Sorry this came out late but here ya go

Failed.

Failed. 

Failed.

Robin let out an angry huff as he once again fumbled the landing. He thought he was going to pick it back up like riding a back but he couldn't get his body to twist and turn nor could he get the image of his mum reaching out to him out of his head. 

Following a conversation he had with Starfire about her planet's traditions, he'd been thinking about his past as a circus performer. His parents had wanted him to continue the Flying Grayson's act but things got in the way and he hadn't been able to get back into it since their deaths. It hurt too much to perform alone when he'd once performed as a unit. Yet his conversation with her about how she was never alone thanks to continuing the traditions because she was carrying on their memory made him rethink his vow to never return to acrobatics. He put some equipment together and set up his own little trapeze area in the gym for him to use. Maybe he'd feel the closure he'd never felt before. Everything had gone so suddenly and changed so greatly that he never felt that comfort of a book chapter ending. So he practised. And failed. Over and over. He'd intended to practice alone but his constant curses and little rants to himself had gathered a crowd of teammates. They were quiet for the most part aside from laughing when he fumbled particularly badly. Eventually, Starfire caught him when he missed the bar to save him from falling all the way to the net. He groaned in her hold and frustratedly righted himself once they were close enough to the ground. Their laughter wasn't helping the situation much. It grated his mind and made him even angrier because they were laughing at him for messing up something he was born to do. "Hey, don't stress. Just because you're not naturally good at something you've never done before doesn't mean you'll never get it," Cyborg soothed, misreading his discomfort as an embarrassment for messing up. 

"I have done it before!" he snapped. "My whole family did this for a living, I don't get why this is so hard now." There were a few laughs at that which made him scowl. "What?"

"You don't have to lie Rob. Everybody has to suck at something." He narrowed his eyes at the group, feeling offended by the very notion. Something in him snapped from anger to some sense of childish upset at not being believed. 

"It's true! We were great performers, we travelled everywhere," Robin insisted, distress eating away at his stern expression yet he may as well not be facing them. Did they really not believe him? Sure he'd lied before but never about his personal life. Was this some kind of payback for the Red X situation that now they were going to take everything he said with a pinch of salt? 

"Yeah right!" Beast Boy protested.

"I'm telling the truth! I performed this! I-I did it one night after my birthday and we performed in Gotham and-and"

"Dude you're embarrassing yourself. Whatever lie training this is, it's not gonna work," Cyborg complained. He sounded bored of it. Bored of a conversation that meant so much to Robin. A sick feeling swirled in his stomach. He remembered how kids would laugh at him in high school. They'd poke and prod at his story, trying to force it apart and rebuild it into what they believed fit the narrative. It hurt more than the fall. 

"You really don't believe me?" he asked. His tone was shaky and broken, more so than before. The leftover giggles died down at that and they suddenly got the idea that he hadn't been lying. He gripped his arms tightly, his fingernails leaving small crescents in his skin from how hard he was holding onto himself. "I'm your leader and you don't believe me." They watched him tense up further at that. A leader meant that he'd be respected and trusted and believed when he opened up about himself but they'd laughed like the boys in school. "You're laughing at me for opening up, is that not what you wanted from me?" He felt himself spiralling as the phantom cackles haunted him.

"Gee, Rob, we're sorry. We just thought well Bats is your dad and he'd look pretty silly doing an act like that," Beast Boy reasoned, guilt evident in his voice. 

"Batman isn't my dad," Robin said in confusion. The group frowned at him at that so he continued to explain. "Batman fostered me and he was my mentor sure but he isn't my dad."

"What do you mean he's not your dad? Who else would be?"

"My dad was John Grayson," he corrected. 

"Then why are you with Batman?"

"Because he's dead."

There was a long silence before he loosened his grip on his arms and sighed defeatedly. He just wanted to do what he'd been so good at once upon a time. How was it that he could flip and fly across the city under nightfall with no net beneath him yet as soon as he was in this position everything was wrong? That didn't feel fair to lose his parents and the tradition he had the means to carry. It shouldn't be this hard for him. "He'd be so disappointed in me now. I can't even do a stupid flip because I see..." Robin's sentence trailed off and shook his head, glancing back to the equipment. "I know I can do it, I just know I can. Then you'd believe me and you wouldn't laugh at me."

"We didn't intend to harm you," Starfire offered worriedly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He didn't want to shrug it off. He could do with the comfort despite him being still so pent up about it. He felt like he was nine again, people laughing and calling him a liar because they had no idea what being in a circus was really like. 

"I know you didn't," he assured them. "Still hurts though."

"We'll make up for it," Raven suggested. He nodded to himself but still stared at the bars swinging slightly. When he was too young to start training, he'd sit on the seats and watch his parents perform. He'd watch everyone perform for that matter but he was especially enamoured with his parents. Their costumes seemed to sparkle even without the bright stage lights and they moved through the air so smoothly he was convinced they could actually fly. They'd train with the net and then take it away when they were performing for the crowds which always made his heart leap to his throat but he knew they wouldn't fall. Until they did. Something that felt surreal suddenly became real and he was only nine. He was too young to see them die. "I trained for years to do it," he began. He didn't know why because they'd just laughed at him but he felt like now his friends would listen. Batman performing like his parents once had would make him laugh too. It wasn't their fault he never clarified the person he'd been before. "I perfected it but after they died, guess I forgot to practice."

"They?" Starfire asked.

"My parents. Lost both of them that night before I met Batman. One night when we were performing, a man messed with our equipment. Wanted money from my circus but Haley refused. We did our act and as I'm about to grab my mum's hands something is wrong. I know it is. A rope snapped and ruined everything. She was falling too fast. My dad is falling too. There was nothing I could do other than just stand there and watch as they go." Raven's eyes widened as she remembered something from when she saw through Robin's eyes. She'd seen the figures fall but she didn't think it was his parents. She thought it was something else entirely.

"But there's a net right?" Beast Boy asked. He shook his head.

"No. We did our routine without it. A gimmick I guess but it proved to be the wrong gimmick to take up. They died. Just crumpled corpses."

"Oh Robin," Starfire whispered.

"Sorry, that's such an overstep," he said, realising what he'd said. He felt like he was in trance explaining it all, imagining it happening on the trapeze right in front of him. 

"Those were the people who fell in your memories," Raven commented. She felt wrong keeping the knowledge to herself. He deserved to know what she'd seen. He blinked and turned to her with a frown.

"I'm so sorry you saw that."

"I only saw them fall, never saw them hitting the ground. Besides, the apologies should remain with you. The memory was old so you had to have been young." He nodded.

"I was nine." He looked back up to the trapeze then back at his friends. "Star made me think about it. Carrying on. I've not performed since they died and I guess I thought I'd pick it right back up but I keep seeing them. I wonder what it felt like sometimes. If it took a long time to go or if they hit the wrong and went like that." He snapped his fingers to show how the haste. 

They let the room rest for a moment before deciding to wrap the conversation up in a good place. "You're just rusty," Cyborg announced, clapping him on the back. "It's been years and you're still going through the grieving process. Why don't you practice some more and when you're ready, we'll watch you?"

"No laughing?" Robin teased.

"Not a peep." He nodded to himself with a smile. That would be nice. The audience always did make him feel comforted. "Maybe you could tell us more about them in the meantime?"

"Oh yes! I would very much enjoy hearing about you when you were small...er," Starfire added with a grin. 

"I'm an acrobat! We're meant to be short! You're like 6ft anyway," Robin defended, letting her drop her hand to rest on his waist. "Thanks for catching me before." She smiled and pressed a kiss against his temple. 

"I shall always catch you."