The scene that unfolded before Carly's eyes that night would forever be far more horrific than she could ever describe. Through most of the show she had sat next to Bruce watching with excited anticipation. She cheered, oohed and ahhed along with the rest of the crowd as the cirque performers attempted their feats of strength or all around merrymaking. When at last it was time for thy Flying Grayson's act, she was literally sitting on the edge of her seat. This joy was short lived.

A family of three highly trained performers would work together for a final time that evening. The act began as it usually did, with John and Mary Grayson swinging and flipping through air. When it came time, the youngest Grayson, Richard, took to the ladder to begin his first ever flight in front of an audience. Tragedy struck before Richard even made it midway up the ladder. Carly felt her breath catch in her lungs as the two performers tumbled towards the ground.

There was nothing anyone could have done. One minute the pair were dangling by their knees from a set of swings; the next they laid sprawled on the ground. They had fallen seventy-five feet with no net to catch them, and no chance of survival. Carly's eyes trailed from the lifeless bodies in the center of the ring over to the ladder they had so recently climbed. Upwards still her eyes moved until they found the young boy. Richard Grayson was frozen halfway up the ladder with his gaze cast downwards. Of all things, Carly found herself wondering what would become of the frightened little boy clinging to the ladder.

Did he have any other family? Would he be lucky like Bruce and have someone else to take him in or would he fall victim to the same fate as so many other orphans? Would he become just another number in a city system that hardly helped children to survive? All around the stands people seemed too shocked to move or react in any way. Even the circus performers seemed too overwhelmed by their own grief to properly react. Not Bruce Wayne. He responded like a professional would; immediately dialing 911 and explaining the situation.

Gripping his best friend's hand tightly, he easily pushed through the crowd of stunned onlookers and introduced himself to the ringmaster. It was incredible the things he got away with just by being the richest man in the room. Together Bruce and the Ringmaster informed the crowd that the circus would be closed for the rest of the night. The guests were instructed to head towards the nearest exist. That seemed to be enough to get most people moving. Carly did her best to help out, working with the ticket takers and other circus staff to clear the bleachers quickly. While sirens could be heard in the distance, heading towards the fairgrounds from downtown Gotham City, hardly anyone heard the quiet tears of a young boy.

Bruce and Carly insisted on staying at least until the police arrived. The police, they reasoned, were going to want to speak to witnesses. Commissioner Gordon was a friend of theirs as well as an office who could be trusted. The circus performers and staff were nearly all inconsolable. Only the ringmaster was able to carry out a conversation, short as his words were. It seemed the Graysons had been well liked. The most heart-wrenching of all this was of course the fate of the son they had left behind.

Richard had climbed down from the ladder, but he hadn't strayed more than a foot from it. His eyes, glassy and unmoving, just stared at the red pool spreading across the ground. Bruce had not let go of Cary's hand since they'd cleared the tent of the other customers. She kissed him on the cheek as he talked with the ringmaster before slipping her fingers out of his. She walked to the ladder where Richard Grayson was standing and introduced herself.

"Hi Richard," Carly greeted him softly. She tried to sound sympathetic but not patronizing. She remembered hating that when she was a kid. "My name is Carly." She paused long enough to give him a chance to respond. He said nothing. "That's okay." She offered a small smile. "We don't have to talk. I know nothing I say is going to make you feel better." Her eyes began to water but she forced the swell of emotions down. A helpful trick Bruce had taught her. "But when my parents died, all I wanted was for someone to offer me a hug. I just wanted someone to hold me. I wanted to feel safe for a few minutes. So, I just wanted you to know, that if you need a hug…"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before the boy had wrapped his arms around her waist. She pulled her own arms protectively around him, holding him close to her as he trembled. Nothing could save him from this tragedy, but for just a few minutes she could make him feel safe. The sirens of the police grew louder. Detectives were being led into the tent and with them the Police Commissioner himself, Jim Gordon.

Bruce took point once the police arrived. In a city like Gotham, the uniforms preferred an explanation form a local. Carnival folk were unfairly considered unreliable transients who would just as soon sell out one of their own for a free ticket home, regardless of the truth. Bruce was relieved to see Commissioner Gordon arrived on the scene. Gordon had been a good cop when he first came to Gotham, and was one of the few who had never been corrupted by the city. He would make sure this case was treated with the severity it deserved.

"My boys said you were the one who made the call." Gordon said in his gruff voice as he stepped into the ring where the billionaire was still standing with the ringmaster. "That couldn't have been an easy call to make."

"Someone had to do it." Bruce told him.

"Is that Carly with the kid?" He nodded to where Carly was still holding Richard Grayson to her tightly.

"Yes." Bruce nodded. "This can't be easy for her."

"Must not be easier for either of you." Gordon sighed. "What exactly happened here?"


A/N: Thank you to J-bird0127 for your review of chapter 11! I haven't updated this story in awhile but I'm very excited to get back into it. Hopefully I will be back with another update soon!