Chapter Text
Dick learned he was different long before he met Bruce. The flips he could do with his parents were nothing compared to the tight spaces he fit in. He first learned that he could fit himself anywhere when he was six.
Dick was very bored. His parents were practicing, and usually he would be with them, but he sprained his left wrist last night, and he wasn't allowed back on the trapeze until it healed.
He decided, using the reasoning skills of a very bored child, to try to fit into the contortionist's box. Ms. Cathy was out helping the ringmaster, so her box was just sitting with the other props. It was a very sparkly box. There were patterns of red and white to match the big top above. He opened the lid, and carefully stepped inside. It was a little hard to hold the heavy lid up while standing inside, but he could do it! He kneeled down, trying to copy the pose he had seen Ms. Cathy do so many times.
He switched to holding the lid with his left hand an- OW! That was his sprained wrist! He pulled his wrist to his chest, protecting it. Then... oh. He just let go of the lid. Why hadn't it hit him on the head yet? When Ms. Cathy lets go in the routine, it slams shut, showing that she was fully inside! But Dick wasn't fully inside yet? Was he? He looks up. Where did the light coming in the windows go? He knew it wasn't night, but why can't he see anything? He trys to stand up, but he can't move?? His head brushes against something solid, but he can't stand! It feels like his body was in a tornado, all twisted in knots. Dick sits there for a little bit longer, being careful with his injured wrist. Then he hears voices. Those were his parents voices! They would help him with his tornado body!
"Dick? Little Robin where are you?" Mom calls.
"Mom! Mom! I'm here!" Dick calls back.
"Oh My! Did you get in Cathy's box?!" Mom sounds really worried.
"Maybe? I'm fine though!" Dick says. Mom shouldn't be worried, he's fine.
Suddenly light seems to attack him as the lid above him opens. So he was all the way inside the box?! But how? He's seen Ms. Cathy practicing a ton! It takes a lot of work to get into the box! And he didn't even stretch before! His mom gasps above him. He looks down to see what happened to his tornado legs, and... what? His body is all twisted! But he can't feel any pain, so he didn't break anything, but how else would his back be stretched like that? He still should have bones in his spine! Dad reached down and picked him up.
"What did you do little Robin?" Mom still sounds worried. She is rubbing his back. Now his back is normal? What happened?
"I was bored... so I tried to see if I could fit in Ms. Cathy's box... but then I used my hurt wrist, and it hurt, so I let go of the lid and I guess it closed, and then I tried to stand up, but I felt like I was in a tornado, and tied in knots, so I couldn't stand, and I was stuck! Then you came and saved me!"
His parents exchanged a look. Dad gently set him on his bed. Dick gets a very long explanation on why what he did was dangerous. He listens for about half of it, but then he starts thinking about how he got all tornado-ed. Once his parents get him to agree to never try to play with another performers props, he finally gets to ask them the question.
"But how did I bend like that in the box?"
"Well..." his parents exchange another look.
His dad speaks first, "Have you heard of something called a metahuman?"
So Dick knew he was different. But he didn't usually talk about it. His parents knew, but then they fell. So now no one knew. Except Dick. And maybe Alfred. Alfred knows everything. Especially when that something has to do with how someone leaves footprints that stop at a vent that's too small for someone to fit in naturally.