Post by The Wonderful Wachter on Mar 5, 2012 4:14:58 GMT -5
[highlight=blue]Haly’s Circus, Blüdhaven
16 Years Ago[/highlight]
Shots fired! Shots Fired! We need back up!
Excited gasps and cheers were cut short; just like the wires that had held the two trapeze artists suspended majestically in mid-air mere moments earlier. Now their broken bodies laid sprawled on the hard canvass as the crowd sat in a stunned silence. Seconds passed, and people in the audience and employees of the circus finally sprang into action once the initial shock wore off. Unfortunately, by then it was already far too late to make any real difference.
Two members of the Flying Graysons had taken to the air for the very last time, their wings clipped. Haly’s Circus hadn’t visited Blüdhaven in well over a decade. The promotional material all promised an experience that nobody in the audience would ever forget. No one could have foreseen that the promise would be fulfilled in just about the absolute worst way imaginable.
“Mom…dad…” A weak voice croaked out from high above, prompting some in the audience to look up from the grisly scene in front of them. It was the third member of the Flying Graysons. In all the commotion everyone had momentarily forgotten about young acrobatic prodigy Dick Grayson; the only ten year old in existence capable of performing the quadruple somersault.
Almost everyone that is.
One man in particular was already half way up the platform before anyone else even thought to retrieve the boy. The child was rooted in place; too numb to move and too stunned to say anything else. He jerked back, black bangs dangling across his face when the older man laid a hand on his shoulder, lost his balance, and very nearly added to the tragedy of the moment. A set of strong hands pulled him back from the brink, and wrapped around him in a gentle embrace. He couldn’t even get a good look at his savior as his vision suddenly blurred with tears he hadn’t even realized he was shedding.
Officer down! We need back up!
Dick’s mind had been unable or unwilling to truly process what he had witnessed, but in the blink of an eye the realization seemingly dawned on him all at once. They were gone. The only people in the world he could call Mom and Dad were gone. They made their living by taking risks, yet he never once imagined it would end like this. His parents were supposed to be daring, spectacular…invincible.
They were the amazing Flying Graysons.
He always believed in his heart that no matter what risks they took, the Graysons would always live to fly again. It was that unwavering confidence that allowed him to push his own fears aside when he trained to follow in their footsteps. And now that was gone too, stolen right along with everything else he had lost this night.
“It’s all right kid,” the man urged. “Let it out. Let it all out.”
And so he did.
---
Nearly a full hour passed before an emotionally exhausted Dick Grayson was led back down to the canvass. By then the police were on the scene and already performing a preliminary investigation. The bodies of John and Mary Grayson had been removed moments earlier, but the chalk outline left behind was a chilling reminder of the impact that claimed their lives. The limbs were drawn at awkward angles, and around each outline was a small splattering of blood. The height of the fall had been bad enough, but the added speed and momentum of the trapeze artists just made things even worse.
“Good grief,” a plain clothes detective remarked, his gut bulging and a growth of whiskers littering his face. “I’ve seen car crash victims whose bodies weren’t this badly mangled afterwards.” The man towered over the crime scene, but his height seemed to be nearly equaled by his girth, and his suit struggled to contain it all.
Goddamn it. Another Red Hood? How many does that make now?
Who’s that freak in the orange?
“Keep your mouth shut, Redhorn,” the man wasn’t dressed as a cop though his entire bearing screamed it. He had a thick pair of glasses over the bridge of his nose. White and gray streaks were scattered through his faded red hair. And his mustache was certainly something. “Their kid is right over there.” The man hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating Dick. “ What’s the matter with you?” Despite an extremely noticeable difference in size between the two, it was clear who was calling the shots. . . The smaller man and he didn’t even have a badge.
Is that chainmail—
I don’t care who he is. He has Grayson’s back. We just have to get to him.
“I was just sayin’…”
“Yeah, well next time maybe you should try keeping those thoughts to yourself. Just sayin’.”
Redhorn’s partner strolled up from interviewing the numerous eyewitnesses with the beat cops. He was young and of obvious narcissistic descent. His hair and suit were as prim and proper as could be “Easy boyo…you know Frankie didn’t mean anything by it. His foot and mouth have an annual correspondence, yes?”
“The hell that scab’s opinion matters,” Redhord muttered under his breath, this time having the decency to keep his voice lowered. “He’s not on the force anymore. Too good for the honorable heritage of a Haven Cop. Ain’t that right, Gordon? Or you just lose your nerve after the wifey kicked the bucket?”
There was a tense silence between the three men. The third, Soames, stepped in to hold a restraining hand on both. All three turned their head to see the two small children, both red headed standing behind the police cordon watching altercation. The elder of the two – a boy with glasses just as thick as Gordon’s – held the little girl’s hand in his and tried to turn her away to no avail.
“Maybe you should go back to the family,” suggested Soames after the awkwardness had passed for the moment. “Been a traumatic night for the laddie and lass, yes? Redhorn will stay back here and keep going over the scene. Maybe he‘ll get lucky and find something we all missed earlier.”
Down, boyo, the Calvary has arrived!
The words had an almost conciliatory sound to them, but Gordon had worked with him before and knew it to be a serpent’s tongue. The previous exchange had clearly left something of a sour taste in his mouth, and given his past experience with both men, he was in no hurry to make amends.
“Whatever you say…sir,” Redhorn replied smartly with a salute. His emphasis on that last word coupled with his less than stellar body language made it seem more like the one finger variety as opposed to a proper salute.
“I’m talking with the boy,” Gordon’s tone left no room for debate.
Soames glanced back at the other man’s children once more. The look on the boy’s face told a story. It told this wasn’t the first time some crisis came before his sister and him. “Just remember, you’re not a cop anymore.”
---
Jesus Christ! How is he even alive?
Dick was about ready to collapse when he heard someone call out to him. His new friend still stood by his side, and gave the boy a reassuring smile. It didn’t help all that much, but he was still grateful that someone was there for him. And finally, he took notice of him. The man was taller than his father, built like a fighter; with hair he couldn’t quite figure out if it was brown or a shade of red. His face was intense and chiseled yet Dick found nothing but kindness and sorrow in his gaze.
The man didn’t need to be kind to him. He didn’t need to be the first one up on that platform after… after… Dick couldn’t finish that thought. Yet he had rushed up there to his aid when no one else had. The twisted fantasy of what he would have done had the man not been there threatened to surface. All it would have taken was one step.
One step and he could have been with his parents again.
Damn it. He’s losing too much blood!
“Richard Grayson,” a stranger’s voice, an even stranger accent, stopped him from dashing back up the platform and taking one last leap. “I’m Detective Dudley Soames. I know this has been tough for you, laddie, but I need to get a statement.”
“Are you sure this can’t wait detective?” Dick’s newfound guardian asked, a protective hand on Dick’s shoulder. “At least give him a chance to rest for a bit.”
“And you are?”
“Richard Drakunovski.”
A flicker of surprise rocked Dick back on his feet. He knew that name. Any kid with an interest in professional fighting knew it. He glanced up at the man with newfound confusion. Why would he care about a boy who wanted to take one last leap of faith?
“Richard Drakunovski… Drakunovski.” The detective’s voice hitched a pitch. “Richard Dragon? The prize fighter?”
“Ex-prize fighter,” Drakunovski corrected. “I’m done with that, so I don’t go by that name anymore. And all this is beside the point anyway. I still think that he needs a chance to rest.”
He’s crashing!
A second man with graying hair and a mustache nodded in understanding. He was the same size as Soames but in normal clothes that one wore out during their time off. He looked somewhat familiar. “Normally I’d agree, Mr. Drakunovski but Mr. Haly is giving the B.P.D. a runaround. We need to gather as much intelligence, excuse me, information as quickly as possible. Meaning they think it might not have been an accident.”
“Who are you?”
“James Gor—“
“You were in the audience,” the three men look at Dick in surprise. Those were the first words he had spoken since the incident and his voice sounded dead. There was nothing to it. “With your family. Boy and a girl. I saw you from up there. I saw everything,” he paused looking at the ground. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”
James crouched down until he was in the boy’s line of sight. He looked into those bloodshot eyes over tearstained cheeks, frightened for a moment, because he saw nothing behind him. The kid was lifeless. “You didn’t ruin our night, son. It wasn’t your fault.”
Where’s that last bullet?
I can’t find it!!
There was no color to Dick’s face. He had no tears left to cry. The men waited on him to go on. Soames scuffed his feet. Richard removed his hand from his shoulder. And James simply crouched, patiently.
“I did. And it was. Like I said. I saw everything. Right before we went on. A man was by the equipment. I didn’t recognize him. So I told Mr. Haly and he said it was nothing. Probably some worthless Blüdhaven scavenger. I missed the worry in his eyes. I remember that now. So I tried telling my parents but I was so excited that when I saw the crowd… I just forgot. It’s so amazing up there… flying… falling.”
Mr. Drakunovski reached down once more and placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder, trying to console him. “Listen to me, kid,” he began. “No matter what you think right now, it was not your fault. It was some sick bastard’s. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong. Understand?”
James nodded in agreement. “He’s right. The person who is truly responsible is still out there and the police will find him,” he turned a threatening glare on Soames. “If they don’t, then I know some people who will. You have my word.”
“Easier than you might think, Gordon,” another detective appeared, dragging with him Mr. Haly. The ring master was sweating profusely, his jowls quivering in fear and white hair nappy. The officer threw the old man to the ground violently. “Go on, C.C.. Tell the boy who you let murder his parents.”
“Dick, I’m sorry, so very sorry. Please forgive me,” begged Mr. Haly, his voice hoarser than Dick could ever remember it being. “I didn’t me—“
The new detective grabbed Mr. Haly by the hair and pulled his neck back until he was looking at the circus top. “I didn’t say to plead your case to St. Pete. I told you to tell the boy.”
“Redhorn!” roared James, inching towards the man only to be restrained by his partner.
“Stay out of this, Gordon. You couldn’t stomach Haven justice. Well this is it. Fatso is going to confess here and now. Hard to lie when you look the victim dead in eye, huh? Hard to keep secrets?” Redhorn twisted the hair to elicit a scream.
“Zucco! Tony Zucco!” Mr. Haly cried in pain. “He tried to make me pay him protection money. But I didn’t have it. The circus is on hard times, y’know? So I told him to get the hell out and if he ever came back, I’d have my strong man rip his arms off. I didn’t think he’d go that far.”
Soames pulled his partner off finally and helped the circus owner up… roughly. “Didn’t think he’d go this far, eh? This is Blüdhaven. You’re lucky you still have a tent over your head and your audience isn’t dead.”
Dick didn’t worry about the police brutality he had just witnessed. Didn’t care in the least about Mr. Haly’s sobbing, somber form. Now he had a name to a face. Now he had a reason.
Now there was life behind his eyes once more.
And Gordon and Richard saw it…
Whew. Don’t know how it happened but he survived. We did good work here tonight.
Won’t matter if he doesn’t wake up.
---
[highlight=blue]Studio of the Dragon, Blüdhaven
12 Years Ago[/highlight]
C’mon, Dickie-bird. You can’t die that easily. You still owe me another fight.
Darkness surrounded Grayson. His every move a whisper, his opponent just as silent. He did not need to be able to see to know where he was. This place had been his home for going on his fourth year. Every creak and crack was known to him. Every shingle whistling in the wind told him the direction he was facing. He knew where he was.
What he couldn’t find was his opponent, vision hidden as it was behind the blindfold.
“Dickie-bird,” taunted the annoying brat. All part of Richard’s test for both Grayson and his foe. They would be forced to fight each other, unable to see, taunted and toyed with on all sides. “Brawk, brawk, brawk, brawk. Don’t be a chickenwuss. Hit something.”
What the hell do you think you’re doing here? It’s your goddamn fault he’s in the ICU. He saved your ass for nothing!
[highlight=orange]That’s right. He saved me. And I’m paying my respects.[/highlight]
Get the hell out!
[highlight=orange]I’m also paying to make sure he gets better care than your department would provide so watch your tone.[/highlight]
A calming breath forced down the loathing he had for the young Elliot. A relatively new student and a prodigy like no other, he had been moved up to the advance class far outside his age bracket. He was insufferably annoying. Which in Richard’s mind, made him the perfect distraction.
A slap of a bokken on the wall.
A clap of the hands in annoying rhythm.
Blaring country music interlaced with rap… that was the worst.
Grayson sought his opponent. He circled the mat, trying to sense the vibrations on the floor, the changes in breathing. But nothing.
“Never gonna date Candy Kane if Richie Rich kicks your butt!”
“He’s never going to date me at all,” she responded. “Can’t stand a man with a better ass than me. Even if it’s about to get kicked.”
Legs were swept out from beneath Grayson in an instant. He rolled out of the way before the fist could come down where his head had just been. Spinning to his feet, he felt the breeze of a follow-through brush past his hair in mid somersault. He came down on the mat lightly, sweeping his leg out in return for a chest strike. It was caught in mid-flight.
Twist of the wrist and Grayson was back on the mat floor, spiraling in the air. His foe brought the leg up, never letting go of his ankle, positioning it into a painful hold. The leg bent, his knee threatening to go ways it should never go. The pain was… intolerable. Grayson was left with no other choice. He tapped out.
“Ding, ding, ding,” mocked the kid. “Scrooge McDuck wins!
[highlight=gray]You’ll pull through. You don't tap that easily.[/highlight]
---
[highlight=blue]Singapore, Singapore
9 Years Ago[/highlight]
Why won’t daddy wake up? Why are all those tubes in him? They shouldn’t be there! He shouldn’t sleep this long. He always yells at me to wake me when I oversleep! Daddy! Daddy! I’m yelling at you so please wake up! Please wake up! Please! Daddy! Daddy! Wake up, please!
Ethan! Grab her before she pulls something out!
“Damn it, Dick. All I’m saying is how do you know she’s yours?” Richard Dragon paced up and down the length of the suite he shared with his student and foster son. He ran his fingers through his beard and down his cheek every so often only pausing to glare at the young man. “You need to get a paternity test.”
Grayson held the adorable little bundle in his arms. She had his eyes and chin with a pinch of her mother’s skin tone. She was absolutely beautiful in his eyes. Every coo made his heart beat faster. Every giggle nearly had him cry. He had a family again. And this time, no one would take it away.
I’m trying! I’m trying! But it’s like she has the strength of a man twice my size.
Daddy!
Mari, sweetie, why don’t we go down to the gift shop and see if there’s something nice for you leave here while you’re at school, okay?
Little Mari Grayson stared up at her papa with her big gorgeous eyes. In the span of days, she had become his whole world. His everything. Grayson had turned down a public appearance at convention the other day to spend it with her. Today he was missing a tournament and would suffer a fine. But he didn’t care.
“Believe me, Rich,” he made funny faces down at his daughter, encouraging her laughter, “a DNA test is out of the question.”
“Out of the question? I’ve seen the women, the girls, you’ve paraded though your hotel rooms since I made the piss poor decision to let you follow in my footsteps. Old ones, young ones, tall ones, short ones. All want a taste of the Second Coming of the Dragon and you gave it to them time and time again. What makes this girl so special?”
The glare Grayson turned on the man who had been his legal guardian these past six years was chilly enough to make Richard’s skin crawl with goosebumps. He hadn’t seen such a look of intensity directed at anything, least of all himself, since Grayson had found out the name of his parents’ murderer. For a moment, he wondered if he could stop the boy… no, the young man, if he decided to storm out of the room.
Richard stopped his pacing and squeezed the bridge of his nose. It took quite a number of calming breaths before he was once more under control. Warily, he approached the father and daughter pair. Hoping to mend the bridge he just cracked, he held out his hands. “May I?”
What’s going to happen to Mari now? He’d never want her in the system. He breaks out in hives every time he and Amy had to team up with child services to take kids away from their parents even when he thought they needed some place safer to sleep.
I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find Richard but it’s like he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. Even my father has come up empty handed.
Poor Mari… Wait… Where’s the Dragon’s Claw?
“She has your eyes,” Richard said softly as the tiny bundle reached up to play with his beard. “Dick… I’m too young to be a grandfather.”
“What are you talking about? You have the gray in your hair and you’re always complaining about your back.”
“I only complain about my back so it’ll stop you from hounding me to fight.” Richard countered with a smile on his lips. The little girl mimicked his smile and his heart skipped a beat. Oh, she was a dangerous one alright. How could he think of taking her away from Dick? She’d finally given him a reason to exist other than to train, fight, and sleep… though not necessarily in that order.
Besides, come thirteen years from now, she’d be paying Dick tenfold for every gray hair the young man had put on his head and in his beard.
[highlight=orange]Take him off life-support.[/highlight]
What?
[highlight=orange]You heard me. He’s been part machine long enough. Time for him to decide if he wants to live or die.[/highlight]
---
Blinding white light filled Grayson’s vision for as far as he could see. The voices, the chorus of angels whispered in his ear. He had never heard something so beautiful before. No… wait. He had. All throughout his life. His daughter’s laughter. The music with its crescendos had nothing on the laughter of his little princess. Laughter he would never hear again.
Tap, tap, clack.
That didn’t sound like heaven. That sounded more like a finger tapping on a glass before setting it down. Slowly, in small steps, Grayson become aware that the light he saw was not the pearly gates. It was white, sanitary, yes… but it wasn’t the afterlife. And that was no angelic chorus. It was horrendous opera music that made his ears want to bleed.
He struggled to move, realizing he was on a hospital mattress within seconds of sensation returning to his body. He turned his head towards where he heard the tapping but all he could make out was a black and white blur sitting on one of those couches hospitals have with prolonged occupants. The blur gained shape, definition. He made out the beard and the hair.
First his thoughts were of Richard but unless his master had lost an eye since they had last sat down for a family dinner then it wasn’t him.
“Happy to see you’re still among the living,” it was a memorable voice though Grayson could not recall ever hearing it before. “That fiery partner of yours probably would have shot me had you chosen to die.”
“W-w-w….” the words wouldn’t come out. Grayson’s throat was too scratchy and dry.
The white bearded man downed his glass of questionable liquid in a single gulp. “You should give it a few moments before trying to speak. You have been out of touch for quite some time.”
Grayson blinked.
“Ah, you want to know who I am,” the man smirked all the way up to his eye patch. “I am the man you saved though had you realized who I was, you might have thought carefully before taking a couple of rounds of bullets in my name.”
He blinked some more… still waiting.
The man approached his bedside, good eye somehow focused on Grayson’s hand, the call button, and his face. “In your line of work, you’ve probably heard of me. My name is Slade. Slade Wilson.”
Slade. Slade… Wilson. The name was certainly familiar. Grayson felt his features scrunch up into something resembling a pug as he tried to remember. Slade Wilson… Who was—
The Terminator.
Grayson had almost sacrificed his life to save one the world’s most famous bounty hunters and mercenaries. He had risked his life, his daughter’s future, to save a man who thought he was above the law and allowed to get away with it… And as he thought about it, he would have done it again. That had been his duty.
To protect and serve.
Even if that meant protecting and serving Deathstroke the Terminator.