower in Paris. In Berlin my mother showed me the Brandenburg Gate and told me stories of a time I couldn't understand. My father took pictures of my mother and me standing in front of Big Ben. Once we even sailed the Atlantic and past the Statue of Liberty on Ellis Island. But of all the places in the world we traveled, I rarely ever got to see Romania, the place my parents called home. Every night they would tell me stories of our home country, of all its beauty, its glory.

Shortly after my sixth birthday my uncle, aunt, and cousin joined us at the circus, giving up life in Romania for life on the road. I never understood why they would give up such a wonderful life at home to join us, but I was too young to know of politics and war.

In fact, my parents never did explain to me the situation in Romania. That they left because of the persecution a lot of gypsies faced: the poor living conditions, the starving families, and the strict government.

I never got to discover a lot about my homeland before my family fell to their deaths, leaving me alone. A gypsy in America, a land my parents often spoke ill of.

The headlines were everywhere, but the truth would be a while in coming to light. A mob boss, Tony Zucco, had sabotaged our set and murdered my family during our trapeze routine. I watched my family die in front of me.

With no one left to care for me, I went into the foster care system and quickly found out why my parents didn't like this country. America didn't want me here. They tried to send me back to Romania, to live in an orphanage there as it was my rightful homeland. But there was this one social worker, an old eastern European woman, who fought tooth and nail to let me stay. A lot of good that did me at the time. No one wanted a circus brat; no one had room for me. The system was all but overflowing and I was discarded to the only place they had room, a juvenile detention center. I was stuck in a country I didn't know, where they spoke a language I didn't understand.

Still, I knew enough English to know that the guards and other kids mocked me. All I wanted was to go back to the place my parents talked of with fondness, to enjoy the celebrations with my own people. To be free again.

And then the incredible happened, billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne adopted me, and I became an American citizen. I had to learn fluent English. I had to learn to act like a normal kid, especially after I became Robin.

I was never encouraged to speak Romanian or Romani out of the manor, but Bruce made sure to learn the language, just so he could talk to me. The conversations we had in my native tongue are among the most treasured. It was in Romani that he explained to me about his own past and why he took me in. He had seen a bit of himself in the lost orphan I had suddenly found myself as. He wanted nothing more than to give me a good life.

In school I was required to learn the history of a country I had no interest in. But as I slowly came to know more about America, I slowly started to fall in love with it. The lofty ideals, the government, the unique struggles it had gone through, even the horrible persecutions it had committed were interesting to me. It was a country with many flaws, many stories of bravery, and many stories of tragedy. It was a story that was unique and fascinating; it was a story not yet complete. I wanted to know more.

The more I learned, the more I came to appreciate and respect the country to which I now owed my allegiance. I was happy to be American; I could take pride in it.

This newfound identity, homeland, and family helped to carry me through hardship. I became Robin, sentinel of Gotham. I became privy to humanity. I saw its darkness and existed in its odour. On the streets of Gotham I grew up fast, but I also grew up under the wing of Batman (wordplay in a serious letter, I know. But come on, it's me!). Eventually, I found you guys and the rest I guess you already know.

Over the course of my life I have learned many things and taken on many identities. This is why I wanted you guys to know about my heritage. I will never fully leave behind the Romani circus boy I started out as, but now I am something much more. I am Robin, Dick Grayson, and Richard Grayson-Wayne. I am a boy with many identities and many secrets. Above all, I am your friend.

Dick Grayson

Kaldur's voice faded into the mountain. The team stood around their leader in thought as each tried to process the information their youngest had revealed. After years of secrecy and questions, having so much out in the open was difficult to process.

"He was very brave to open himself up in such a manner," Kaldur was uncharacteristically the first to break the silence.

Wally sighed, "yeah, he doesn't really do the whole vulnerable thing. That took a lot for him to do. I've been his best friend for years and I only knew about the circus."

"You knew his back-story?" demanded Artemis. Accusation ringing in her voice as grey eyes narrowed.

"What can I say? I'm just that special." Wally shrugged, absentmindedly munching an apple he had raided from Connor's fruit bowl. "Plus, I've known Rob a lot longer than any of you have."

M'gann spoke up for the first time since the letter had been read, "I can't believe we finally get to know Dick. All these years and we finally get to know more than a name and a face!"

Connor and Kaldur smiled at the irrepressible girl before both left the room, chatting amicably about how far they had come as a team. Artemis and M'gann followed soon after, the former re-reading Dick's letter as she went. Wally collapsed onto the couch, deep in thought over the newest revelation in the life of his friend. No matter what, he would be the first to talk to Dick after this. Just as he was usually the first person Dick went to.

In the late morning, the Robin cycle pulled to a roaring stop in the garage. Normally Robin would have taken the zeta tube from Gotham to Mount Justice, but after a long night of patrol and the letter he had left for his team, he wanted the time to relax. Leaving his helmet swinging on the handlebars of the bike, he stretched slowly before steeling himself to face the confrontation he knew was coming. He had expected to be ambushed by someone, but Wally still caught him by surprise.

Before he managed to even enter the mountain he found Wally leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. For once, Robin couldn't quite read his expression. Or was that his nerves interfering?

"So you're a gypsy?" Wally asked with a raised eyebrow. "Cool."

Robin smiled back at him as he felt relief wash over him. His characteristic laugh bubbled up, "Thanks. Not a lot of people feel that way about us. But I felt that after all of this time, you guys deserved the full story."

"It's about freaking time, dude! I mean really," Wally's exasperation and expression sent Robin laughing again, the last of his tension melting away. He and Wally walked into the mountain to be quickly welcomed by the rest of their friends.

When all was said and done, Dick was happy he had told his story. He was a gypsy, he would always be Romanian. He would always have the blood of his parents flowing through him, reminding him from where he had come. Reminding him of his first home. But he was also now an American and a hero; titles and a heritage he shared with his best friend, his team, and his father.

Angelina: I have Dick's grandparents hailing from Germany because it's very stereotypical for Romani to be Romanian (that's not their native land). However, since most people on this site, me included, often use Romanian as Dick's mother tongue, I had the tie in there. Gypsies were persecuted in the Holocaust during World War II and many did flee to surrounding nations.

Arthur: Enough with the history lesson, I doubt they care.

Angelina: Anyway, I wanted to write a piece in which Dick explains why his heritage is important to him. He never truly gave up who he was before his parent's died. But I also wanted to include the new identity he took on, as displayed in a changing of nationalities. Also, as the daughter of immigrants, I wanted to pay homage to America as it is the country and culture I call home.

Arthur: Angelina would also like to tell everyone that we are studying abroad in Oxford for the term. So don't really expect many updates (not that she ever updates anymore).

Angelina: I would also like to say that I've been watching Glee recently and thanks to the example of Kurt Hummel, I've decided to come out of the closet. I'm asexual!