(no subject)
There are many notable days on the Bat-Clan's calendar. Some of them are good ones, like birthdays and holidays, but all too many of them are days when we remember someone we loved. Someone who was lost to us all too soon.
Today is one such day, and it always makes me think of sawdust, popcorn and elephants. I was two years old, and my parents took me to the circus for the very first time. I remember looking around in amazement at all the bright colors on the clowns, and the animals in their travelling cages - Mom was worried I'd be frightened, but Dad was sure I'd be fine. He decided we should talk to a family of performers who were walking nearby - to help me understand these were real people just like us, or some crazy idea like that.
That was the day I met my big brother, Dick Grayson. The day he lost his parents.
Dick was saying something about the World Series - I remembered Dad talking about it a lot back then too, so I knew it was important - and he was very excited. Then my parents introduced themselves and the Graysons let us get our photo taken with them. Dick sat me on his knee, dressed in his vibrant outfit, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He said to me "Watch me on the trapeze, Tim - I'm going to do my act especially for you!"
After that my memory is vague - I was so focused on waiting for the Flying Graysons to perform that I didn't take any notice of the preceeding acts. I must have driven Dad crazy, wriggling in my seat impatiently, but when the Ringmaster announced them I sat completely still and focused on them.
They were nothing short of breathtaking, and they seemed impossibly high up in the air. Dick was in his element up there, doing his quadruple somersault. After a little while he lowered himself down to the ground as his parents got themselves into position for their next move. Mrs Grayson went first, hooking her knees over the bar as she swung, and then Mr Grayson followed suit. Then it happened. Their trapeze rope snapped and they fell.
I turned away, unable to watch, but then I heard Dick crying and had to turn back again. He was sat on the floor of the center ring, clinging to his parents like his presence could wake them up again, and I couldn't help but cry too.
Next thing I remember, a dark shape flew down towards Dick. I didn't know what it was, but I thought it had hurt his parents and was now going after him. I wanted to help - I didn't know what I could do, but I wanted to do something. My parents held me back, but the thing moved closer to Dick so I tried to call out a warning to him.
Then he touched Dick, and I realised he wasn't trying to hurt him. He was there to help.
That reassured me somehow, and I didn't struggle when my parents took me home. They worried about me for a while, afraid I'd been traumatised by what I witnessed. It's possible I was - I never forgot what I saw, and if I hadn't been there my life might have been significantly different. Maybe I wouldn't have become so obsessed with Batman, leading me to approach Dick eleven years later about the need for a Robin and end up getting the job myself.
But what I do know? John and Mary Grayson would be very proud of their son today; the good person he's become, how he uses the skills they started him learning to make Gotham and Blüdhaven - heck, even the World - a better place. I am proud to call him my brother, and I feel honoured to have met his parents, however briefly.
Today is one such day, and it always makes me think of sawdust, popcorn and elephants. I was two years old, and my parents took me to the circus for the very first time. I remember looking around in amazement at all the bright colors on the clowns, and the animals in their travelling cages - Mom was worried I'd be frightened, but Dad was sure I'd be fine. He decided we should talk to a family of performers who were walking nearby - to help me understand these were real people just like us, or some crazy idea like that.
That was the day I met my big brother, Dick Grayson. The day he lost his parents.
Dick was saying something about the World Series - I remembered Dad talking about it a lot back then too, so I knew it was important - and he was very excited. Then my parents introduced themselves and the Graysons let us get our photo taken with them. Dick sat me on his knee, dressed in his vibrant outfit, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He said to me "Watch me on the trapeze, Tim - I'm going to do my act especially for you!"
After that my memory is vague - I was so focused on waiting for the Flying Graysons to perform that I didn't take any notice of the preceeding acts. I must have driven Dad crazy, wriggling in my seat impatiently, but when the Ringmaster announced them I sat completely still and focused on them.
They were nothing short of breathtaking, and they seemed impossibly high up in the air. Dick was in his element up there, doing his quadruple somersault. After a little while he lowered himself down to the ground as his parents got themselves into position for their next move. Mrs Grayson went first, hooking her knees over the bar as she swung, and then Mr Grayson followed suit. Then it happened. Their trapeze rope snapped and they fell.
I turned away, unable to watch, but then I heard Dick crying and had to turn back again. He was sat on the floor of the center ring, clinging to his parents like his presence could wake them up again, and I couldn't help but cry too.
Next thing I remember, a dark shape flew down towards Dick. I didn't know what it was, but I thought it had hurt his parents and was now going after him. I wanted to help - I didn't know what I could do, but I wanted to do something. My parents held me back, but the thing moved closer to Dick so I tried to call out a warning to him.
Then he touched Dick, and I realised he wasn't trying to hurt him. He was there to help.
That reassured me somehow, and I didn't struggle when my parents took me home. They worried about me for a while, afraid I'd been traumatised by what I witnessed. It's possible I was - I never forgot what I saw, and if I hadn't been there my life might have been significantly different. Maybe I wouldn't have become so obsessed with Batman, leading me to approach Dick eleven years later about the need for a Robin and end up getting the job myself.
But what I do know? John and Mary Grayson would be very proud of their son today; the good person he's become, how he uses the skills they started him learning to make Gotham and Blüdhaven - heck, even the World - a better place. I am proud to call him my brother, and I feel honoured to have met his parents, however briefly.