Give Critique and Advice!

Stekowsky Cemetery, East End, Gotham City, Eight Forty-Two AM, October 1989

Bruce Wayne looked at Joe Chill's grave. He had just spent the morning at his parents, and now he had to face down their killer. The one man ever whose life he had taken.

"This will never happen again. Ever."

He looked at the name engraved in stone.

Joe Chill.

"Its not okay. It's not okay..."

GCPD Lemmars, North Gotham, Twelve Forty-Nine PM, October 1989

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Scoffed Jack Haly

His furrowed brow was made less extreme by the lights reflecting off the gray walls, floor, and hanging blinds of the small, tight police office, identical to all the ones around it in this newly, and cheaply, built police station.

"Sorry sir. Kid was born in Austria. No birthright citizenship. Parents never bothered to get the kid citizenship, and in their will, inheritance is all thats useful. His legal guardian- who doesn't have a will- is also dead. State law is that, in absence of these, kid goes to a local orphanage. Same basis for Sanctuary City laws. I don't agree with it either, but I've gotta enforce it. I'm sorry, I really am. Just- say your goodbyes, okay? I don't know what else to say. I've never met a, uh, a circus man." Mournfully explained a police officer.

Jack sighed. He understood perfectly. The man was far from a genius, but he could pay attention enough to know what this mess put him in. He stepped out the office and talked to Dick.

"Hey Dick. I know you. You were listening, weren't you? The walls here aren't thick."

Dick considered lying, but after the past 24 hours, he had no interest. "Yeah. I heard. Everything. Don't wanna talk."

"I know you don't son. So just, listen. Your dad.. was one of my best friends. He has- had- been for decades. So I can't let this happen, but I have a choice. So, I either have to choose between setting everyone working for me back financially a year at least or abandoning you in Gotham without seeing you until our next break, or our next tour, depending on how successful we are, and," Jack looked at the orphan, feeling his soul pouring out, "or.. until you turn eighteen. I could give up the circus to someone else. Plenty would take the name and position of Ringleader Haly. But that would mean I have to set up a job in Gotham, a life, and.. I'm old and its hard. But we'll manage."

"So?" replied the last Grayson. "Leave me. I don't wanna set everyone back, and I don't wanna ruin your life."

"Oh, Dick, my boy. It wouldn't be ruining me. It'd just be a new challenge, alright? I've faced.. a lot of challenges. So did your Father. Your Grandfather, god rest his soul, was even worse. Heh.." Jack didn't know what to say.

"Please, just leave me. I don't- I know I can't go back to the circus after that. I can't even l-look at you in the eyes." The ten-year old curled up and cried again. Jack put his arm around him. "I- I don't wanna go back. I'll die. Like them."

"No, no, no Dick. You won't you'll be fine. Look, I'll give you time to think about it. You're mature for your age. So go, get better."

"My answer won't change. I.. I told God I wanted to die last night." Said Dick, struggling through tears. "Today, I-I-I wanna l-live. B-but not with you. Not with the cir-circus. Please, Mr. Haly. Just let me go. I... I have to do this. You.. You get it, right?"

"I get it. I respect your wishes, Dick. Just.. think it over a bit. When you decide.. well, just come see us. We all love you, son."

Swan Memorial Orphanage, North Gotham, Seven Twenty-Three PM; November 1989

Swan Memorial was built in the 1960s as a state of the art, new luxury home for the most unfortunate of Gotham's children.

Poor old Swan never considered Gotham would enter an perpetual and seemingly exponential crime wave less than a decade after his orphanage was built. After nearly 20 years of that, the Orphanage was dangerously overpopulated. Disgustingly so. Not just by the orphans, though they themselves were far more than the orphanage's capacity was originally meant for, even surpassing the add-on in 1985 a year after it was built. The nurses also had to share office and work space, as there were too many fights for the originally intended nurse staff. Same went for psychologists, who were also overworked and underpaid. The orphanage's sleek, open design gave luxurious amounts of space to every orphan and worker there, however, this comfort faded into grime and filth as it was inefficiently used by the steady flow of new children. The orphanage's main selling point soon proved to be its downfall, but the state, out of options, still used it.

The saddest part? North Gotham is one of the nicer parts of town.

Dick Grayson was dropped off here after saying goodbyes to his family- not literal one of course- at Haly's Circus, had refused any comment from reporters, whose obsession with the Grayson story proved to be nothing special for the fickle mind of any journalist from the tabloid gossiper to the Channel 2 newsroom.

Now he had gotten into routine for the orphanage after a few weeks here. 7 am was wakeup. 8 am was school- sent to Gotham Lemmars, the public school. They had lunch passes from the orphanage and their own bus, but Dick never talked to anyone. 3 pm was pickup from school, or 6 pm if you had extracurriculars. The orphanage lacked the gas money for hourly trips. Dick had to wait 2 hours after he failed the tryouts for the gymnastics team. He couldn't perform. 4pm began study time, where silence was enforced until 6. 7pm was dinner, usually catering from a cheap local place, but at least they tried to make it nice. That was good enough for Dick, though there were some foods from Eastern Europe and Asia he was going to miss. 9pm was room time. 10pm was lights out.

Dick thought this over. He had known it for weeks, but now was really thinking, with no real goal to think towards, or any knowledge or wisdom he could gain. He sighed, supposing it was a cruel metaphor for his new life's monotony. What was really interesting, however, that Dick had stopped crying himself to sleep.

Monotony and tears. Monotony and tears. Monotony and- no tears. Monotony.

Instead of waiting for hours until they dragged him off to his room, Dick stood up. He was going to do something.

What?

Well, that was the hard part.

For starters, he went back to his room. It looked different during this time of day, at dusk. The lighting cast stark shadows on the tall room. The grayed stone walls and grimy concrete floor were illuminated in deep red, and the tall 16-paneled window was blinding to look through.

"You're early. Usually you don't get here until 9."

Dick looked to a dark brown-haired, angular-faced, thin boy on the right side of the room, draped in shadow right out of the way of the light from the window. He was reading a fantasy novel Dick had never heard of.

"Hey. I-I didn't notice you. Should'a been more observant.."

"It's fine. I haven't heard you talk outside of school since, like, two weeks ago, Richard." The boy looked up, "Should I call you Richard? I know its your name, like on the door, but you really don't seem like a Richard."

Dick sat down. The boy put the book down and looked him in the eyes. "I've been called Dick for.. ever, I guess," he laughed a tiny bit, "You're... William T., right?"

"Yep. Will Tugwell. At least, that's what my mom called me. No clue who she was. My dad died back in the 70s, before I was born. He was a doctor. But you," William pointed at Dick, "You're that circus kid. You knew your folks."

"Y-yeah. It wasn't an accident, like the news said. It was the mob. Criminals. Bad guys." Dick picked his knees up to his face, resting it on them.

"Yeah, that's the main reason kids are here. Sorry that I'm, you know, talking. Its usually not so recent. You're not mad, are you?"

"No, Will. It's fine."

"Good. Pleased to meet you, roomie." Will stuck out his hand with a respectful look on his face. Dick happily shook it.

"Thanks, uh, friend. Friend?" Will smiled and nodded, his long brown hair bobbing up and down. "Good. Thanks, Will."

"Wanna go downstairs? I don't.. really have friends, uh, either. But it'll be fun."

'How can it be fun if you don't know anybody?"

"I have acquaintances. I'm also bad with names. But I'm older than you, right? I'll be twelve in three months. So you kinda have to come with me, right?"

Downstairs, Seven Fifty-Five PM

Dick and Will opened the stairway door into a tall, wide hallway. On a wooden bench sat a small girl in a yellow orphanage skirt and grey t-shirt doing a crossword.

"Hey, Duela. Meet Dick. We're bored."

The small girl looked up. Her left eye was green, and her right was blue. And you're not "It's Du-eh-la. NOT Dwi-la. Haven't I known you for like a year?"

"Yeah, so? Nurse Quinzel calls you Dulea. That's not even a name," retorted Will.

"So, Will," Duela stood up. She was shorter than both of the boys, and obviously younger. "Who's this?"

"I'm Dick Grayson. I'm, uh, new here."

"Duela Dent. 9, uh, 10 now actually. I'm not new. Are you Will's new roommate? I hope you get along. Will's cool. I've got two roommates. It's crowded. Once I-"

Will stepped in between the two. "That's enough Duela."

"DU- E- LA!"

"Whatever. She does that. The talking thing, not the name thing. But you really should make her do the name thing. Dwi-la really rolls of the t-"

"Now you're doing it too!"

"Yeah, that's called a conversation! Mine made sense, yours was random bullshit!"

Duela gasped. "DOCTOR! Will said a swear word!"

"I'm twelve! I'm in middle school. I'm fine."

"You're not twelve yet! And sixth grade isn't even middle school in most places. It usually starts at seventh!"

"Hey, cut it out." Butted in Dick, "Why even argue? Will, if she doesn't like it, then don't say it in front of her. I, for one, don't mind."

"hm," came from the two orphans.

"C'mon, let's walk and talk, or, talk and walk," suggested Dick.

"Wh-what's the difference?" asked Will

"Talk-n-walk sounds better. Smoother."

"Ah. like Dwi-la."

Duela nudged him in the side.

Dick pushed open a door, and him, Will, and Duela stepped outside. They were on the ground floor, within the line of sight to the front gate, but they were on the side of the once-lovely marble orphanage.

"Check this out," said Dick, using his acrobatic skills to quickly hop up the side of the building, hanging from the bottom of the lunchroom balcony, smirking at the shocked faces of his new friends. He didn't stop to think, but this, hanging from the stone, was the first time he came close to smiling in almost a month.

It was a fun night, but merely a fleeting happiness.