Legacies: A Young Justice one-shot/drabble collection

Flying
It's always been a part of him and will always be a part of him.
Word Count: 825
Pairings: None
Rating: K+
Notes: I'm assuming that Richard's origins are the same in the comic book...
the motto at the bottom is the actual Grayson motto. I'm sure there's an older comic that has it, but I have it referenced from "Deadman and the Flying Graysons", not sure which volume though.

Disclaimer: See chapter one~

When he was younger, he used to just watch his parents practice, watch them in their flawless form as they trusted each other with their lives to catch them. He counted down the days until he could join them, for the day he could be a part of that show. Dick already trusted them with his life; they were his parents, his family- there was no reason not to. All he really wanted was to be a part of their show, "the Flying Graysons."

He remembered the first practice he had with them. Dad had been teaching him how to properly tuck flip and a bunch of other crazy things before he brought him up to the trapeze. It had been nervewracking at first, the dizzying height and the nervousness churning in his stomach. Some of the other acts, the others who practiced within the tent had stopped to watch one of the youngest of the troupe practice for the first time.

"It's okay, Dick. Just trust Mom, okay? We'll catch you." Dad whispered in his ear, as he handed his son the handle.

Dick nodded, not really registering what his dad was saying but he gripped the bar tightly and watched his mom from across the way, her smile all support and encouragement. He can't remember if he smiled back. But he took the leap. And he missed her hand.

He remembered that he screamed in fear. The feeling of falling was frightening the first time. Even if the safety net caught him, it still shocked him to fall. But his parents and the rest of his surrogate family were around him, comforting him. It would have been a miracle if he had achieved it on the first try, most of them were saying. Dick just remembers his parents cradling him in their arms, whispering apologies of failing to catch him.

But he still trusted them. Because he gave it thought for a few days and he realized: he liked the feeling of trying to fly. The fall was out of his mind; he can remember the adrenaline rush from it. What Dick remembers though: that was when he wanted to be just like his parents and he would be like them, no matter what.

So he practiced harder while on the ground. Made sure he knew every move he would have to make before he tried again. He knew his parents were worried about him; of course they would be, but they were encouraging, never told him to try something else. Having their son as part of their act was maybe just as important to them as it was to Dick.

When he was on the top again, his body remembered. The shock of falling, the fear it had first injected into him. But he forced his mind to shut that down. He'd practiced, had made sure he knew his moves. He gripped the bar tightly, once, twice and took a deep breath, his dad right behind him, whispering small encouragements in his ear.

"I'm ready." Dick said and he moved forward off the platform….and flew. There was no other way to describe it. The weightlessness when he let go of the handle and the small moment where he was just in the air, with nothing. The europhic feeling came back when his mom's hands caught his and the smile she had, beaming and pure joy.

He was a Flying Grayson.

Xxx

He became afraid of flying for a while, after….after the accident. His parents were always dangerous and high risking people; that was why they didn't perform with safety nets. They were up during practice, but never during the real deal. Sometimes, at night, he wondered: what if….

Dick didn't want to fly for a while; it reminded him too much of his parents, a wound he wasn't ready to revisit yet. He was only nine, after all, and the pain of losing his parents and his circus was a bit too great.

But that's when Bruce came in.

He taught Dick how to love flying again. And not just as Richard Grayson, but as Robin. It was his way of honoring his parents with that name, a way of him to pick himself up and keep their art alive. Robin. His mom's nickname for him.

When he goes on patrol with Batman, when he uses his grappling hook, he can remember briefly the period of time he flew with his parents. If he closes his eyes, he can remember the cheer of the crowd, the feeling of completion, and the smiles and the proud look on his parents faces. If he close his eyes, he can remember briefly the family he once had.

And then he'll remember the family he has now and he will remember: he will never forget how it feels to fly.

How do we swing? With grace. How do we fly? Like birds. How do we land? Together.

Review?

.chary