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***

FREAKSHOW
An Elseworlds tale

By Libby (scooterkitty@attbi.com)

***

10/16/02	

Article from The Gotham Sun Times, Aug. 16, 1934:

HALEY BROS. CIRCUS RETURNS TO GOTHAM CITY

By Libby Thomas
A Sun Times reporter

Gotham City—With the city of Gotham, and the entire nation, in the 
midst of the worst depression of their combined histories, the return 
of the Haley Bros. Circus, harks back to simpler, more innocent times. 
Times when wonderment and joy at the world were the norm, when an 
evening spent gawking at outlandishly dressed clowns and daring 
performers, while munching on cotton candy was as close to heaven as 
one could possibly imagine.

Starting tonight, for a reasonable fee, the people of Gotham City will 
again be able to experience that magical feeling. The circus will be in 
town for the next two weeks. Yesterday, many lucky Gothamites were 
treated to a preview of the spectacle as they lined 4th Avenue to watch 
the Grand Parade. The circus performers marched from the docks, where 
they had arrived by boat from Europe, across the narrow island that is 
Gotham City, to the county fairgrounds just beyond the city limits 
(just a short train ride away). The circus has its own train waiting 
there to transport them all on the rest of their North American tour, 
of which Gotham City is the first stop.

The people on the streets, who stoutly withstood the sweltering summer 
heat, gawked and gasped at the exotic animals, the colorful, and 
sometimes scandalous, costumes of the performers, and the amusing 
antics of the clowns. The huge, ornate calliope was quite a delight, as 
was the large marching band.

The crowds cheered and applauded each of the performers as they trooped 
past, but most were patiently waiting for the stars of the show, the 
Flying Graysons, the family of trapeze artists who perform their death-
defying routine without a net. Many of the young girls interviewed were 
particularly anxious to catch a glimpse of the youngest member of the 
famed circus family, the Graysons' handsome, twelve-year-old son, 
Richard, who performs a very difficult and show-stopping, quadruple 
flip. He is one of only four people known to have completed this 
remarkable feat.

When the small family did finally make their appearance, toward the end 
of the parade, the crowd went wild. John and Mary Grayson rode side by 
side on identical prancing, white stallions, their bright, jewel-
encrusted capes spread out across the horses' rumps. A rhinestone-
studded tiara sparkled in Mary's dark hair, proclaiming her the queen, 
not just of the circus, but, at least for the day, of Gotham City as 
well. Immediately behind his parents, astride an enormous and very 
rare, white Indian elephant, rode the undeniable crowd favorite, 
Richard Grayson. The boy waved to the crowd enthusiastically and 
dazzled them with his brilliant smile. This reporter swears she could 
actually hear the sound of hearts breaking throughout the city (her own 
included).

With such a spectacular build up, this show should prove to be one for 
the ages. 

~*~*~*~

	Leaving the huge, main tent, after completing their morning 
workout, the Grayson family headed toward their personal train car to 
shower and begin their preparations for the evening's performance. 
Passing by the menagerie, the large stable that housed all of the 
circus' animals, as well as several of the sideshow's "freaks", they 
saw a large delivery truck with a huge, wooden crate in its bed. The 
crate had numerous holes cut into it and faint growling noises could be 
heard from within. Pops Haley stood nearby, his arms folded across his 
bear-like chest. He did not look happy.

	"Hey, Pops, what's going on?" John Grayson asked as he and his 
family approached the owner/ringmaster of the circus. "Did we get 
another animal?"

	"We didn't, no, Pharnum did," Haley said darkly, nodding toward 
the tall, angular man who was directing the workmen toiling to remove 
the heavy crate from the truck.

	Barnabus Pharnum owned and ran the sideshow operation that 
traveled with the circus. He was a shrewd businessman and a consummate 
entertainer, but he could be ruthless in his dealings with his 
"fabulous freaks" and he was not a popular man. The Haley brothers only 
tolerated him because they couldn't deny that he and his freaks brought 
in their own share of the revenue. Although lately the man had been 
grumbling that he should get higher billing on the posterboards. He had 
offered to buy into the circus, even going so far as to suggest that 
they rename it The Pharnum and Haley Bros. Circus. Pops and Harry Haley 
had told him that they would think about it, having absolutely no 
intention of doing so, of course.

	"So, what is it?" Mary asked, coming to stand beside the two men.

	"He says it's some kind of half man, half bat creature. I don't 
know where he found it, but he plans to call it 'The Batman'," Haley 
answered.

	"Catchy name," John said dryly. "The man's a brilliant showman, 
but not very original."

	"That's alright, neither is most of his audience."

	The workmen had succeeded in getting the crate off the truck and 
now they were moving it into position for the creature to be 
transferred into a large, wheeled, iron cage. The workmen who had made 
the delivery backed away, allowing Pharnum and his carnies to move in 
and take over the task of transferring the creature to its new home. 
Several of the heavily muscled men were carrying clubs and Pharnum 
himself held a whip. 

	Stepping forward, Pharnum pried one end of the crate open with a 
crowbar. He jumped back quickly as something large and human-shaped 
came flying out of the crate, bowling over two of the carnies as it 
did. Instantly the other men jumped on it, swinging their clubs 
viciously. The creature went down under the rain of blows. A head 
covered with dark, matted hair, or fur, connected with the hard-packed 
ground. The head turned to the side and a pair of startlingly blue eyes 
locked onto another pair of blue eyes; the wide, shocked eyes of 
Richard Grayson. Despite the matted hair, the pointed ears and the 
visibly sharp fangs, the eyes that gazed at the boy were filled with 
intelligence, emotion, and pain.

	"Stop it!" the boy yelled, stepping forward. "You're hurting 
him!"

	With all the activity, both Mary and John had momentarily 
forgotten the boy's presence. Turning to him now, Mary quickly pulled 
her son back, trying to shield his face from the cruelty, but the boy 
squirmed away from her. 

	"Dad, Mr. Haley, do something! Make them stop!"

	"Dick, Son, there's nothing I can do," Haley said gently. "The 
creature belongs to Pharnum."

	"Dad, please!"

	With a sigh, John looked at his son sadly. "I'm sorry, Dick. 
Mary, take him back to the car."

	Taking a firm hold on the boy's shoulders, Mary began steering 
him away, toward the family's small train car.

	"C'mon, little Robin, it's going to be a long day. I want you to 
take a nap before tonight's show," she said soothingly.

	"Yes, ma'am," the boy whispered.

	Watching his son walking away, head down and shoulders slumped in 
defeat, John had to fight down the urge to walk over and grab Pharnum's 
whip and demonstrate to the man just what the weapon's sting felt like.

	"Dammit, he shouldn't have seen that," John swore, angry with 
himself as well.

	"No one should, John," Haley said quietly. "No one should."

~*~*~*~

	Dick woke up an hour later, his sheets sweaty.  The summer 
afternoon was hot and humid, the train car poorly ventilated. Kicking 
the top sheet off, the boy flopped over onto his back, trying to find a 
cool, dry spot on the narrow bed. There was none. It was too hot to 
sleep. Dick's bed was an elevated berth, literally a wide shelf set 
about three feet below the car's ceiling. Having the bed elevated 
allowed the family to use the space beneath it. With three people 
living in such cramped quarters, any and all living space was at quite 
a premium. Short, heavy curtains drawn across the opening of the berth 
provided some measure of privacy, but they also blocked all air 
circulation. 

	Pushing the curtains aside, the boy basked in the initial rush of 
moderately cooler air. Unfortunately that rush didn't last long. 
Rolling onto his stomach and letting one arm drape over the side of the 
bed, Dick looked to the opposite end of the car to his parents' berth. 
Their bed was on the floor. Being a double, it was too heavy to suspend 
from the ceiling. The curtain was drawn and Dick could hear the faint 
snores of his father.

	Deciding that laying in bed, staring	at the ceiling was not 
going to do him any good, Dick scooted to the edge of the bed and 
climbed down the narrow metal ladder attached to the wall along side 
the bed. Pulling on a pair of lightweight, cotton shorts, a linen 
shirt, and his tall, rubber boots, the boy headed outside. The rubber 
boots were a necessity when one lived and worked in a place that housed 
several species of large animals. The grounds would be cleaned up 
before the crowds started arriving for the evening show, but until 
then, one had to watch for the large, organic landmines. 

	After making a quick stop at the pie car, the boy headed for the 
menagerie. At least once a day, on non-traveling days, Dick would stop 
by to visit with the animals and bring them treats, usually apples or 
oranges that he would charm from the head cook. Mabel Cronwell was a 
large, gruff woman, who ran her kitchens with the military precision of 
a drill sergeant, but she had a soft spot in her heart for the young, 
dark-haired trapeze artist and the boy exploited this weakness 
mercilessly.

	Entering the dimly lit stable, the boy was relieved to find that 
none of the handlers were around. During the hottest part of the day, 
the animals generally just slept, so the trainers left them alone. 
Afternoon shows in the summer could be very dangerous for the handlers. 
Most of the animals, even the ones acclimated to warmer climates, just 
wanted to sleep through the heat of the day and were less than happy 
about being roused and forced to perform. Like any human would, they 
often became grumpy, uncooperative and quick-tempered. This could be a 
very deadly combination for the inexperienced handler. But luckily, 
today there was only an evening performance, so the animals were free 
to sleep in peace. In fact, most of them barely even noticed the boy's 
arrival. 

	Despite the rank, overripe smell of animals and their waste, and 
the constant, annoying presence of the flies, this was one of Dick's 
favorite places at the circus. Second only, of course, to standing in 
the spotlight at center ring, under the big top, on the small platform 
high above the sawdust floor, with the crowd hushed, waiting for him to 
swing out and hurl himself into the open air toward his father's 
outstretched hands. Dick often fantasized about apprenticing himself to 
one of the animal trainers, but he always came to his senses quickly. 
He knew that he could never truly be happy if he wasn't flying. It was 
too much in his blood, too much in his soul.

	Walking past the rows of stalls that housed the horses, the 
zebras, and the camels, he would pause occasionally to talk to a 
particular animal and give it a treat. As he could only carry an 
armload of fruit at a time, he never had enough treats for every 
animal, on every visit. So, to be fair, he always took note of who 
didn't get a treat, so that he could make sure they got one on the next 
visit. 

As he made his way slowly through the stable, the boy became 
aware of someone watching him. Stopping to pet and feed Darshna the 
tiger, Dick turned his head slightly and glanced toward the far corner 
of the stable. The brightly painted, wheeled cage with the bat creature 
had been placed there and, although the creature was huddled in a 
corner of the cage, it was awake and watching the boy's every move. 
Turning his attention back to the big cat in front of him, the boy 
reached through the bars of the cage to scratch behind the tiger's ear. 
A deep rumbling sound came from her throat as she leaned her big head 
into the touch. Many of the trainers had insisted to Dick that big cats 
couldn't purr, but the boy had his own opinion. Bred and raised in 
captivity, Darshna was about as tame as a 300-pound Bengal tiger could 
be.

Standing and resuming his slow progress through the large room, 
the boy would frequently glance over at the bat creature's cage, only 
to find that it was still watching him intently. Normally, Dick avoided 
any of Pharnum's freaks housed with the menagerie, but he found himself 
strangely drawn to this one. The creature's blatant stare seemed more 
curious than hostile, but perhaps the boy was only projecting his own 
feelings onto the other. His father had always warned him to be careful 
around Pharnum's collection. The unusual animals were often the 
products of inbreeding and could be unpredictable and aggressive.

Reaching the end of the room, only a few yards from the batman's 
cage, Dick stopped to say hello to Parva, the elephant. Glancing down, 
he saw that he only had one apple left. He had planned to give it to 
the white elephant since he hadn't been able to give her anything 
yesterday and she had been kind enough to carry him through the streets 
of Gotham.

But, with a quick glance over his shoulder, the boy said, "I'll 
bring you two apples tomorrow, Parva, I promise. But right now, I think 
someone else could use this one more than you."

The boy laughed as the elephant bumped him affectionately with 
her trunk, almost knocking him over. 

"You understand, don't you, girl?"

Giving her rough trunk a pat, Dick turned and walked slowly over 
to the far cage. He approached it cautiously, unsure of what the 
creature's reaction would be. Stopping about five feet from the bars, 
well out of arm's reach, he stood and examined the creature. It lay, 
huddled at the far corner, examining him.

From what he could see, the boy guessed that the creature would 
be fairly tall. Its body, which was clothed only in a pair of tattered, 
denim work pants, was covered with short, coarse, black hair, as was 
its head and much of its face. The abundance of brutish, dark hair made 
the contrast of the bright, intelligent, and sensitive, blue eyes all 
the more startling. Long, slender, claw-tipped fingers graced the large 
hands and long folds of membranous tissue hung from the arms, extending 
from the wrists all the way to the shoulders, like some kind of skin 
cape. Whether these strange, bat-like wings would actually allow the 
large creature to fly was up for debate. Fangs, pointed ears and a 
wide, upturned nose/snout added to the creature's bat-like look. While 
a bit unsettling in appearance, it was not truly ugly, at least it 
wasn't as bad as some of Pharnum's other attractions.

Remembering the apple in his hand, the boy slowly stepped forward 
and cautiously reached through the bars to offer it to the batman. The 
creature glanced at it briefly, but made no move to take the fruit.

"It's okay," the boy coaxed softly. "It's just an apple. I didn't 
do anything to it."

When the creature still didn't move, Dick set the apple on the 
floor of the cage, just inside the bars. He stepped back a few feet and 
waited to see if the batman would move. It didn't.

"Okay," the boy said, with a sigh, "I'll come back tomorrow to 
see how you're doing… I thought bats liked fruit. But maybe you just 
don't like apples. Maybe tomorrow we'll try an orange."

Turning, Dick started toward the door. He had only taken a few 
steps before he heard the unmistakable crunch of an apple and the sound 
of smacking lips.

Yes! The boy thought triumphantly, smiling to himself.

~*~*~*~

	The evening had not brought much relief from the heat and Dick 
stood outside the back entrance to the big top, sweating under the 
heavy, satin, rhinestone-studded cape that was draped over his costume. 
He and his parents were waiting for their cue to enter the tent. The 
boy fidgeted with pre-performance jitters, swinging his arms and 
shaking his legs to make sure his muscles stayed warmed up. Hearing 
noises to his left, he turned to see two of Pharnum's carnies pushing a 
large, wheeled cage. After a moment he saw the huddled form of the 
batman inside it. The men were obviously moving the creature over to 
the sideshow tents. 

	Stopping for a break from pushing the heavy cage, one of the men 
reached into a pocket of his workshirt and pulled out a package of 
cigarettes. Pulling one out and sticking it into his mouth, the man 
fished in another pocket for his silver Zippo lighter. 

	"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" the other carnie yelled at 
his companion. "You know you can't smoke near the big top! What the 
hell's the matter with you?"

	"Oh yeah, sorry. But, damn, I need a smoke," the first man said.

	"Yeah, me, too. C'mon, let's go over by the food cars, it's okay 
there."

	"What about Ugly, here?" the first man asked, hooking a thumb 
toward the cage.

	"Eh, they don't need him at the 'House of Horrors' for a while 
yet. He'll be fine. The public's not allowed back here. Besides, you 
think anybody's gonna steal him?"

	Laughing, the two men disappeared beyond the glow of the big 
top's lights. Seeing that the creature had been left alone, Dick 
wandered slowly over to the cage. Putting his hands on the bars and 
peering inside, he could see that it was awake and watchful as usual. 

	"Don't you ever sleep?" the boy asked. "But then, I guess it's 
almost time for you to perform, too, huh? I'd wish you luck, but I 
don't suppose you care much about your performance either way."

	"Gotcha!"

	The sudden, unexpected feeling of someone grabbing him around the 
waist, from behind, startled the boy, making him gasp and quickly jerk 
away. He turned to find Marko DiVossi, the circus' resident sword 
swallower, standing behind him, laughing. 

	"That's not funny!" Dick snapped.

	"Aw, take it easy, little man," the tall, hawk-faced performer 
chuckled. "You're awfully jumpy tonight. That's not a good thing, 
especially when you're about to go flying fifty feet above the ground 
with no net."

	Deciding to ignore the man, Dick turned back to face the cage. 

	Turning to look also, Marko exclaimed, "Man, is that thing ugly!"

	"Don't say that! He's not ugly!" Dick said quickly, suddenly 
feeling protective of the creature.

	"It's not like it can understand what I'm saying."

	"I'm sure he can understand a lot more than you think."

	"Whatever you say, little man."

	"Stop calling me that!"

	"My, my, we're certainly in a mood tonight, aren't we?"

	The boy didn't answer.

	Glancing over and seeing that John and Mary were engaged in quiet 
conversation, not paying attention to their son, Marko reached out and 
ran his fingers lightly down Dick's cheek.

	"Oh, now what's the matter with my favorite little didakai?" 

	"Stop it!" the boy hissed, jerking his head away from the man's 
touch. Didakai was the Romany word for half-breed and it was not a term 
of endearment.

	The man stood smiling smugly down at the boy, amused by his 
anger.

	"Dick, come here! Harry is going to be calling us in a few 
minutes!" John called to his son.

	"Okay Dad!"

	With one last glare at Marko, Dick went to rejoin his parents, 
resolutely putting the man out of his mind. The family had a ritual 
that they went through before every performance. The three held hands 
while John and Mary knelt down to put themselves on their son's level. 
They all leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. Each member 
of the family took a deep breath and concentrated, each visualizing in 
his or her own mind every movement that they would make during the 
performance. 

	Harry Haley poked his head out of the tent flap, saying, "John, 
your family's on in five minutes."

	Separating from each other, the two adults stood, but the family 
continued holding hands for a moment longer. Releasing his wife and 
son's hands, John reached out and cupped each of their faces with one 
of his hands. Looking at each of them a moment, he said simply, "Fly 
well."

	Mary and Dick each nodded, hastily crossing themselves and, with 
one last solemn clasp of hands, the family disappeared inside the huge, 
oilcloth tent. The batman watched intently from his cage.

~*~*~*~

	"C'mon, sleepy-head, get up."

	Being comfortable and, at least, reasonably cool, Dick did not 
want to move. The performance had run long and he hadn't gotten to bed 
until late last night. Judging from the amount of light and growing 
heat in the car, he supposed that his mother had already allowed him to 
sleep in a couple of extra hours, but he still didn't want get out of 
bed. Although there was that tantalizing smell of frying bacon…

	"C'mon, little Robin, it's time to fly. Barbara is going to be 
here in a half hour to give you your lessons and you need to eat your 
breakfast."

	That definitely got his attention and Dick smiled into his 
pillow. He always enjoyed spending time with his pretty, red-haired 
tutor, Barbara Gordon. Barbara was actually one of the circus' 
showgirls and her father, James, was in charge of security. There were 
twenty showgirls and they performed a kind of aerial ballet where they 
spun and twirled, hanging from one ankle or hand attached to a long 
rope, which was suspended from the rigging at the roof of the big top. 
These hanging ropes, as well as the act itself, were called the Web and 
it was one of the more graceful acts of the circus. 

	Recently, Dick's parents had started discussing the possibility 
of adding another member to their act, most likely a woman, and they 
thought they would take one of the showgirls as an apprentice. Barbara 
Gordon's name had come up a number of times as a possible candidate and 
Dick was privately rooting for her. She was one of the few showgirls 
who treated him like an equal. The other girls were always patting him 
on the head or pinching his cheeks, as if he were perpetually five 
years old.

	Climbing out of his bed, Dick gave his mother a morning kiss on 
the cheek and went to the car's tiny bathroom to wash up and comb his 
hair. By the time he finished with his brief morning ablutions, his 
mother had his breakfast laid out for him. The train car had a small 
cook stove and breakfast consisted of fried eggs, bacon and a glass of 
milk. Dick was just finishing this when there was a knock on the car's 
door.

	"Come in!" Mary called.

	"Hi, Mrs. Grayson, Hi Robin," Barbara said brightly as she 
entered the car, using the pet name that Dick's mother had given him, 
because he had been born on the first day of spring.

	"Hello, Barbara," Mary said. "Would you like something to eat 
before I wash the dishes?"

	"Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Grayson. I've eaten… So, are you ready 
for the American Revolution?" the young woman asked the boy.

	"I guess," he answered, carrying his dishes over to the sink, 
where his mother was waiting to wash them.

	Returning to the table, he helped Barbara clear it off so they 
could work there. Barbara was not actually a certified teacher, so she 
did not write Dick's lesson plans. Mr. Garvey, the circus' official 
teacher did that. But all of the other children at the circus were 
either high school or elementary school age and they took up most of 
Mr. Garvey's time. As Dick was the only middle school age child, 
Barbara, who was getting her college degree via correspondence, had 
volunteered to tutor him. Mr. Garvey wrote out the lesson plans and the 
tests, Barbara just carried them out. Dick was quite happy with the 
arrangement. Barbara was not only nicer to look at than Mr. Garvey, but 
she was much more fun as well. Mr. Garvey was a humorless man with a 
soft, monotonous voice that always seemed to instantly lull Dick into a 
stupor.

	Pulling out his schoolbooks, Dick settled himself at the small 
table opposite the young woman, and they got to work while Mary washed 
the dishes and tidied up the car. Today they were covering the decisive 
Battle of Bunker Hill. History was one of Dick's favorite subjects. 
Since the circus traveled so extensively, he found it exciting to know 
that some of the most important events in history had occurred in, or 
near, the places where they were performing. 

	They had only been at the books for about an hour when Dick's 
father returned to the car. He had been at the big top, checking over 
their rigging for fraying or other signs of wear. He did this 
obsessively before and after every performance. You can never be too 
careful or too prepared in this profession, John had often told his 
son.

	"So, what are we learning today?" John asked amiably.

	"We're covering the Battle of Bunker Hill and the American 
Revolution," Dick answered.

	"Ah, yes, the Rebellion," John said, nodding sagely. He had been 
born and raised primarily in England, although his parents had been 
circus performers as well and had also traveled a great deal.

	"Huh?" Dick asked, while Barbara chuckled softly.

	"John, you're just confusing him," Mary said, smiling. "He 
doesn't get the joke."

	Moving to stand beside his wife, John slipped an arm around her 
waist. Dick and Barbara returned to the open book in front of them.

	"It's a lovely day," John said, conversationally. "Not quite as 
hot as it has been … shame to be stuck inside…"

	During the winter months, the circus shut and down and returned 
to Florida, and for those three months, Dick attended a regular school. 
The rest of the time, Mr. Garvey and/or Barbara tutored him. Since they 
sometimes did two and three performances a day, these lessons were 
sporadic and year round. Whenever Dick complained about having to have 
lessons in the summer when other children did not, John would lecture 
his son about the importance of education. And yet, now, it seemed as 
if his father was actually encouraging him to skip his lessons. 
Confused, Dick glanced over at Barbara, who was smiling 
conspiratorially at his parents. Turning to them, the boy noticed their 
smiles and the way his father was squeezing his mother's waist, and 
Dick understood. Groaning and rolling his eyes, he thought, again?

	One day, only last week, while they were on the boat, coming to 
the U. S.  Dick's parents had bluntly, and rather rudely, in his 
opinion, told him to go outside their cabin and play, and not to come 
back for at least an hour. The boy understood that when the circus was 
traveling privacy was hard to come by, but, jeez, how often did they 
need to do this?

	"Come on, Dick," Barbara said, starting to gather up their 
things. "Why don't we go do our lessons outside? There are some nice 
shade trees over by the sideshow tents."

	"Can we stop and feed the animals in the menagerie on the way?" 
the boy asked.

	"Sure."

	Helping the young woman stuff the books and papers into a large 
cloth satchel, the two of them headed outside. Dick led them to the pie 
car, where they loaded up the satchel even further, plus they each 
carried an armload of apples. Almost all of the animals would get 
treats today and Parva would get her promised double portion.

	The menagerie was bustling with activity today, as many of the 
animals were getting baths. Lawrence Geller, the head animal trainer, 
was supervising these procedures and he did not look happy to see Dick 
and Barbara enter bearing their apples.

	"Oh no, Richard!" Geller wailed. "You're going to make all my 
animals fat and lazy. You're spoiling them rotten the way you keep 
feeding them!"

	Lawrence Geller was a tall, powerfully built, ruggedly handsome 
man, with a thick mane of white-blond hair, that made him look like a 
Viking. This image was unfortunately dispelled, however, as soon as he 
spoke. Even despite his heavy German accent, Geller had a rather high-
pitched voice and somewhat effeminate mannerisms. He insisted on always 
addressing Dick as Richard, saying something about Dick being an 
inappropriate moniker for a twelve year old.

	"But they like my treats, Mr. Geller," the boy said cheerfully. 
This was a friendly argument that had been going on for years.

	"Fine! Go ahead and spoil them!" Geller said dramatically. "And 
if they don't want to perform tonight, I'll know who to blame."

	"Oh, you'll be fine, won't you, Ursala?" Dick said to the large, 
black bear as he thrust an apple through the bars of her cage.

	Barbara helped him distribute the booty and they quickly had all 
the animals munching happily on their forbidden treats.

	"Who's that for?" Barbara asked, seeing the lone orange in Dick's 
hand.

	"C'mere, I'll show you," the boy said, taking the older girl's 
hand and leading her to the back of the stables, where Pharnum's freaks 
were kept.

	"Dick, I don't think we're supposed to go near these creatures," 
Barbara said. "Some of them are dangerous."
	 
	"This one's okay," the boy insisted, stopping in front of the 
batman's cage.

	As usual, the creature was huddled in the far corner, watching 
them warily. It eyed the tall, red-haired, young woman with particular 
suspicion.

	"Oh, this cage is much too small for him," Barbara said. "He 
can't even stretch out completely. This is terrible."

	Hearing the concern in her voice, Dick glanced up at her and 
smiled slightly. He knew that Barbara would understand. Every other 
female he had seen look at the creature had only commented on how ugly 
and repulsive it was. None of them had seen the humanity in its eyes. 
They had been oblivious to its suffering, but Barbara had seen and had 
been moved. Dick knew he had done the right thing in sharing this with 
her.

	Turning his attention back to the creature, the boy noticed that 
the water in its dish was filthy. There was even a bug floating in it. 
Dick felt his stomach turn. Mr. Geller would never tolerate dirty water 
for his animals, but Pharnum had his own handlers and they evidently 
didn't care.

	"Your water is disgusting," Dick said to the creature. "Let me 
get you some clean water."

	Reaching cautiously into the cage, he slowly removed the water 
dish. He was careful not to make any sudden movements, knowing that 
some animals were very territorial of their food and water. But the 
creature didn't move, although its eyes followed the boy's every 
movement.

	Dumping the dirty water onto the straw covered, concrete floor, 
Dick took the dish to the watering hose and washed it out. Refilling 
it, he carefully carried it back and placed it back in the cage. 
Remembering the orange he was still carrying, he held it up for the 
creature to see.

	"Oh, yeah, I brought you an orange, too."

	Slipping his hand through the bars, he offered it to the batman. 
Still eyeing Barbara warily, the creature didn't move. As he had the 
day before, Dick set the orange down and backed away.

	"C'mon, Robin," Barbara said after a moment, "it's time to get 
back to your lessons."

~*~*~*~

	Several hours later, found Dick back in the stables. That 
evening's performance had not gone well. Dick had been distracted just 
before he and his family had entered the tent and that distraction had 
nearly cost the boy his life. While performing his famous quadruple 
flip, Dick had lost his focus and had become disoriented in the air. He 
had very nearly missed his father's outstretched hands. The catch had 
been clumsy and the audience had clearly seen that something was amiss. 
The boy could still hear their collective gasp in his ears. 

	To a flyer, that was a humiliating sound. Appreciative "ooh's" 
and "ahh's" were good, even the occasional relieved sigh was 
acceptable, but not gasps. Gasps meant that a mistake had been made. 
And when one worked without a net, even the tiniest of errors could 
prove fatal.

	John had been furious. As soon as the family was back in their 
small train car, he had vented that anger on his son. Dick's face was 
still burning with the shame of his father's words. After five minutes 
of John's tirade, the boy had fled from the car, not even bothering to 
change out of his bright red and green costume.

	Swiping at the hot tears coursing down his cheeks with the heel 
of his palm, the boy sank down on an upturned barrel across from the 
batman's cage. Here, at the back of the stables, he would not be 
visible to anyone casually poking their head in to look for him.

	Startled out of his dark thoughts by the sound of movements, Dick 
looked up to see that the creature had moved to the front of the cage 
and was watching him intently. Perhaps it was the boy's imagination, 
but he thought he saw concern in the clear, blue eyes.

	"I screwed up," Dick explained to the batman. "I almost fell. My 
father's really angry."

	There was, of course, no response from the creature, but it 
continued to listen sympathetically.

	"I hate Marko DiVossi!" the boy exclaimed abruptly. "It was all 
his fault! If he hadn't stopped me before our performance, if he hadn't 
…"

	The boy's voice trailed off as a fresh wave of tears threatened 
to spill forth. Burying his face in his hands, he whispered, " Why 
can't he just leave me alone?"

	Feeling something warm and heavy resting on his shoulder, Dick 
lifted his head to find that the creature had reached one long arm out 
and had laid his large hand on the boy's shoulder. Even despite the 
abundance of coarse, black hair and the sharp claws on that hand, it 
was a comforting gesture and the boy was grateful. The two sat staring 
at each other for several long minutes. 

	"Dick, honey, are you in here?" Mary's voice suddenly called out 
from the doorway.

	For a moment, the boy was silent, still staring at the batman. 
Dick knew that if he remained quiet, his mother would most likely move 
on to keep looking for him, but something in the creature's expressive 
eyes made him change his mind and he answered his mother's call.

	"Yeah, Mom, I'm over here," he said.

	The batman let his hand slip away from the boy's shoulder and he 
silently moved back into the shadows of the far corner of the cage as 
Mary Grayson approached. She stood for a moment, gazing at her son's 
tear-stained face, then knelt down beside the low barrel where he was 
sitting.

	"Honey, I'm not comfortable with you sitting so close to any 
Pharnum's creatures. You shouldn't be here," she said gently.

	"Dad hates me, doesn't he?" the boy asked miserably, ignoring her 
comment.

	"Your father doesn't hate you. It's just that you scared us 
tonight, Robin. You scared us very much. And that's the way that your 
father deals with his fear, by getting angry. The more frightened he 
is, the angrier he appears. And I have never seen him so angry… You 
could have fallen, Robin. What happened up there? I've never seen you 
so careless."

	The boy didn't answer. He just sat staring at his hands, which 
were twisting anxiously in his lap. He knew he needed to tell his 
mother something, but just couldn't seem to come up with an appropriate 
response. He was spared from having to answer right away by the arrival 
of his father, who looked much calmer now.

	"I'm sorry that I came down on you so hard," John said, kneeling 
beside his wife, "but you gave me quite a scare. I shouldn't have 
yelled at you, but what happened? You're usually so focused and sharp."

	"I don't know," the boy mumbled. "I guess I was distracted. I'm 
sorry."

	"You don't have to apologize, but what could possibly have 
distracted you so much that it made you lose your focus in the air?"

	Again, the boy didn't answer, just shrugged lamely, refusing to 
look at his parents. John sighed in disappointment.

	"That's not good enough," he said. "This is not a game. This is 
serious, life and death serious. Now, I need to know what's going on in 
your head."

	There was still no response.

	"Dick," he began gravely, "I will not risk losing you simply for 
the sake of a performance. If you can't convince me, during our next 
practice, that you've got your focus back and that this will not happen 
again, then I will have to ask Mr. Haley to leave the net up during our 
performances."

	"Dad, no!" Dick cried. He and his parents had been performing 
without a net for three years now. It was one of their main claims to 
fame. To have to go back to using it now would seriously hurt their 
credibility. It would be a further humiliation.

	"Please, don't do that!" the boy begged. "I promise, it won't 
happen again. I do understand the seriousness of this and I promise, 
I'll be more careful."

	"Alright, well, we'll see at our next practice." John said. 
"Right now, I think it's time for you to get out of your costume and go 
to bed."

	"Yes sir."

~*~*~*~

	The next day their practice had gone well, Dick had performed 
perfectly. But still hesitant, John said that he would wait to make his 
final decision regarding the net until just before their performance 
that night. He wanted to wait to see how Dick looked right before they 
took the center ring.

	That night, John had stayed close to his son, watching him 
carefully, looking for signs of distraction, but there were none. With 
John constantly close by, Marko didn't even attempt to go near the boy.

	Ten minutes before their performance, the family stood outside 
the rear entrance to the tent, waiting for their call. John stepped up 
to his son and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, looking deeply 
into his blue eyes. To John's relief, he saw nothing to cause him to 
worry. He saw only determination, confidence and unconditional trust. 
Smiling down at the boy, he caressed one cheek. Pop Haley poked his 
head out from the tent flap. He looked at John and gently cleared his 
throat.

	"Well?" he asked when the younger man had looked up at him.

	John nodded, "Take down the net."

	"Are you sure? I don't want you risking Dick just to please the 
crowds."

	"No, it's alright, but thank you anyway."

	This was one of the main reasons John kept his family with the 
Haley Bros.' Circus, despite having had many, much more lucrative 
offers from larger, more prestigious circuses; Haley Bros.' was a 
family. Pop and Harry Haley looked after their performers like they 
looked after their own families. They valued the lives of those 
performers above that of the numbers of the ticket office. While this 
sometimes prevented them from achieving the same success as some of the 
other circuses, it was a trade-off the Haley's gladly took. And it made 
John Grayson, and many others, all the more loyal for it.

	"Alright then, you have five minutes," Haley said, somewhat 
reluctantly. "You be careful now," he added to Dick as he disappeared 
back under the tent flap.

	But the fears of the adults had proven baseless as Dick performed 
flawlessly. To celebrate this, after he had showered and changed, he 
had coaxed a large piece of apple pie from the cook, as well as several 
leftover hot dogs from supper. Taking his spoils, the boy headed for 
the menagerie. Tonight , he would celebrate with the batman. Dick had 
seen Pharnum's men feeding the creature chunks of raw meat, so he was 
reasonably certain that it would eat the hot dogs.

	The large stable was empty and dimly lit. It was late. The 
animals had all been rubbed down, watered and closed up for the night. 
Moving quietly to the back of the building, Dick found the batman awake 
and watchful, as ever.

	"I brought you some hot dogs," the boy said quietly, holding up 
the wax-paper wrapped meat. "They're fresher than that stuff Pharnum's 
men gave you, and it's cooked."

	Slowly, the creature unfolded its long limbs from its cramped 
position at the far corner of the cage and crept forward. Tentatively 
it reached a large hand through the bars and took the food from Dick. 
The boy smiled encouragingly at him.

	"See, I'm alright. I'm not going to hurt you," Dick said.

	The batman took his food and settled himself on the floor of the 
cage to eat. The boy sat on the upturned barrel to eat his apple pie 
and the two enjoyed their treats in companionable silence. The creature 
wolfed down the hot dogs much quicker than Dick had eaten his pie and 
the batman sat watching the young aerialist with open curiosity. The 
boy returned the stare calmly.

	The moment's tranquil silence was abruptly shattered by the sound 
of the big, wooden doors of the stable sliding open. Setting his half-
eaten pie aside, Dick crept over to peer around an empty crate to see 
who had entered. Almost instantly he pulled back out of sight, his face 
suddenly quite pale.

	"It's Marko, damn it," the boy hissed to himself. "I can't get to 
any of the exits without him seeing me. Now what do I do?"

	Noting that Dick's entire demeanor was suddenly, literally 
radiating panic, the batman watched him with interest. Glancing around 
desperately, the boy moved silently over to where several empty water 
barrels had been placed. Dick crouched down behind them. The hiding 
place was not perfect. From his vantage point, off to the side, the 
batman could still see the boy. He was hidden from the view of anyone 
looking over from the center aisle, but if that person moved in for a 
closer look, the boy would become visible.

	After a few tense moments, Marko DiVossi's tall, thin frame came 
into the batman's view as he walked down the center aisle. The man was 
glancing around intently, obviously searching for something, or 
someone. Stopping at the point where he could see down the row where 
the batman's cage was, Marko turned and glanced at the creature. The 
circus performer's sharp eyes continued to roam about and quickly 
spotted the forgotten half-eaten piece of apple pie. He moved closer to 
look at it. A slow smile crept across his face.

	"I thought you'd be here," Marko called out softly, continuing to 
look around him. "Your parents are worried about you. They asked me to 
help them find you… I know you're here, Dicky, so come on out. Don't 
make me come looking for you. We don't have much time and if I have to 
waste it looking for you, I'm going to be very upset… Come out here, 
now, boy!"

	The batman glanced over to where he could still see Dick crouched 
behind the barrels. The boy's eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he 
was biting his lower lip, trembling visibly. Marko was still casting 
about, unable to find the boy, but all he had to do was take another 
few steps down the row and he would see Dick. Watching this, a cold, 
dark anger began swelling within the creature. In response, a deep, low 
growl rumbled up from his chest. Marko turned to look at the creature. 

	"What's your problem, Ugly? Get up on the wrong side of the cage 
this morning?" he sneered.

	The growl became louder and the creature moved closer to the 
bars. Marko took an involuntary step back. With a tremendous snarl the 
batman flung himself at the bars and reached a claw-tipped hand out 
toward Marko's throat. With a gasp, the man stepped back again. 
Glancing around one last time, he quickly left the stable, his heels 
clicking loudly on the concrete floor.

	After a moment, the boy emerged from his hiding place, still pale 
and shaking, but visibly relieved. He moved cautiously to look down the 
center aisle, making sure that the man was gone. Reassured, he went 
back to the cage and sank down on the barrel, burying his face in his 
hands.

	"Whoa, that was close," he mumbled.

	"Why are you so afraid of him?" a deep, raspy voice asked.

	The boy's head jerked up and he glanced around wildly.

	"Who said that?" he called out.

	"I did."

	The boy's eyes fell on the batman, who was watching him intently. 
There was no mistaking the intelligence and compassion within those 
disturbing blue eyes.

	"You can talk?" Dick whispered.

	"Yes."

	"For how long?"

	"I have always been able to talk. I simply choose not to."

	"But why? If you can talk, that proves that you're intelligent. 
You don't belong in a cage! Wait here, I'll get Mr. Haley."

	"No, Dick!" the creature's order froze the boy. "I do belong in a 
cage, but that's my story. You have not answered my question. Why are 
you so afraid of Marko?"

	Dick stood staring at the floor, suddenly very awkward.

	"Answer me, Dick."

	The voice was quiet and gentle, but it carried all the weight of 
a shouted command. There was no way the boy could disobey it.

	"He touches me," Dick whispered.

	"Touches you?"

	"Yes, he touches me … in places where he shouldn't."

	"I see … have you told anyone?"

	"No!" the boy cried. "How could I tell anyone something like 
that? They'd think that I…"

	"Dick, you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't ask for this and 
you didn't encourage it."

	"Marko says I do," the boy whispered, silent tears beginning to 
slide down his cheeks. "He says that deep down, I really do want it."

	"He's saying that to make you feel guilty, to keep you quiet. And 
you're letting him do it. You're letting him get away with it. You have 
to tell someone."

	"I can't."

	"Surely you can tell your parents. They seem like good people."

	"You heard what my father's like when he gets upset. Besides, I 
can't do that to them. I'm all they have and they want me to be 
perfect. It would destroy them. I can't tell them."

	"I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

	"I don't care. I'm not telling them."

	"Alright, alright… What about that girl you were here with the 
other day? She seemed mature enough to handle it."

	"Barbara? There is no way I'm going to tell Barbara!"

	"Okay, how about Mr. Haley?"

	"He's like my grandfather! I can't tell him!"

	"Dick, you need to tell someone. It's the only way this is going 
to stop."

	"I told you," the boy said softly.

	"Yes, but there's nothing I can do about it. No one would believe 
me if I told them. Besides, no one must know that I can talk. Do you 
understand me, Dick? You mustn't tell anyone about that."

	"Why not? Why is it alright for you to have secrets, but not me?"

	"This is different. I deserve my prison, you do not."

	"I don't understand. No one deserves to be put in a cage and 
treated like an animal."

	"I do."

	"Why?"

	The creature sighed heavily and closed his eyes, as though he 
were steeling himself to confront these memories. As if they were 
physically painful for him.

	"My name is Bruce Wayne," he began softly. "I didn't always look 
like this. I was once a happy, healthy, normal man, just like everyone 
else. I was born and raised here in Gotham City. My family was very 
wealthy. My parents were loving. I wanted for nothing. My life was 
truly blessed. But it all ended on my eighth birthday.

	"My family and I had gone to the cinema for my birthday. After we 
had left the theater and were walking down an alley toward the 
trolleys, a man with a gun stepped out of the shadows and demanded that 
my mother hand over her pearl necklace. When she didn't move fast 
enough, he shot her, then shot my father. Panicking, the mugger ran 
away. He didn't even take the necklace with him. So, my parents died 
for nothing."

	"God, that's terrible," Dick whispered.

	"Yes. I became obsessed with getting revenge on that mugger. I 
remembered his face and I wouldn't allow myself to forget it. I spent 
many years preparing myself physically to make myself into some sort of 
instrument of justice, of vengeance. 

	"I also prepared my mind. I studied every form of science there 
is and I began experimenting with chemicals. I wanted to create a 
formula that would make me stronger, faster, invincible. After many 
tries, I succeeded. Of course, the formula had side effects. As you can 
see, it caused my body to mutate. But I didn't care. All that mattered 
to me was my vengeance.

	"So, many years after the crime, I finally tracked down the man 
who had murdered my parents. I was now a grown man and he was a very 
old one. And yet, despite all the years and changes I had undergone, he 
remembered me. He said that he had always known that one day I'd come 
and he was just waiting for me. He was quite calm."

	"What did you do?" Dick asked, wide-eyed.

	"I killed him. I ripped his throat out with my teeth and stood 
back to watch his life bleed away. So, you see, Dick, I do belong in 
this cage. I do deserve to be treated like an animal. I lived only for 
revenge and I lost sight of my humanity. I became the creature you see 
before you. I am an animal, the worst possible kind, a man-eater. In 
most countries, such animals are hunted down and killed."

	The boy was silent for a long moment, staring at the floor.

	"I will understand if you no longer wish to be my friend," Wayne 
said sadly. "But I must ask that you not repeat this story to anyone. 
This is my penance. I accept it."

	Without a word, the boy stood and moved to kneel beside the cage. 
He reached his hand through the bars and placed it on top of the 
batman's.

	"I don't care what you say. Your eyes tell me that you're a good 
man. I trust you, with my life," Dick said.

	With a soft sigh, Wayne reached one of his own hands out and 
gently brushed the boy's heavy fall of dark hair away from his eyes.

	"Hey, Dicky, are you in here?" a feminine voice abruptly called 
from the front of the stable. It was Barbara Gordon. "Everyone's 
looking for you."

	"Go on, answer your friend," Wayne whispered. "It's late and you 
should be in bed."

	"I'm over here, Babs!" the boy called out, starting to get to his 
feet.

	"Tell her about Marko," Wayne added hastily.

	"I'll think about it," Dick said as he moved off to join the tall 
red-head.

~*~*~*~

	Dick stood in the shadows of the bleachers, just inside the rear 
entrance to the big top, watching the showgirls perform their routine. 
He and his parents would not be on for another hour, so he had some 
time to kill. It was another sweltering Saturday afternoon and it was 
somewhat cooler here under the shade of the huge tent.

	The boy easily spotted Barbara Gordon, as she was by far the most 
graceful of the twenty girls. That, and her bright red hair stood out 
quite plainly under the spotlights. Dick loved to watch Barbara 
perform. She always made the more difficult moves look effortless, 
while still managing to make even the most simple ones look impressive. 
Once again he prayed that she would be the one his parents picked to 
apprentice.  Her precision, grace and strength were precisely the 
qualities needed for the trapeze. 

	So caught up in the beauty of the spectacle before him, Dick 
didn't notice Marko slip into the tent silently behind him. The boy was 
blissfully unaware of the man's presence until he pressed himself 
rudely up against the boy and began stroking his thigh. Immediately 
Dick started trying to squirm away, but Marko tightened his hold and 
the boy's struggles only resulted in creating the precise friction the 
man had desired. Hearing Marko's ragged breathing in his ear, Dick 
realized his error and stilled his movements. Unfortunately this left 
the man's hands free to roam. It was a deliberate no-win situation.

	"Your ugly friend's not around this time, is he?" Marko whispered 
harshly.

	For the past couple of days, Dick had been spending almost all of 
his free time with the batman, who had begun watching the boy's back. 
Whenever Marko came around and got too close to Dick, Bruce would start 
growling and making threatening gestures and Marko would quickly leave.

	But the batman was off in the House of Horrors right now and 
standing in the shadows like they were, no one could easily see them. 
Dick's parents would likely not come looking for him for another half 
hour. The next act to take the center ring was already in place ready 
to step up when the showgirls finished and the showgirls would exit 
through the flap on the other end of the tent. It was unlikely that 
anyone would be using this entrance for, at least, another twenty 
minutes, plenty of time for Marko to have his fun. 

	Just when Dick was starting to feel completely lost, the tent 
flap off to their right opened and a tall, burly figure stepped from 
the dazzling sunlight outside into the darkness of the big top. James 
Gordon, the head of the circus' security had come to watch his daughter 
perform as well.

	"Mr. Gordon!" Dick called out as the large man passed by, but had 
not noticed them in the shadows.

	The noise from the crowd drowned out the boy's voice and Gordon 
had not turned around, but the threat of discovery had been enough to 
send Marko quickly scuttling from the tent. Dick heaved a sigh of 
relief and stood for a moment watching Gordon's back. The sometimes, 
gruff man was always very kind and gentle with Dick and had always 
shown himself to be a wonderful father to Barbara, maybe the boy could 
tell him about his troubles with Marko. Dick would certainly think 
about it.

	Later that afternoon, the boy had a couple of hours to amuse 
himself between shows. He wandered over to the sideshow tents, which 
were open throughout the day, to get a glimpse of the batman. The boy 
discovered that for the time being, Bruce had been moved out of the 
House of Horrors tent, to the rear, where he would be screened from the 
view of non-paying customers. None of the carnies who sat nearby 
smoking cigarettes and playing dice paid any attention to the boy. They 
were now accustomed to his presence by the creature's cage.

	"Hi," the boy said softly as he approached the cage. "So, they 
gave you a break, huh? That was nice of Pharnum."

	"I don't think niceness had anything to do with it," Bruce 
whispered, moving closer to Dick. "The tent's not big enough for all of 
us 'horrors', so he rotates us in and out. I've probably got about 
fifteen minutes before I'll be moved back inside."

	"Oh. Well, at least you get a little fresh air."

	"Yeah."

	Distracted, Bruce's eyes darted over the boy's shoulder and 
narrowed.

	"Marko's headed this way," he breathed, barely moving his lips.

	Dick tensed, but did not turn to look at the man, hoping that 
perhaps Marko wouldn't notice him and would keep walking. But, of 
course, that hope was in vain. Marko strode up briskly and grabbed the 
boy's arm, spinning him around to look into his face.

	"I thought I'd find you here," the man snarled, obviously still 
very angry at having been thwarted earlier. "Let's go for a walk."

	"No!" Dick snapped grabbing a bar of the cage with his free hand, 
to prevent the larger man from pulling him away.

	"Don't piss me off any more than I already am, boy! I might have 
to hurt you."

	Twisting the boy's arm behind his back, Marko pulled up on it 
painfully.

	"Keep your mouth shut and do as you're told or I'll break it," he 
sneered. "It'll be awfully hard to fly with a broken wing, little 
Robin!"

	With a ferocious snarl, the batman reached out and grabbed the 
back of Marko's neck , slamming the man's head back against the bars 
and holding it there.  The claws of that hand began digging into the 
exposed flesh and the man gave a strangled scream, frantically trying 
to free himself from the creature's murderous clutches. 

	Marko's screams drew the attention of the nearby carnies, who 
quickly rushed forward to help him. The four men tried to grab the 
creature through the bars, but somehow it was able to fend them all off 
using its legs and one free arm. Its death grip on Marko's throat 
remained unbreakable. The fact that Dick was doing his best to pull the 
carnies off was not helping matters either.
 
	Dimly, as if from far away, Dick heard a woman scream. The carny 
that the boy was holding onto had reached the limits of his patience 
and the burly man turned and backhanded the young aerialist. Dick hit 
the ground hard, his head spinning and bleeding from a split lip. 
Blearily, he looked up to see Barnabus Pharnum approaching carrying a 
tranquilizer gun. 

Before the boy could even try to stop him, the tall man raised 
the gun and fired. The first dart hit one of the struggling carnies and 
the man slumped slowly to the ground. Swearing, Pharnum was already 
loading another dart into the gun. The second one did hit the creature, 
in the thigh, but did little to stop him. The third struck high on the 
shoulder and finally the batman slowed, gradually going down. But even 
unconscious, the creature did not release Marko. It still took the 
remaining three carnies to pry the clutching fingers from the man's 
throat. 

Marko collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and massaging his 
badly bruised and scratched neck. People were arriving from all 
directions, asking questions and demanding answers. Dick tried to crawl 
over to his fallen friend, but a pair of strong arms snatched him 
quickly back. 

"No! Let me go! I have to help him!" Dick yelled, flailing 
frantically, trying to get away from the arms holding him.

"Dick, calm down! It's alright, its me."

Stilling his movement, the boy turned to find Pops Haley kneeling 
beside him, holding him tightly to his broad body.  The man's round 
face clearly showed his concern.

"The creature's alright. He's only been drugged," the ringmaster 
said. "He'll be fine. But look at you, you're a mess."

Reaching into his pocket and producing a handkerchief, Haley 
lightly dabbed the boy's face with it. When he brought his hand back 
into the boy's view, the cloth had a fair amount of blood on it. Dick's 
head began pounding even harder and he felt distinctly nauseous. He 
moaned softly and turned his face away.

"Oh dear, let's get you back to your parents," Haley said, 
scooping the boy up into his arms and getting to his feet.

The large man was just turning to head back towards the train 
cars, when the very people he was looking to find came rushing up to 
see what was happening. Spying her son in Haley's arms, Mary gasped and 
grabbed her husband's arm. The couple ran to the circus owner's side.

"Oh, my Lord, what happened?" Mary demanded, taking Dick's face 
in her hands to check his injuries.

"Apparently that bat creature went berserk, tried to kill Marko 
DiVossi. Unfortunately Dick was standing nearby. He must have gotten 
clipped by that thing as well."

"No," Dick protested weakly. "He wouldn't hurt me. He w-."

"Hush, little Robin," Mary cooed softly. "Not now, we'll talk 
about this later. Right now, let's get you into bed."

"I'll go and fetch Gramma Lilya," John said. "We'll meet you back 
at our car."

"No, I'm okay, I don't need Gramma Lilya," the boy protested, 
trying to squirm out of Haley's arms. 

"Dick, listen to me," John said firmly, gazing at his son 
intently. "You're hurt. Now Mr. Haley is going to take you back to our 
car. You will do as you're told and you will not give Mr. Haley or your 
mother any trouble, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

~*~*~*~

	Dick was lying in his bed in his parents' train car, staring up 
at the ceiling above his head. A half hour earlier, Gramma Lilya had 
come and looked him over. She had given him a cup of bitter-tasting tea 
to drink then sent him up to his bed and drew the curtains closed. 
Although they were speaking softly, the boy could still hear her 
talking to his parents and Mr. Haley. 

	"He's alright," Lilya was saying. "I don't think there is a 
concussion, but all the same I think he should stay in bed for the rest 
of the night."

	"So, you don't think he should perform tonight?" John asked.

	"No, definitely not. He seems to have some dizziness." 

	"What about the act then?"

	After a moment's thought, Haley said, "What about Tito Petritch? 
He's done some trapeze work in the past."

	"Yeah, we'll need to use the big top to get as much practice in 
as we can before tonight's performance and we'll have to leave the net 
up," John said.

	"We'll definitely leave the net up," Haley said firmly. "I'll go 
and find Tito. Why don't you two meet us at the big top in fifteen 
minutes."

	"I don't know about this, John," Mary said after Haley had gone. 
"I don't want to leave Dick alone."

	"Don't worry, I'll stay with the chavy (child)," Lilya said.

	"Thank you, Lilya."

	After a few moments, Dick heard his parents leave the car. 
Rolling over onto his side, he pushed the curtain back. Gramma Lilya 
was seated at the small dining table, stitching a sachet bag. These 
small cloth bags would be filled with various aromatic herbs and 
flowers. Lilya sold them to the gadje at her fortune telling booth. 
Depending on the mixture of plants, the bags were supposed to attract 
luck, love, happiness, money, etc. 

	"Gramma, what's going to happen to the batman?" the boy asked.

	"That is not your concern, Chavy. That will be up to Mr. Pharnum 
and if the man has any sense at all, he will put that creature down. It 
is dangerous."

	"No, he's not!"

	"Chavy, he hurt you and he tried to kill Marko."

	"He didn't hurt me and Marko deserved it. He was teasing the 
creature."

	"Marko deserved it? What causes such harsh words?"

	"Nothing," the boy said quickly.

	Setting her stitching aside the older woman stood and moved 
closer to the bed, standing eye to eye with the boy. 

	"Is there something you would like to tell me, little Robin?"

	Dick returned her stare for a long moment. Could he tell her his 
secret? Would she believe him? She had a great deal of influence within 
the circus' Romany community. She could see to it that Marko was 
punished. But would she? When he first joined the Haley Bros.', Marko 
had been careful to ingratiate himself with the elders of the 
community. Would they listen to the boy's accusations? Such 
transgressions carried fairly serious consequences.

	"No ma'am," the boy whispered.

	The woman continued to watch him for a moment, as though trying 
to read his thoughts. 

	"Very well. Go to sleep, little Robin. Everything will look 
brighter in the morning."

	Perhaps he had taken a harder knock on the head than he thought, 
or perhaps it had something to do with the tea that Gramma Lilya had 
given him to drink earlier, but although the boy had not wanted to go 
to sleep, nor had felt particularly tired, he soon fell into a deep, 
but fitful slumber. His dreams were filled with disturbing images of 
bats with broken wings, blood, and Marko's distorted face leering above 
him, laughing.  

	Dick awoke with a start, sweaty and breathing heavily. Drawing 
the curtains to his bed back, he saw that the little train car was dark 
and quiet. From the soft sound of his father's light snores, the boy 
could tell that his parents had returned and Gramma Lilya must have 
left. He had evidently slept through the late afternoon and well into 
the night. It must be quite late now.  

	Still feeling a little foggy, the boy was considering rolling 
over and going back to sleep, but a sudden, strong urge to check on the 
batman came over him. Most everyone would be asleep at this hour, so no 
one would try to stop him. He could just quickly check and make sure 
that the creature was all right and then return to his bed. His parents 
would never be the wiser.

	Climbing silently out of his bed, Dick slipped his feet into a 
pair of worn, canvas sneakers.  As the night was still fairly warm, the 
boy didn't bother pulling on a robe or jacket over his light, cotton 
pajamas. Grabbing the flashlight out of the drawer in the kitchen area 
where it was kept, Dick headed out of the train car, carefully closing 
the door behind him.

	Easily evading the night watchmen who patrolled the circus 
grounds, the boy quickly arrived at the menagerie. A few of the more 
nocturnal animals could be heard rustling around in their cages, but 
otherwise it was as dark and quiet as the rest of the grounds. Moving 
directly to the back of the stables, Dick found the batman clumsily 
trying to get to his hands and knees. He was obviously just coming out 
of his sedation and was still quite groggy.

	"Hey, Bruce, are you okay?" the boy called in a loud whisper.

	"Dick?" the creature breathed, trying to force his eyes to focus.

	"Yeah, I'm right here," the boy said, reaching one hand through 
the bars toward the creature.

	The batman reached out awkwardly and clasped Dick's hand and for 
a moment seemed to draw strength from the contact, but a sudden, small 
burst of light to the right of the batman's cage, drew their attention 
and the two turned to find Marko. The man was using the match he had 
just struck to light the kerosene lamp that he had brought with him. He 
tuned to face the boy and the creature with a smug smile on his thin 
face.

	"Yes, I thought you'd come here eventually," the man said, 
addressing Dick. "I knew it was just a matter of waiting for you."

	The boy felt a tremendous surge of satisfaction in seeing the 
dark bruises and painful-looking welts on the man's throat. There was 
something about seeing that the man was indeed human and could be hurt 
that made Dick feel stronger. For so long, he had thought of the man as 
some kind of indestructible monster. But now, Marko suddenly looked 
cowardly and pathetic. Dick found that for the first time in his life, 
he felt no fear while gazing at this man.

	"Go away, Marko," the boy said. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

	"Oh, really?"

	While it was a major breakthrough for the boy to overcome his 
fear of his tormentor, what Dick was forgetting was that however 
cowardly and weak-willed Marko was, he was still physically bigger and 
stronger than Dick, and therefore still dangerous. The boy might have 
overcome his fear, but he still had to overcome the man.

	"I don't know what you're feeling so cocky about," Marko 
continued, walking slowly towards the boy. "Your friend there doesn't 
appear to be in any condition to offer you any help."

	Indeed, the batman seemed to be having trouble simply focusing on 
Marko. The creature was blinking rapidly and occasionally shook his 
head, as though trying to clear it. The boy felt his confidence begin 
to waver slightly, but he pushed his unease aside and stood to face the 
taller man. 

	"I don't need his help," Dick said. "You're nothing but a bully 
and you don't scare me."

	"Is that so? Well, bully or not, I'm still bigger than you."

	Stepping quickly forward, Marko grabbed the boy's upper arm and 
jerked him closer. 

	"No one's around to save you this time, little Robin," Marko 
sneered, pressing his face in close.

	Dick hated it when Marko used that nickname. Somehow his tone 
always made the name sound weak and silly. It was just one more 
cherished connection to the boy's innocence and childhood that the man 
tainted with his every breath. Anger flashed through Dick's mind, 
galvanizing him into action. Lashing out, he kicked Marko in the shin 
as hard as he could. As the man released him to reflexively clutch at 
his leg, the boy darted away, heading for the stable doors. He had 
almost made it out into the warm evening air, when Marko's voice called 
out to him.

	"Aren't you forgetting about someone? Your friend's still here, 
all alone and trapped inside this cage."

	The boy stopped and turned around. In the glow of the lantern, 
Dick could just make out Marko standing beside the batman's cage. He 
was holding the lamp very close to the bars.

	"There's an awful lot of straw in there," Marko continued. "If I 
were to 'accidentally' drop this lamp in there, I don't think it would 
take very long to go up in flames, do you? Most of the cage is made of 
wood, but the bars are made of iron, so they wouldn't burn, would they? 
So, there he'd be, trapped and completely helpless. I wonder which 
would kill him first, the flames or the smoke? Shall we find out?"

	"Leave him alone!" Dick said, walking slowly back toward the 
cage.

	Glancing at the batman, the boy saw him shake his head slightly, 
his eyes pleading with Dick to run away. The boy ignored him and kept 
walking. When he was once again within arm's reach, Marko backhanded 
him.

	"Don't you ever do that again!" the man shouted.

	Bleeding once again from the reopened split in his lip, Dick 
glared at the man, hatred plain on his face. He climbed slowly back to 
his feet, never taking his eyes off Marko.

	"Don't look at me like that either," the man snapped, striking 
the boy again.

	His head still reeling from the two previous blows, Dick stumbled 
and fell into one of the other cages. His head connected with one of 
the iron bars, drawing more blood. He lay in a heap on the straw-
covered floor, his world spinning violently.

	"Get up!" Marko demanded. "I said, get up!"

	When the boy made no attempt to rise, the man bent impatiently 
and grabbed one arm, dragging him to his feet. Still stunned and 
disoriented, Dick could barely stand.  Marko had to hang onto the front 
of the boy's pajama shirt to keep him upright. After a moment or two, 
Dick's faculties returned enough for him to comprehend his situation 
and he began weakly trying to squirm away from the larger man.

	Struggling with the boy to try and keep him under control, the 
man's attention was focused solely on Dick. Marko was oblivious to the 
batman, who was rapidly recovering from his sedation. As his head 
cleared, his anger rose and now he had reached that breaking point 
where something had to give. Unfortunately for Marko, what gave were 
the iron bars of the cage. Bending them far enough apart to allow him 
to slip free, the creature climbed through and straightened himself up 
to his full 6'4" height. Sensing something behind him, Marko turned to 
find a wall of hair and muscle towering above him. 

	"Let the boy go," a soft, dangerous voice rasped.

	Suddenly numb with fear, Marko released Dick, who slumped to the 
floor semi-conscious. The huge, hairy fist descended upon the circus 
performer from out of the darkness, so fast that he had no time to 
react. He felt his head snap to the side and excruciating pain exploded 
within his jaw. The man stumbled back several steps, reeling drunkenly 
from the blow. With a tremendous snarl, the creature lashed out with 
its claws, opening five parallel gashes across Marko's chest. While 
these cuts were not particularly deep, they bled freely.

	Panting heavily in its fury, the creature took another step 
closer to the man. Frightened beyond rational thought, Marko screamed 
and fled from the stable. Stumbling out onto the circus grounds, he 
headed for Haley's train car. 

	Pounding loudly on the door to the car, Marko called out, "Pops! 
Pops, quick, I need your help! Get up! Quick!"

	Hearing faint thumps and rustling noises, he heard a voice 
answer, "Just a minute! Hang on, I'm coming!"

	After a few tense moments, the door to the car opened and Pops 
Haley's enormous body was filling the doorframe. The circus owner had 
hastily pulled on a pair of pants and his boots and he stood blinking 
groggily at the performer.

	"Marko, what the hell's going on?" Haley asked. Then noticing the 
bloody gashes, he gasped, "Jesus, man, what the hell happened to you?"

	"It's that bat creature again!" Marko cried, his voice abnormally 
high and verging on hysteria. "It's gone berserk again! It tried to 
kill me! Look what it did to me!"

	"Alright, alright," Haley said, trying to calm the man down, "let 
me send for the doctor or Gramma Lilya."

	"No, there's no time! The Grayson kid is still in the stables 
with that thing. The creature tried to kill him. I tried to help the 
boy, but then the thing turned on me. It may be too late already. That 
thing could have killed him by now!"

	"Oh, Jesus, no," Haley moaned.

	Grabbing Marko's arm, Haley pulled the man along with him as he 
started off toward the stables at a jog. They had gotten about half way 
to the menagerie when they encountered John and Mary Grayson. Both 
trapeze artists appeared to have just been roused from bed. John was 
wearing only his pajama pants and an undershirt and Mary had her 
dressing gown wrapped around her. 

	"Pops, Marko, have either of you seen Dick? We woke up and found 
that he wasn't in our car," John said as the couple approached.

	"Oh, my Lord! Marko, what happened to you?" Mary gasped as the 
two men drew closer to the light of her lantern.

	"That bat creature attacked him again. He says that Dick's still 
in the stable with it," Haley hastily explained.

	With another gasp, Mary turned and buried her face in his 
husband's shoulder. John held his wife tight and stroked her back 
soothingly, but gazed at Haley with a grim expression. John gave a curt 
nod and the four continued on to the stables. They arrived at the 
squat, wooden building just as the creature was emerging. It was 
carrying Dick in its arms. The boy's pajamas were torn and his face was 
bloody. He appeared to be unconscious. The creature hesitated as it 
spied the approaching adults and stood obviously unsure of what to do.

	"Dick…," John whispered, starting to move toward his son.

	Haley grabbed the younger man's arm and pulled him back. 

	"John, no! We don't want to spook it. We don't know what it will 
do to the boy. Marko, go and get the gun from my car."

	"Yes sir," the man said as he turned and sprinted back toward the 
train cars.

	As the four beings stood watching each other warily, more people 
began turning up to join the stand-off. Harry Haley, who had been 
roused by the noise of Marko waking Pops, was one of the first to 
arrive. He moved to stand beside his brother and the Graysons, who 
informed him of the situation. 

Seeing the hostile crowd rapidly growing in front of him, the 
creature took a few nervous steps back. Moving slowly, the batman 
crouched down to lay the boy on the ground. Standing, it held its hands 
out in front of its body in a gesture of surrender and stepped away 
from the child. 

"Dick…," Mary breathed as she surged forward to run to her son's 
side.

"Mary!" John cried out. He moved quickly to join her, to protect 
his wife and son from the creature, if necessary. 

But the creature made no threatening movements. It just stood 
watching the small family. As John approached the batman warily, he 
noticed for the first time that its eyes were blue and that buried 
within those orbs, beneath those bushy, black eyebrows, there was 
intelligence and emotion. The aerialist found himself completely at a 
loss.

Kneeling on the ground at her husband's feet and oblivious to 
everything but her son, Mary was cradling the boy to her breast 
desperately trying to wake him. She was cooing soft words of 
encouragement, while using the sash of her robe to try to wipe the 
blood away from his face. Her efforts were rewarded as the boy's 
eyelids began to flutter and slowly opened.

"Mom?" Dick whispered weakly.

"Yes, Baby, I'm right here," Mary sobbed with relief, hugging him 
tighter.

Seeing that his son was awake, John turned away from the creature 
and moved to kneel beside his family. He had no more than settled 
himself down, when he became aware of a deep rumbling sound. Turning to 
look up at the creature, he realized that it was growling. Shifting his 
gaze to see what the batman was staring at, John saw Marko running up 
with Haley's rifle. Time seemed to slow down and reality was suddenly 
sluggish and heavy. John started to raise his hand to signal to Marko 
that the gun would not be needed, that everything was all right, but 
the other performer never even looked at him, never slowed his steps, 
and never hesitated. He just raised the rifle to his shoulder and 
fired.

"No!"

Dick's anguished scream was the only sound John heard as he 
watched the creature fall, a deadly bloom of blood blossoming across 
its chest. Still too numb to react, John did nothing as Dick squirmed 
away from an equally stunned Mary and crawled to the batman's side. The 
boy lifted the creature's head and cradled it in his lap.

"Don't die, please don't die," the boy whispered between his 
sobs.

The batman weakly raised one claw-tipped hand to tenderly caress 
Dick's bruised face.

"It's all right," the creature whispered. "It's better this way. 
My penance is over. Please don't grieve too much for me. I'm not worth 
it."

"Don't say that! You're my friend!"

"Thank you… You know, if I had had a son, I would have wanted him 
to be just like you… Tell my story, Dick. Tell both of our stories. 
People need to know so that these things can't happen again. Don't let 
others make the same mistakes…"

With a soft sigh, Bruce Wayne's brilliant blue eyes dimmed and he 
lay still in the boy's arms. Dick bowed his head over his friend's 
body, his small shoulders shaking with his grief. John and Mary Grayson 
sat helpless, unable to fully grasp or comfort their son's shattered 
emotions. They were still trying to cope with the realization that the 
being they had thought of as only a brute animal was, in fact, 
intelligent and could talk, and was now dead. 

With all signs of danger past, the gathered onlookers began to 
close in on the family, curious about the boy's reaction and wanting a 
look at the creature. Both Haley brothers looked sad and remoseful. 
Pops had taken his rifle back from Marko, who was looking darkly 
pleased with himself. Glancing up at him, Dick felt his anger surge.

"Murderer!" the boy yelled at the man. "You killed him! You 
Bastard!"

Marko took a small step back, startled at the venom in Dick's 
tone.

"Dick, Son, the … creature was … he was dangerous," Haley said 
softly, hesitantly, as though he wasn't entirely certain of this 
assertion. "He attacked you and Marko."

"No, he didn't! Marko attacked me! Bruce was defending me."

"Bruce…?" Haley mumbled.

"What do you mean Marko attacked you?" John asked quickly. "Why 
would he do that?"

"Because I wouldn't let him touch me anymore."

"Touch you? How was he touching you?"

"Whenever there was no one around, he would touch me… in places 
where he's not supposed to."

"Marko?" John whispered dangerously, turning to the other man.

"John, come on, I would never do anything like that. The kid's 
lying," Marko said, trying to laugh.

"I am not!"

"You sick, son of a bitch! You touched my son?" John shouted, 
rising to his feet and starting towards the other man. "I should rip 
your heart out!"

"John, take it easy! Settle down!" Pops Haley said, grabbing the 
younger man and holding him back. 

Dick watched his father struggling with Haley, trying to reach 
for Marko, who was still vehemently denying the accusation. This only 
angered John further and his fury was rapidly approaching homicidal 
levels. The boy remembered Bruce telling him about his own desires for 
vengeance, about how he had lost touch with his humanity. Dick could 
not allow that to happen to his father. Getting to his feet, the boy 
went to stand directly in front of his father, forcing John to look at 
him.

"Dad, stop it!" Dick yelled. "It's okay! I'm all right! It's 
over. He's not worth it. Bruce became that creature because he couldn't 
let go of his desire for revenge. I won't let that happen to you. And 
definitely not because of some two-bit bully like Marko DiVossi."

Gazing at his son, the rage seemed to drain out of John's body 
and he let himself relax. Feeling this change, Haley release the 
younger man, who knelt down before his son and hugged the boy tight. 

"Come on, Marko, let's go," Haley said, stepping over to the 
other performer.

"Where are we going?" the man said, backing slowly away from the 
owner.

"We're going to the office. I'm calling the police."

"Oh, no! I'm not going to jail because of some ugly freak and a 
loud-mouthed kid! No way, I'm outta here!"

Turning on his heel, Marko sprinted off into the darkness.

~*~*~*~

	Late the next morning, Dick and his family were seated at their 
small dining table eating breakfast. The three had slept in late after 
spending a good portion of the night talking. They had talked about 
Dick's experience, his reasons for not telling anyone, including John's 
temper, and they had agreed to deal with these things as a family. Dick 
had also told his parents about his friend, Bruce Wayne. John and Mary 
had done their best to help their son deal with his first real 
experience with death.

	A light knock on the door interrupted the family's peaceful meal. 
John called out for whoever it was to enter and the door swung open to 
admit James Gordon. The burly security chief stepped inside, excusing 
himself for intruding. 

	"I just stopped by to tell you that I heard from the Gotham City 
Police," Gordon said. "They caught Marko DiVossi. He was trying to book 
passage on a ship back to Europe. The police will send a couple of 
officers by later to talk to Dick."

	Turning to address the boy directly, the large man said, "Son, I 
know this is going to be difficult, but do you think you could tell 
these officers about what Marko was doing to you?"

	"Yes sir."

	"Now, I want you to understand, there's probably going to be a 
trial. You'll have to get up and tell your story again in a courtroom, 
in front of a lot of strangers. There'll be a judge, a jury of twelve 
people, two lawyers and a few various court officials. Your parents 
will be there too, but they won't be able to sit with you while you're 
talking. Are you going to be able to do that?"

	The boy thought for a moment before answering, "Yes sir, I can do 
it."

	"Good man. You're a very brave young man and I'm very proud of 
you. I'm sure your parents are too. You've had to learn some hard 
lessons very early in life. Some of the worst monsters in this world 
aren't in cages and they don't always have claws or fangs to make them 
readily identifiable."

***

~END~