Fleet Sparrow

He was lonely. So lonely. Alfred always said he understood. Everyone said that, but nobody could understand. They were all adults. Adults never understand! They always talked about how it was “so terrible”, a “tragic happening of life”, but that he needed to learn “getting over” things, that “time will pass”, that “it will heal”.

“Alfred. We’re going to the circus. Get the car.”

“Of course, Master Bruce.”

Bruce tapped his foot the entire ride, eager to reach his destination. He’d always seen wonderful things about the circus in pictures and books. Perhaps it was what he needed. Maybe someone there would understand.

He told Alfred to stay and went on to the ticket booth. His ticket stamped, he went on to the entrance, hesitating. It didn’t seem very impressive from the outside. Maybe it was better once you were really in it. Setting his shoulders, he walks through the welcome-arch.

There’s music and laughter and so many scents of things he’s never smelled before and people skipping around and the sounds of animals and all kinds of children everywhere. Kids who’d understand him.

This place was magical.

He weaved between crowds, taking in all the sights and smells and sounds and things of a circus. Why had he never been there before? Everything was wonderful and happy here.

He walked over to a crowd gathered around the elephant, moving between people to see clearer. The elephant was amazing. He’d never seen one up close before, not even in the zoo! He looked over at the presenter, eager to learn about this elephant, and felt his breath catch in his throat.

The presenter was a boy about his age, a bright ball of walking sunshine, beautiful and smiling, radiating happiness. Bruce couldn’t help but smile as the boy looked at him. He hadn’t smiled in a long time. Not since they died. Not really.

An adult came over and took the elephant’s rope, telling the boy something. The boy smiled and waved goodbye to the group and skipped away. Bruce stepped away from the crowd and followed him. He wanted to make friends with the smiling boy. He could understand him.

He cornered the boy behind some trailers on the outskirts of the camp. ”Wait! I want to talk to you!”

The boy stopped and looked back at him. ”Hi. You’re not really supposed to be here.”

“I-I know, I just—” Bruce bit his lip. ”I just wanted to say hi. I’m Bruce.”

The boy smiled. ”I’m Dick.”

Bruce smiled back. ”So… you work with the elephants?”

“No. Zitka’s my friend, so I show her around!” Dick giggled, his laugh bubbling like music. ”I’m an acrobat!”

“Really? That’s so cool. I’m—” He stopped himself, smiling slightly. ”I’d like to be. It looks so fun. How old are you?”

“I’m eight-and-three-quarters!” Dick beamed proudly, making Bruce chuckle.

“Wow. Do you do it all by yourself?”

Dick laughed, bouncing on his toes. ”No. I work with my mom and dad. We’re the best acrobats around!”

Bruce’s smiled faded. Oh, maybe he wouldn’t understand. ”That must be nice,” he said. ”I don’t have parents anymore.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” He meant it, Bruce could tell.

“You’re really nice. Thanks.”

Dick smiled. ”I have to get back to my folks. The show’s gonna be starting soon.” He started to move away, then stopped and looked back. ”You’re sad. I’ll do my special flip just for you! Then you won’t be sad anymore!”

Bruce gasped slightly, then smiled. ”Really? You’d do it just for me?”

“Uh-huh!” Dick nodded brightly. ”Be watching!” With a wave, he bounded off for his trailer.

For his parents.

Something inside Bruce burned. Angry. Violent. He wanted Dick to be his friend. Dick said he was sorry. He almost understood! But he couldn’t. Dick still had parents.

He wandered around the grounds, scowling to himself. Dick’s parents did everything with him. Dick’s parents were always around. Not like his. His parents were gone. Dick could never understand.

Not unless his parents were gone, too.

Bruce looked up. His feet had led him straight to a back entrance to the big top, down by the arena floor. He looked around for someone watching, then slipped inside. No one seemed to be around, so he continued further. There were some ropes on the ground, set up like for a trapeze. It must be what Dick will perform on.

It came to him in a flash. No one would know. It would be some terrible accident. A tragic happening of life.

He looked around frantically for something sharp, anything that could cut through rope. The knife-thrower’s box was already set up off to the side, and he fled to it, grabbing a knife and all but flinging himself to the ground by the trapeze. Time was short. People could come in any minute!

Carefully, he sliced at the rope, just enough so it would fray. Too much weight and it would snap. Satisfied his work was done, he returned the knife and snuck back outside. The lines were already starting to go in for the seats, so Bruce joined them, panting slightly as he showed his ticket. He was jittery with anticipation, both for the show to start and in the aftermath of what he’d done. There was no stopping it now. Whatever happened, happened.

The show was incredible, but Bruce hardly really registered it. He kept waiting for the acrobats. For Dick. Dick said he’d do his special flip for him. Suddenly, the lights went out and a bright spot shone down on the Ringmaster.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Now, watch and thrill as you witness aerial artistry, daring leaps of faith, and death-defying stunts, all performed without a net! Presenting the Amazing Flying Graysons!”

The spotlight jumped up to the top of a pole where Dick stood with his mother, both waving at the crowd. Bruce half-waved instinctively, smiling broadly as he watched Dick. He was right there. He would do his flip for him soon!

The Graysons did simple flips, passing back and forth, double and triple flips here and there for flavor. Each one brought a gasp from the audience at each last-minute catch. They swung back to the posts, setting up for the next trick.

“And now, the youngest Flying Grayson will do his most astounding trick. Young Dick is one of only three people in the world who can successfully accomplish this stunt: The Quadruple Flip of Doom!”

The crowd waited with bated breath as Dick prepared. Bruce leaned forward, suddenly terrified. What if the rope broke while Dick was on it? Then he’d lose his only friend! Bruce watched in horror as Dick primed his rope, Dick’s father hanging from the other trapeze.

One.

Two.

Three.

Dick pushed off, letting go of the bar at the apex of his swing.

One, two, three, four flips!

With an audible “HUP!”, Dick caught his father’s wrists, swinging back to safety. The audience cheered wildly, swept up in the excitement of the flip. Bruce sighed in relief, tears in the corners of his eyes. Dick was safe. Dick did all that just for him. Bruce smiled up at Dick as he applauded. He and Dick would be such great friends.

“Isn’t he a wonder? Quite the natural bird, young Dickie. Well, we’ll let the young robin rest. He still has quite a lot to learn, as his parents will be quick to demonstrate!”

The Graysons began their double routine, but Bruce only had eyes for Dick as he climbed back down to the ground. A few moments later, a shriek pulled him back to the performance.

The rope snapped.

He watched with a cold knot in his stomach as the Graysons fell, flashes of pearls and roses in his mind. The crowd screamed and rushed out, fleeing the tragedy, but Bruce just watched Dick.

Dick understood.

He wasn’t alone.

He slipped out of the tent, returning when the police arrived. He beckoned Dick away from the police. ”I know a place you can be safe,” he said, holding the sobbing boy’s shoulder tightly. ”Officer Gordon will take you there. You won’t be alone.” Dick nodded, and returned to the policeman indicated.

Batman watched as they left, returning to his car to meet them at the manor. He smiled. Bruce had a friend now. Someone to understand him.

They’d never be lonely again.