All characters belong to their respective companies
Dick had always loved opening night of a show.
The thrill was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.
The lights, the audience, the cheers, the energy, the excitement. It gets the blood pumping.
He'd always found it exciting long before he'd been allowed to perform. He'd sit up in the nest during the routine. Always jealous of his cousins that got to perform even though they weren't much older than him.
But finally, he was allowed to join them. Not for the parts without a net, not yet. His father said he wasn't ready. Dick felt he was ready. He'd been doing all of this his whole life. How could he not be? His mother had told him to be patient. Maybe next year. Well, actually not next year. Not ever.
When they came, Dick remembers they stank of bourbon and cigars.
English was new to him and his father, they talked way too fast for either of them to follow. Dick stuck around to try and help translate, just in case. His dad hadn't really caught on the way he had and mom wasn't nearby to help.
But he'd been dismissed when Jack Haley came by and told them to 'hit the bricks', whatever that meant. Dick could tell they didn't like it. He could tell they said offensive slurs and that, whoever they were, they were trouble.
How could they not be?
Dick hadn't caught enough of the encounter. He wishes he'd been more stubborn. Maybe then all of this wouldn't have happened.
He knows that whatever was said had affected everyone.
He'd grown used to nervous energy before a show. All of this was the wrong kind of nervous. The circus was supposed to be in Gotham for three nights. Two had been cut, leaving the one show.
Dick isn't sure what those guys did. He'd been sent to check and make sure the rigging was secure when he saw them messing with the wiring. They ran before Dick got a good look at them.
When he checked it he didn't see anything wrong with it but everyone's mood was enough to make him cautious.
When he'd tried to warn his dad he got told to stop messing around. No one listened to him. No matter who he tried to tell.
Dick didn't know why no one was taking him seriously. He wishes he'd tried harder. Maybe he could've stopped it, then they'd be on their way to New York and that whole encounter would just be a distant memory.
He'd never really believed in luck or anything of that nature. Things had always just been good. Dick had always just been happy, he had lots of great friends and family, he had the coolest jobs, got to see the coolest sights, and just had an awesome life in general.
Had his life been too good?
An old fortune teller that used to be in the circus a few years ago had once told Dick she saw incredible things in store for him but they came from a great loss. When he asked his dad about it he'd told Dick not to listen to her.
Maybe she'd been right. He would definitely count this as a great loss
He'd never seen absolute fear in someone's eyes before tonight.
The netted part of the performance had gone without incident. Then he waited in the nest like he always did.
There was the sharp sound of the wires snapping under the pressure. Dick had heard it before. He'd been practicing in a gym when several wires had snapped and they'd all fallen onto the safety net. Even with it there Dick remembers the terror when he was falling.
His mom had been swinging out to the nest, she was going to land before jumping back out for the big finally.
She didn't make it.
There was terror in her eyes. She was scared.
He doesn't remember the climb down. He remembers the screams, from his family, from the audience, from himself. He can still hear the awful sound of their bodies.
Raya caught him before he could reach them. He kicked, hit, screamed, and clawed at her. He needed to get to them. But she hadn't let Dick anywhere near. Clay helped pull him out.
Everything else was a blur.
Sitting out in the rain talking with policemen. Being ushered around by just about everyone. Hasty goodbyes to the circus. To all he'd ever known.
Dick wondered if he'd ever see them again. He felt like he wouldn't.
Finally it led him to a very loud police station. The woman talking to him had given him some hot chocolate in a paper cup. He hadn't drunk any of it. He felt sick to the stomach.
"Can you remember anything else?" She asked him.
So far she'd been the only cop that was kind of nice.
He shook his head.
She gave him a soft sympathetic smile. "Okay, this very helpful Dick." She reached out, just enough to grab his hand as a show of comfort, or something like it. "I promise I'm going to do everything I can for you."
And Dick, he wanted to believe her. She wanted him to believe her. But Dick wasn't sure if he could. After tonight, how could he trust anybody?
She opened her mouth to say something before someone cut her off.
"Hey Lieutenant. CPS is here for him."
She groaned. "I told them I would call when he was ready.
He shrugged. "I don't know. They're here to take him."
"Okay." She refocused on Dick. "I will be right back. I still have a couple of things to talk to you about so I'm going to see if she can wait a little longer."
Dick nodded numbly.
She gave a reassuring smile before going to talk to CPS.
They didn't let her finish her questions. Kept saying it could wait despite her arguing that the memories are best when they're fresh. They didn't seem to care. Kept saying he was traumatized and tired.
Before he knew it he was being escorted inside an even more depressing building. It seemed to be a physical embodiment of how Dick felt.
He saw Lieutenant Gordon one time after that. She had him look at a lineup of some thugs to see if he recognized any of them and then some photos for the same thing.
Then nothing.
He wasn't told when his family's funeral would be and then he was told he'd missed it because he hadn't told anyone when it was.
He was blamed whenever anything went missing, whether he'd been near it or not. The staff did, what he learned were called, corporal punishments.
Dick hadn't realized that adults hitting kids as a form of consequences happened so often it had a name. A name that made it sound not as bad.
Usually it was a spanking with a paddle or a cane. One of them had slapped his cheek and called him a liar. He tried his hardest to not cry. He'd been able to avoid it with the spankings, getting slapped didn't provide such luck. He'd never been slapped before, especially by an adult.
But that was nothing compared to the other kids. He could avoid them for the most part. They hurled insults and slurs they hoped would hurt Dick's feelings. Probably would if he understood half of them. Their tone alone was enough to offend him.
They tried to get physical. Dick was much faster than them so he didn't have too much trouble escaping.
It didn't stop them from trying anyways.
Finally they were able to corner him. Probably got tired of Dick running away. He tried to understand why they would be like this. They were all in a bad situation and Dick was small and an easy target. Perfect for taking out their frustrations.
He's pretty sure his ribs were cracked by the time they were done with him.
Every breath was pure agony for a few days. When he tried to tell one of the nuns what happened, in the hopes of medical attention, they told him to stop trying to get attention and to leave them alone.
Dick hid away in an attic and cried for hours. It was beyond unfair. He had nothing and no one and he'd been left here to essentially rot while the people who ruined his life got to walk free.
He wouldn't stand for it.
So he would find them. He didn't think that Lieutenant Gordon was lying to him. He did think she was trying, but he did think she might be lying about how hard she was trying.
She seemed like she was in charge of a lot of things at that office. She probably has a lot of responsibilities.
It was on him to take care of this. To find the man responsible.
Dick started by checking out where the circus had been, looking for clues before widening his horizons. After a couple of weeks of late night snooping he came to the rather frustrating realization that he had no idea what he was looking for.
Lieutenant Gordon had said it was best to go over all details while the memories are fresh. Dick worried the longer they went free the less he'd remember about them. They might get away because Dick can't remember their faces.
It's a stupid thought honestly.
He isn't sure how long he'd been followed. He may be small and fast, but they're big, they have a car, and they know this city.
When they got him in the backseat he recognized them immediately.
Hatred burned in his soul. He didn't understand why they would do this to people they didn't even know.
As they take him far away from St. Agnes to parts of Gotham he'd never seen before he wonders what death is like. He wonders if he'll ever get to grow up and experience all of the grown up things in life.
He's left with only one thought. He doesn't think he'll be separated from his family for much longer.
You know that feeling when your house burns down and you lose everything?
Yeah, I wouldn't know but it probably sucks. Anyway, I had to leave you hanging just a little bit longer. Consider it an early Christmas gift.