Batbros Forever

It Just Happened - At the Circus

"You're the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, a billionaire several times over, and have been voted "Gotham's Most Popular Socialite" for five consecutive years. So it begs the question: Why adopt kids?"

Bruce Wayne had been asked this question so often in interviews over the years, yet he still didn't have a concrete answer.

He could never explain what had made him bring his three oldest sons home, or why he hadn't dumped his long-lost son off on some boarding school like most of the other playboy billionaires would have. It all had just happened.

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Bruce sighed as he locked the doors of his Ferrari. The sounds of classic circus music and children's laughter could be heard from the parking lot.

What was he doing here? What grown man goes to the circus by himself? He should just back in his car and hit the town. But he couldn't. Alfred would know. The old butler always found out where he went and what he did.

Alfred had been saying he was looking too stressed for weeks and this morning had insisted that Bruce take a night to engage in some good, clean frivolity. Bruce had tried to insist that he was fine, but Alfred was having none of it.

So here he was — a playboy billionaire at the circus.

III

Bruce found a seat near the front of the stands and watched the various performers interacting with the crowd before the show started. There were all the classics, clowns, strong men, lion tamers. But it was the acrobats that caught his attention.

The Flying Graysons were the Haly's Circus' most famous attraction and for good reason. The family of acrobats was known for their gravity-defying performances and the added audacity of performing without a net.

Bruce locked eyes with the smallest of the trope, a little black-haired boy, maybe about eight or nine years old. The boy smiled and waved at him before his parents lead him backstage.

Bruce shook his head but smiled a bit. The boy knew how to hook an audience, that was for sure.

III

The show was well underway, and Bruce had to admit he was enjoying himself just a bit. It was nice to relax for a while. Neither his day job nor his night job allowed for leisure time. He would have to do this kind of thing more often. Bruce leaned back in his seat and tipped his head back to get a better look at the final act.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the greatest acrobats this world has ever seen: The Flying Graysons!" Pop Haly, the Ringmaster announced, and the crowd cheered.

The family was truly in their element tonight. Flawless summersaults. Amazing catches. They glided from bar to bar as if they really were flying.

Bruce marveled at the way the little boy he'd seen earlier kept up with his family's routine as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for wonderment as you've never seen before, as the Flying Grayson perform their most daring act!" The crowd went crazy as the next was removed from under the trapeze.

The Graysons were putting their all into their finale. This was their signature act! Nothing was supposed to go wrong. But it did.

The sound of the trapeze wire snapping echoed through the tent. Everyone watched the acrobats plummet to the ground. Everyone saw them hit the ground and a pool of blood form around their lifeless bodies. The crowd started screaming, panicking, stampeding for the exits.

Bruce looked up to the platform where the youngest acrobat had been watching his family perform, but he was gone. He was running through the ring now. He collapsed next to his parents, sobbing, begging them to get up. One of the circus hands pulled him away from the scene.

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Bruce didn't remember getting in his car. He didn't even remember driving to the Gotham City Social Services office. The only thing he clearly remembered was asking the woman behind the desk if she knew what would happen to the little acrobat boy who had lost his parents that night.

Foster care. Those were the only words he heard. The boy had no other family, and for whatever reason, the circus couldn't just claim him.

This little boy was going to be dumped into Gotham's already overcrowded foster care system and forgotten about. "I'll take him." Bruce said, cutting the social service lady off mid-sentence.

"Are you sure, Mr. Wayne?" The woman asked, clearly taken aback by the sudden request. "This is a child we're talking about. He will need-"

"I'll make sure he has everything he could ever need." Bruce assured her. The boy was all alone. He had watched his parents die just as Bruce had all those years ago. But he had had Alfred and a fortune to fall back on. This kid had nothing. The woman handed him some forms to fill out and told him he could come and collect his charge in a few days.

III

While Alfred was a bit surprised when Bruce finally got home and told him about his eventful evening, he agreed that this was something Bruce need to do not just for the little boy but for himself.

Two days later, Bruce was walking into the juvenile detention center. The orphanages were all full, and the service workers who had brought him in didn't trust the "little gypsy" as far as they could throw him.

Bruce cliched his jaw at that. This was an innocent child, and they had the gall to place him with teenagers charged with grand theft auto, and manslaughter!

"We're not sure if he speaks English." The guard warned Bruce as he stopped in front of a door. "He's barely said two words since we brought him in."

The guard opened the door to revile the little boy sitting behind a table clutching a stuffed elephant as though his life depended on it. He was still in his costume from the show days before. Still stained with his parents' blood. "Good luck." The guard deadpanned as he closed the door behind him.

Bruce sat down on the other side of the table. "Hi there. My name's Bruce. What's your's?" The boy stayed quiet for a minute, then whispered, "Dick."

"Well Dick, how would you like to get out of here?" Dick's eyes opened wide, and he nodded vigorously. Bruce stood up and opened the door and gestured for Dick to follow him. Dick stood up and slipped his hand into Bruce's.

The billionaire jumped at the sudden touch, and the boy withdrew his hand. Bruce regained his composer and retook the boy's hand. He looked down to find the boy smiling up at him. He smiled back as they walked out of the center.

III

The adoption was made official by the end of the week. Richard "Dick" John Grayson-Wayne was officially Bruce's son. Neither of them could be happier.