Chapter Text
Crowds in Gotham were rarely a good thing.
This was something Dick learned the first night he went out as Robin at the mere age of 8 years old. Crowds were easy targets, and the people of Gotham knew this. Standing close together in a group was like catnip for rogues or gangs. All it took was one little bomb, one little gun, one little scream, and suddenly you have a terrified mob of people all rushing off to get away, leaving behind those not fortunate to get away strewn across the ground. Most of the time, they were dead before Dick ever reached them.
The crowd gathered outside Wayne Botanical Gardens immediately had him on edge. It was unlike the people of Gotham to group like this, let alone a stone's throw away from Crime Alley. They were laughing too, some even clapping. Laughter that was completely untainted with the hysterical edge Joker's venom always produced. Even though everything about the scene screamed joy, Dick felt his heart beat faster as he made his way to the front, wishing desperately he had his Nightwing suit.
It was broad daylight outside though, not quite the time for his night persona to make an appearance. In fact, it was his civilian identity that was supposed to be at Wayne Botanical Gardens, though he had arrived about ten minutes early. Wayne Enterprises was hosting a Garden Walk inside today, and Tim had begged him to make an appearance, citing his circus background as something that would draw people in and Dick wouldn't it be so nice to give a speech about the importance of the arts in the modern age?
Tim didn't even care about the arts, the little shit. Dick loved him dearly.
When Dick finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, he spotted a lithe figure doing a handspring before pushing off the ground and into a front flip. His shoulders relaxed without a thought. It was just a performer. Wayne Enterprises always invited a few to the Garden Walks. Dick felt a little silly for getting so worked up, especially over his people feeling a bit of joy when so many days were filled with gloom. But... his eyebrows furrowed. Usually the performers are inside the gardens, not camped out in the back.
Right as the thought crossed his mind, the figure came to a stop. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and the figure took a quick bow, before looking out at the crowd and grinning. It was a young boy, likely a teenager. And as he beamed at the crowd, waving in every direction he could, they yelled encore, encore, encore! With a short laugh, he turned with his back to Dick and pushed up into a one-armed handstand. He bent his arm, preparing to launch into some other trick, when he looked up from his upside-down position and made eye-contact with Dick. Dick felt himself freeze as he watched the boy's eyes go wide, grin dropping, and suddenly he wobbled. It was so slight, someone unfamiliar with acrobatics wouldn't have noticed. But Dick knew every proper sway of a trick like his body knew how to breathe, and he felt with a certainty in his chest that the boy was going to fall over and ruin his show. Dick was 8 years old again, but instead of watching his parents fall, he was watching himself, young and confused and trying so hard to impress everyone. Every moment in front of a crowd a show, where one wrong move would land him a sprain, a broken bone, or worse.
And then the boy shut his eyes and twisted, body contorting into an odd diagonal flip as he pushed off with his one hand, and landed perfectly on two feet. Dick barely got a moment to process how insanely strong and talented the kid must be to pull that off, before disappointed groans from the crowd interspersed with more clapping snapped him from his thoughts. When he focused again, the boy was already gone.