Chapter Text
You’re three.
You’re three and the first thing that ever imprints on your undeveloped mind - other than the fact that if you want Mommy and Daddy to stay home then you have to be perfect - is the hug of a little acrobat boy at the circus. The boy who promised to do a special move just for you. The boy who just lost his parents.
The second memory that you have is of bodies crunching into the circus floor, after falling from a malfunctioning line.
The third is of your Mommy’s nails digging into your shoulder and steering you to the car as your Daddy grumbles.
They leave next month.
Soon, you’re five.
You’re five and your most favoritest things in the world are Batman and Robin. You’re obsessed with them. You take newspaper clippings of them and put them on a corkboard in your room, and you swear you’ll be a detective when you grow up. You watch newsreels and videos and get pictures from the internet, and you stare at them for hours.
You spend your years with your nanny, playing Batman and Robin until you’re eight.
You’re eight and your parents say you’re old enough to take care of yourself, so you start playing Batman and Robin alone. Your parents hire a housekeeper to keep everything tidy for you and them. They only come home every once in a while, you can’t be bothered to count the days between because you’re eight and obsessed with Batman and Robin.
Everything’s different when you’re nine-and-a-quarter.
Robin does something amazing that only a few people can do, and you connect Robin to the little acrobat boy, from the first memory that's seared into your mind, who moved next door. You connect Batman to the man who took in the little acrobat boy and he’s your next-door neighbor.
You’re nine-and-a-half when you start running on rooftops with a cheap little camera that you bought with the allowance your parents, who are in South Africa, give you.
You are nine years old when your life is set on a path that cannot be changed.
When you’re ten, the little acrobat boy leaves, and so does Robin.
You are sad, but you keep following Batman with your new film camera and obsess over any piece of news about the little acrobat boy as Nightwing.
When you are ten-and-a-half, Batman gets a new Robin.
He’s loud and a little mean but kind and gentle when the situation calls for it. You like him more than the little acrobat boy as Robin and you still love the little acrobat boy more - he is your first memory after all - but this new Robin is your first Robin.
You are twelve and you win first in a state science fair for kids your age.
You tell your parents when they come back from their trip. They pat you on the head and say how it will look good for your future, but don’t say anything else.
You’re newly twelve and the new boy next door - your Robin - dies.
You still follow Batman, but he’s much more violent, and you’re a little bit scared, so you go to someone you think will make it better. The little acrobat boy-now-man says he will not help and you are crushed but determined. You go to Batman directly and tell him that he is spiraling and that you are offering him help. He refuses, so when he and Nightwing are in trouble, you put on Robin and help.
You are twelve-and-a-half and are training to be Robin.
You are thirteen, now Robin, and you make friends.
You meet a Kryptonian clone and an Amazon and a speedster out of time. You befriend them and become a team with a few other people, but you are the core four. You help Batman become a little better, and you connect him with other heroes again.
You meet two girls at home, one in purple, one in black. You fall in love with the purple one and the other becomes your sister. You love them dearly.
You are thirteen and you have become more than you could have ever hoped to have been at five, playing Batman and Robin.
You are nearly fourteen and your Mother dies by poison, your Father is put into a coma, and Batman fosters you. Nightwing holds you as you cry, and your friends distract you when they can.
You are newly fourteen and Red Hood tries to kill you. Red Hood is your Robin, the boy next door, and he hates you for taking something that wasn’t his to begin with.
You’re fourteen-and-a-half, and your Father wakes up.
You move out of the Manor that is Batman's house, and you move next door again. You’re still Robin.
You’re fourteen-and-three-quarters, and you’re no longer Robin, and only months later your Father is killed by the same man who killed your Mother.
You’re almost fifteen and Batman adopts you. You’re Robin again.
You’re fifteen when a child shows up.
He is Batman’s blood child, he has a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. He tries to kill you three times within the first four days of meeting him.
You’re fifteen-and-a-half when people start dying.
It starts with your speedster friend, then the girl you thought was the love of your life.
Your fifteen-and-three-quarters when your Kryptonian friend dies.
You’re sixteen…
And it’s not looking good.
You’re sixteen-and-a-quarter and Batman ‘dies.’
He’s not dead and you know it, even if no one else will listen to you.
Nightwing, now Batman, takes Robin and gives it to the blood child who’s been trying to kill you for years. He dismisses you when you try to show him that Batman isn’t dead.
You break Red Hood out of Arkham, both as a distraction and because he shouldn’t be there in the first place, and get the hell out of dodge.
You’re sixteen-and-a-quarter and you’re scared out of your mind.
You’re sixteen-and-a-half and you’re traveling with assassins, a dangerous villain in your ear.
You’re close to having everything you need to prove that Batman is alive, but you’re scared of the price that the Ra’s will call for.
You’re two minutes from seventeen and you have the last piece you need to find Batman.
You and your assassin friends are ambushed, two of them killed, the other losing blood fast.
You are exactly seventeen when you lose two friends and your spleen.
You wake surrounded by enemies who turn into dangerous allies that you betray in the end. You beat Ra’s and you take his hostage home with you.
You have been seventeen for three weeks, four days, nineteen hours, and forty-eight minutes when you win against Ra’s the final time, and are thrown out a ninety-story window.
You expect to die, newly seventeen, and nothing like what your five-year-old self could dream of.
You do not die.
Nightwing as Batman catches you and carries you back to the Manor, he patches you up and accepts your lies about how you knew he'd be there to catch you, then listens to your evidence.
He helps you get Batman back.
You have been seventeen for one month, two days, nine hours, and twelve minutes and Batman pats you on the shoulder telling you that your work is commendable.
He does not say anything else.
You have deja vu for days.