Bruce didn't like working cases that involved kids but he couldn't exactly turn a blind eye to this one. A month ago, a circus came into town. For some unknown reason, Alfred insisted he go to it. Show his face in public and pretend he wasn't wallowing alone in his luxury penthouse. He only agreed to it on the condition he wouldn't have to go to the next charity ball he was invited to. 

The show ended with the deaths of its headliner. The Flying Graysons plummeted to the ground right in front of their son who was stuck on the platform for the better part of an hour before finally being brought down. Bruce had stayed, he didn't know why, but he did. He watched the ambulance crew pronounce them dead although everybody already knew that before carting them away in body bags ready for a medical examiner to rule out any other cause than an accident. Police swarmed the scene, getting accounts from anyone who stayed alongside him. He tried his best to be helpful.

Then he overheard the now orphaned child say something to the ringmaster. 

"It was that man, Mr Haley! That man did this." Before he could eavesdrop any further, Haley was bringing him into one of their caravans to grieve in peace. Bruce knew this was no accident and he silently swore that he wouldn't let another orphan go on without justice. Not after what it did to him.

So Bruce got to work, gathering police reports when he noticed nobody had even bothered to interview Dick Grayson. Eyewitnesses said the wire snapped and they just took that at face value without thinking much about it. Chalked it up to faulty equipment but Bruce knew better. What circus whose stars were their money makers, some of the most talented acrobats in the world, wouldn't ensure their equipment was sound? Where was the sense in that? Then there was what Dick said. Someone had done this and if he wanted to know, he needed to talk to Haley and Dick. Unfortunately, the circus moved on quickly before he could think to talk to them. It'd been their last show in Gotham the night of the tragedy and not many would think of sticking around if there was no investigation going on.

Fortunately, through some digging, he found out Dick didn't stay with them. Without his parents putting a guardian in their will, he became a ward of the state and was forced to remain in Gotham. Digging further told him that Dick wasn't placed in an orphanage. Most of the state's orphanages and all of the private ones were filled up. They didn't have room for a kid who wasn't from the city and nobody wanted the bad press for denying a Gotham City kid a place over a child who had never been there before his circus came to town. 

Bruce thought he'd be placed into foster care instead but no records showed any family taking him in so he double-checked the orphanages to confirm that there was indeed no record of him being there. On a whim, he checked missing persons. Nothing. Then, as a hail mary, he checked the juvenile detention centre. A little kid left alone in a big city right after his parent's deaths would bring anyone to a life of crime. Sure enough, there he was. The only thing Bruce couldn't understand was why the date of his arrival was the day after his parents died. 

Orphanages full, no foster family involved, well. Where else would they put him. Bruce needed to speak to him and get him the hell out of there. Batman needed to pay a visit.

They were apprehensive to let Batman in but with some convincing and being generally ominous, they allowed it. He was greeted by a guard who introduced themselves as Robinson and nothing more. They wouldn't allow him to leave the detention centre with Dick Grayson but they would allow him to have as long as he needed to in his cell to get what he wanted. Robinson would have to wait outside but she happily encouraged him to take his time since she was paid by the hour either way. 

As they walked through the halls, he noticed that they weren't stopping at any of the cells and kept passing them with no sign of stopping. 

"Where is he?" Batman asked. Robinson jumped slightly since he hadn't spoken all that much before and laughed it off uneasily.

"Solitary. Your kid is a prime target, they steal his food and rough him up when he's in shared cells. He'd been nice about it for a while, not engaging and reporting anything he saw. Then he got labeled a snitch and they didn't let him eat for another week. Well, anyone would lose their patience. Beat the shit out of that one," she explained, pointing to one of the boys. He had a black eye and a cut across his eyebrow. "Hit him with his food tray. Little shit deserved it but we have rules here."

"He's not a prisoner here."

"No, but the rules still apply to him. Better he be alone anyway. You should've seen the fight, he's got some right hook for a tiny circus kid. I hear some of the older boys have some plans for him. Be a shame if he got mixed up with the wrong crowd." Batman nodded. He wanted to ask why they didn't step in earlier if they noticed he wasn't able to eat but he knew he'd get a response filled with legal jargon neither of them believed so he kept quiet. 

They continued on to solitary where behind each door a child was hurling abuse at them. He could understand why. Children weren't meant to be locked up on their own and in any other setting this would be a sign of neglect but here, it was fine. The only door that housed a silent child was Dick's. Robinson unlocked the door and entered the room without any fear. Inside, Dick wore a jumpsuit two sizes too big and he stood with his back against the wall per the rules here when a guard entered your cell. He was tiny and his blue eyes were piercing as they slowly dragged themselves from the floor to the pair in front of him. 

"Richard, this is Batman. He's come to talk to you about your parents." Dick raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "He'll talk to you in here. I'll be outside." She let Batman step into the cell before leaving and locking the door behind her. 

"On the night of your parent's deaths, did you notice anything suspicious?" Dick continued to stare at him without a word almost like he was too busy analyzing him to hear the question. His eyes narrowed and darted all over his suit. "Richard?"

"Why are you dressed like that?" the boy asked. His voice was croaky from disuse and held a slight accent Batman couldn't quite place. Probably a combination of all those he'd grown up around and picked up on his travels. 

"It's my suit." Dick hummed and continued to press his back into the wall as though he wished he could be absorbed by it. "Do I frighten you?" He could admit his suit wasn't exactly child-friendly and he towered over the small acrobat. 

"No," he replied confidently. "You don't look like police."

"I'm not with the police."

"Good," he muttered. "Why do you wanna know what happened then?"

"I don't agree with the conclusion they made." Dick seemed to warm to this sentiment and moved away from the wall. He tilted his head to the side as he considered his answer to the original answer before settling on a decision. 

"There was a man who visited a few hours before our performance. He demanded money but Haley refused. My papa forced him out."

"Did you get a name?"

"Tony Zucco." Batman was familiar with the name. He'd heard it whispered on patrols. The guy was ruthless and greedy, a bloody successor to his father. "He's got grey hair, I think a scar around his eye. Mama said not to worry. I saw one of his men by the wires and thought he was just hanging around." He shook his head shamefully and hugged himself tightly. "He wasn't hanging around. He messed with our wires." He moved to sit on the bed, going to the corner and bringing his knees to his chest. 

"Why did he want the money?"

"For protection. Against himself and others." He scowled at the crumpled bedsheets. "When I get out of here, I'll kill him."

"That won't help."

"I don't care if it does. He deserves to die."

"There are other ways to get justice," Batman insisted.

"Oh yeah? I'm not stupid, I know what justice means to men like that. Someone else takes the fall and he goes free." Batman wanted to argue that there would be justice but even he wasn't that naive. He knew what would happen and he knew it would be exactly what Dick said. He couldn't do much in that way but...

"You don't deserve to be in here."

"I should've told someone," Dick told him. "I'm in here for that."

"You're in here because there wasn't room anywhere else."

"Sure and I'm gonna get saved by a mysterious secret sibling too and we'll start our own circus," he replied sarcastically. Maybe not a mysterious secret sibling but someone closer than he thought. "Do whatever you want but I'll make sure he's dead. That's the justice my parents deserve."

"And you deserve to go to prison for it?" He shrugged. "Someone will help you, Richard."

"No one can help me, Batman. Why would they bother? People here have made it pretty clear they don't like people like me," he replied bitterly, reminding Batman of himself at that urge. Cursing the world for everything. He probably felt alone even before he was brought to solitary. "Why do you care about it?"

"About what?"

"My parents dying. You don't know me, I'm not from here and the police closed it."

"I care about everyone here. No matter where they started."

"How very noble of you," Dick drawled sarcastically. Batman could understand the hesitance. He went to his belt and pulled out a protein bar Alfred made him keep on his person. He placed it on the bed next to the boy. "No strings, right?"

"No strings. They told me you weren't able to eat."

"Like I said, people don't like me." He reluctantly took the protein bar. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." He opened the bar and started eating carefully, not scoffing it down despite not eating for a while. "Have you told you when you get out?" He shook his head.

"Not a prisoner, no release date. Indefinite." He chewed thoughtfully. "Do you call your car the Batmobile? You should. It'd keep with your theme." Batman smiled before he could think about stealing his features. It almost felt foreign to smile so easily. 

"I'll think about it." He had what he needed but he wanted to stay longer. "Is there anyone I can call?"

"My papa and mama were the only family I know. The circus can't take me, they'll try and I want them to but I can't perform. Dead weight." He nodded, his frown deepening. "Don't worry about me, B." He will. "Is there anything else you needed?"

"Not as of yet. I'll contact you otherwise." 

"Good luck."

Two weeks and another fight later, Robinson entered his cell with a small smile.

"You're getting out of here kid. Someone is adopting you. Best guy in town to be adopted by in my book."

"Who is it?"

"Bruce Wayne. Apparently, he was at your show, found out where you ended up and wanted to help out. Think you're ready to go."

"As ready as I can be." Nothing could be worse from here, right?