Chapter Text
Perpetually cloudy skies, crime-ridden streets, and an unknown masked vigilante stirring up panic among its citizens—Gotham was undoubtedly one of the worst places to raise a family. To put it simply, it was a dangerous place. The same could be said about Haly’s Circus, a travelling show featuring some of the most daring performances and stunts imaginable. Countless visitors filled the tent each night eager to experience the thrill of its perilous shows. Its main act boasted famed acrobatics duo, The Flying Graysons, a husband and wife team that dazzled audiences with their athleticism and skill. Mary and John Grayson were the pinnacle of the ideal American family–a pair that not only worked well together on stage, but also off the stage as parents to four-year old Dick Grayson, a confident and headstrong little boy who dreamed he would be as famous as them someday. He often watched their performance from behind the backstage curtain, carefully peeking through so he could be just as dazzled as everyone else.
When Haly’s Circus came to Gotham, Alfred Pennyworth–butler to Gotham's youngest billionaire, Bruce Wayne–suggested the two of them visit for a much needed break. After turning eighteen, Bruce had spent the entire year trying to convince the boards of Wayne Enterprises that he was more than just a spoiled socialite. Having a say in the activities and investments of Wayne Enterprises would allow him to use his fortune for good; Bruce didn’t want the Wayne name tied to the variety of crime syndicates or secret societies that already seemed to control much of Gotham’s elite. Still, he struggled to be seen as anything other than Thomas Wayne’s bratty son, a reputation he gained for his erratic and reckless behavior during his early teen years. Bruce’s psychiatrist, Dr. Leslie Thompkins, would argue that his behavior was rather predictable for someone who witnessed the brutal murder of their parents–that any kid would be just as impulsive and wild in an attempt to gain back a sense of control. Unfortunately, she didn’t know just how far Bruce would go until recently.
Because that masked vigilante haunting the city’s streets at night was none other than nineteen year old Bruce Wayne, donning a dark cape and cowl that struck fear into those who encountered him. He lurked in the shadows and appeared out of the quiet darkness, a nocturnal creature that preyed upon the criminals who seemed to always evade the law. After only a few months of this, word of Gotham’s “Batman” had spread across the tri-state area, dominating the news cycle—even bumping Metropolis’ new hero, Superman, out of first place for headlines. Bruce decided that if couldn’t influence change with Wayne Enterprises, he’d find other ways to do so.
What he didn’t expect was a third opportunity to create change presenting itself to him the night he attended Haly’s Circus. Under the hot stage lights and in front of the adoring crowd, tragedy struck; Bruce bore witness to the murder of The Flying Graysons. A shady assailant had sabotaged their performance, their trapeze ropes snapping and sending the duo to their untimely death. Screams of horror filled the audience, but Bruce sat there quietly, staring at a tiny pair of eyes peeking out from behind the curtain. He recognized the look in those eyes—the terror, the pain, the disbelief—for a moment it felt as though those were his own eyes reflected back at him. Even as police arrived and the audience was escorted outside of the tent, he stayed there and stared at those eyes looking back at him from behind the curtain.
As the Gotham City Police Department began to investigate the scene, Bruce lurked around the sidelines, trying to gather as much information as he could. He listened as Mr. Haly told the police of a threat he’d received on behalf of Tony Zucco, a powerful mobster responsible for much of Gotham’s organized crime. Mr. Haly failed to pay for Zucco’s “protection services”, and as payback, they murdered his top-selling act. Not only this, but Zucco’s actions left four-year-old Dick Grayson orphaned with no known relatives to take him in.
“If you need an additional witness statement, I’m happy to give one,” Bruce interjected as he approached newly appointed Police Commissioner Jim Gordon. He had first met Gordon as a police recruit on the night of his own parents’ murder; Officer Gordon seemed to be the only one with enough empathy to try and comfort him while he waited at the station. Bruce was thrilled to see him finally become Police Commissioner—after all, he believed Gordon may be one of the only members of law enforcement left that hadn’t been completely corrupted or bought off by one of Gotham’s malicious actors.
“Mr. Wayne,” Gordon greeted him solemnly as he stared at the scene before him, “I didn’t know you were in attendance tonight.”
“I saw the whole thing,” Bruce remarked dejectedly, “An unimaginable tragedy, really. Two lives lost so suddenly. And did I hear they had a child?”
Commissioner Gordon nodded. “That’s right,” he confirmed, “A little four-year-old. Name’s Richard, but he goes by ‘Dick’. Poor kid watched the whole thing happen, too; he’s in a car now being taken to the station for processing.”
“What will happen to him?” Bruce asked, trying to appear aloof, but Gordon noted the concern in his voice.
“He’s got no family,” Gordon remarked with a vigilant eye on Bruce, “Right now we’re still trying to determine if he’ll be sent to Gotham Orphanage or if he could be placed in the foster care system.”
Bruce refused to watch another orphan be placed into a broken system. In the years since his father had passed, Gotham Orphanage had become a shell of the home it once was–decrepit facilities and meager resources to care for the children who lived there. It was one of the things he desperately sought to reform after gaining more control over Wayne Enterprises and the Wayne Foundation. The foster care system in Gotham had its problems, too; there were too many children and not enough sponsor families, and many children were placed in homes with overcrowded, subpar conditions or with people not fit to look after them. Bruce saw a piece of himself in Dick Grayson, but more than that, he finally saw an opportunity to create change and help someone who desperately needed it.
“What would the process look like if I were to take the boy in?” Bruce asked Gordon, a serious and determined look on his face.
Commissioner Gordon sighed as he looked back at him—he could read him like an open book, and knew this situation brought up a lot of emotions for him. He wanted to believe Bruce was approaching this from a rational, level-headed perspective, but he knew that wasn’t true. “Bruce, I want you to stop and really think about what you’re asking,” Gordon cautioned him, “Taking care of a child is a big responsibility. A traumatized one even moreso–”
“I know what it’s like to be a traumatized child,” Bruce interrupted him with fierce stubbornness.
“Exactly,” Gordon countered, “Don’t you think the kid would be better off with someone a little older—someone with more experience? Someone with…with a more stable upbringing and life than yours.”
Bruce didn’t like what Commissioner Gordon was insinuating. He sounded just like everyone else who wrote him off as a spoiled, irresponsible kid. Something within Bruce knew that he was right about this choice. “With my financial resources, that child will be better off than with anyone else in Gotham,” he argued, “He’ll be given a life incomparable to anything he’d have in an orphanage or a foster home. He’ll have access to the top schools and tutors, the best food and medicine, as many toys and games as he could ever want–”
“What about his emotional needs, Bruce?” Gordon stopped him, a stern look on his face, “The kid needs a stable place to grow up, someone around who can support him.”
Bruce let out a deep sigh, then stared back at Commissioner Gordon with a desperate—yet determined—look in his eyes. “I need this, Jim,” Bruce pleaded, “I know I can do right by him.”
Commissioner Gordon wasn’t sure exactly what Bruce had said that convinced him to agree to letting him take in Dick. Perhaps it was the truth that Bruce could provide a better life for him than anyone else in Gotham, or that he had a unique understanding of the boy’s trauma due to his own experiences. Or maybe, deep down, he knew that Bruce needed to look after someone to finally heal himself. Throughout the next couple of days, he personally helped facilitate the adoption process to officially move Dick into Bruce’s care.
A month had passed since Dick had been relinquished to Wayne Manor. At first, Bruce thought it was going great—he’d refurbished one of the bedrooms into a little boy’s dream room, complete with a racecar bed, bright, colorful walls with shelves full of books and trinkets, and a giant toy chest with all the hottest kids’ toys packed into it. He was eating just fine—mostly chips, but Bruce figured it was fine as long as he ate something. He took him on several outings around town—the park, the beach, the movies—all the things he enjoyed doing with his parents at that age. Yet Bruce quickly realized he was in over his head trying to juggle his pursuit of leadership with Wayne Enterprises, his vigilantism as Batman, and parenting a four-year-old kid, especially when that kid was starting to become unruly.
Bruce thought he was doing a good job, but in reality, Dick was often left alone or in Alfred’s care when Bruce had meetings or work to do, as well as at night when he ventured out as Batman. Everything was brand new to him; the vast, empty halls of Wayne Manor made Dick feel even more alone and scared as he tried to adjust to his new life. Bruce kept remembering back to when he was suddenly orphaned—how quickly he learned independence and how to take care of himself—and failed to understand how different an eight-year-old’s capabilities for independence were from a four-year-old’s. Dick wasn’t even in school yet, and still needed a lot of attention, more attention than Bruce had the capacity to give him.
Alfred suggested the idea of hiring a nanny, but Bruce continuously struggled to find someone he approved of that was willing to put up with Dick’s increasingly rowdy and disobedient behavior, especially for the bratty nineteen-year-old who decided to adopt a kid without knowing the first thing about parenting. Those who applied for the assignment were either too militaristic or permissive, and Bruce worried he’d have to give up his pursuit of vigilante justice and power over Wayne Enterprises to give Dick his undivided attention.
However, he finally had an “in” with one of Wayne Enterprises—-WayneTech, to be exact. The board had caught news of his adoption of Dick and, inspired by this unexpected move towards responsibility and accountability, decided to invite Bruce to join them at a press meeting with The Gotham Gazette . He eagerly accepted their invitation to show them that he was invested in his father’s legacy, and could be taken seriously despite his age and past behavior.
Bruce thought it’d be a good idea to bring Dick along with him to the conference; the board seemed to eat up his new role as an adoptive father, so he figured the press would do just the same. He did not consider how a press interview for a tech company may not be an appropriate place for a child, especially one with so many behavioral issues. Throughout the interview, Bruce was constantly chasing Dick around the room in an attempt to get him to sit still. Once he confined him to a secure spot on his lap, Dick interrupted the interviewer about a hundred times, asking irrelevant questions and sending the WayneTech board into shambles. By the end of the interview, Bruce believed there was no way for the board’s opinion of him to be any lower. That is, until, the next day, when the article from their interview came out and dragged Bruce through the mud for his inability to be a responsible parent. WayneTech intended for the interview to cover their newest releases and reestablish faith in the brand, but the article did the exact opposite, and WayneTech’s stock dropped shortly after its release.
Bruce’s chances at leadership on the board were destroyed, and he wondered how he’d ever get his life together when it seemed that each time he pursued change “the right way”, it backfired on him tenfold. Why was the world such a cruel and confusing place? Worst of all, he began to realize just how much he’d neglected Dick’s needs. He only wanted to do the “fun” things with him, not understanding that being a parent meant being there for the bad times too. That night, he decided to put up the cape and cowl and instead spend some time with him. It was then that he realized how lonely Dick really was—how he was afraid to sleep because his nightmares were so intense, how he still cried every night trying to cope with the loss of his parents and the extreme life changes he’d endured over the past month. Bruce never left his side that night, vowing to work harder to provide the comfort and care that Dick really deserved.
WayneTech’s Board of Directors said that the company was off limits to him until he could prove he was responsible and reliable. Bruce decided the first step to restoring his image would be damage control, and set up a personal interview with the Gazette’s rival newspaper, The Daily Planet, to prove he could handle himself.