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Jonathan sits down with Richard first; Wayne had made the library the designated spot for the statements, and Richard is sitting across from him, flopped down on the sofa like any other indolent young man.
"Well… Your show, Archivist; let's get to it."
Jonathan swallows at the smile Richard flashes him, but turns the tape recorder on as ordered, setting it down on the table.
"Statement of Richard John Grayson, concerning his…" Jonathan pauses, unsure of how to word it.
"Becoming an 'Avatar'? That's what you call it, right?" Richard asks, still spread out on the couch.
"I… yes, I suppose it is," Jon says quietly. "Statement of Richard John Grayson, concerning his becoming an Avatar; statement taken directly from subject, twelve July 2018. Statement begins."
Richard immediately sits up, so fast that Jonathan can barely track him, staring at the little device for a moment. His face is somewhere in-between thoughtful and careless, but his bright blue eyes flicker back to Jonathan after a second, and he seems to relax back into the couch.
"Guess the best place to start is the beginning, huh? I'm the oldest of my siblings; other than Bruce, I've been what I am the longest out of any of us. Other than maybe Cass," he adds, almost as an after-thought. "But it's hard to tell with her, she's never been great with time. Honestly, we're not even sure how old she is. But I guess that's not really the point.
"So. I was a perfectly normal happy kid. Grew up in the circus, actually." He chuckles when he sees Jonathan's face twitch in disgust. "No, not that circus. A perfectly normal, average circus. My parents were Romani; gypsies, assholes used to call 'em, people who didn't know shit. But honestly, Archivist? I was probably one of the happiest kids on the planet, growing up. We were the Flying Graysons…"
His face softens a bit, the look taking some of the edge away, and leaving him looking far less dangerous. "They were pretty famous, you know. Not quite Barnham levels, but well-known on the circuit, and to people who knew about stuff like that. And like I said… I was a happy kid.
"The circus was family, in a way most people will never be able to understand. When I was little, I could just… I could wander into any camper I wanted, and someone would feed me. I could fall and scrape my knee, and a dozen different people would be there asking if I was okay, giving me cookies, and slapping on some kind of salve and a band-aid. While most kids were trying out for tee-ball, I was riding an elephant around the pens, giving her exercise, and hand-feeding the monkeys."
The soft look falls away, replaced by something bitter. "Then we came to Gotham. I don't know why; we usually stayed to the same routes on our summer tours, and I don't think we'd ever come to the Northeast before; we mostly stayed in the midwest, or the southern states. But for some reason that year, Haly -he's the owner of the carnival, and the ring master -decided to bring the show to Gotham.
"He was an idiot. He had no idea what he getting his people into. We hadn't even gotten the frames for the tents rolled out, when the mob showed up. Demanded 'protection' money, and Haly… Well, like I said, he was an idiot. Said he'd never paid a bribe, or a racket fee in his life, and he wasn't about to start now.
"That night… we were all getting ready for our acts. I'd gotten dressed hours before," he said, chuckling quietly. "I loved the spotlight. I could never wait to get on stage with my parents. But I was already ready to go, so I was checking on the props waiting to go out, when I saw the man. I didn't know his name then; he was just somebody who wasn't supposed to be there, somebody I didn't recognize, out by the trapeze bars.
"I didn't think anything of it; I was eight, and I'd never interacted with anyone outside of the circus before. It didn't even occur to me to ask why he was screwing around with our equipment. I just scampered off, and told Haly I'd seen a 'scary man' in the tent.
"He shrugged it off, of course; in his defense… Again, circus born and raised, I'd kinda gotten a reputation for my imagination. So he just shrugged, and said he'd take care of it, then patted me on the shoulder and told me to go find my parents, that the show would start soon."
Richard's jaw clenches, and unclenches in time with his fists for a few seconds. Finally, he takes a deep breath. "You can probably guessed what happened; if not, you can look it up. There's still videos of it online. I was packed off to an orphanage, and CPS wouldn't let the circus -the only family I had left -anywhere near me.
"I ran away a few times that first week. So the next week, I was basically forced to follow one of the volunteers around, helping them do useless shit all day. I hated it for the first two days, but… It worked in my favor. I was following one of the janitors around, when a man showed up in the yard.
"Didn't take me even a second to realize it was him. Didn't know his name then, but later I'd learn it was Tony Zucco, and that he was one of Falcone's lieutenants. That probably doesn't mean anything to you, but the Falcones pretty much run Gotham's mob scene."
The smile Richard gives Jonathan is… inhuman. Something about it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, every 'prey' instinct he has going into overdrive. But he forces himself to stay sitting, as Richard continues his tale.
"Obviously 'Falcones' didn't mean anything to me either. So I followed him. I followed him every day for two weeks, waiting for my chance. And I could… I could almost feel myself changing, Archivist," Dick says thoughtfully. "Not in any way I could really recognize, but I knew something was happening. As the days went on, it was… easier to track Zucco. I can't even tell you how I tracked him, just that I could. That no matter where he was, I would always find something to help me find him.
"Then, one night, five weeks, and one day after the night Tony Zucco had killed my parents… I got my chance. I was on a roof -tiny acrobat, remember -watching the bar I'd followed him too… And when he left, he went a different way home than he normally did. I'm still not sure where he was going; wherever it was, he didn't make it there.
"That night was the first night that I realized that I was something… more than human. I was following him, jumping from roof to roof, climbing along the walls, and moving faster than I'd ever moved before.
"He knew. He knew something was there, chasing him through Gotham's back alleys. He didn't know what; he couldn't see me, but I could feel his fear. I could practically taste it, Archivist. And the longer I chased him, the better it tasted on the air. I was a kid pulling wings off of bugs, and I loved it.
"I finally caught up to him in an alley. But it wasn't an alley here. It was somewhere Else, somewhere where there was nobody else. No end, just an continuous alley. I wasn't even human at that point; I had claws, and fangs, and…" Richard chuckles quietly. "Everything an eight year old can imagine makes up a monster. And I tore him to pieces.
"It wasn't until afterwards that I realized… I wasn't alone in the alley. And I don't mean the pieces of Tony Zucco. It got dark. Darker than the darkest night I'd ever seen, and for the first time since my parents died… I was afraid. I didn't know why at the time, I didn't understand what was happening, but that fear? It pulled me back from the edge, and I started to run.
"As I ran… I changed. It's hard to be a monster when you're afraid, right? As I ran, I turned back into me. And when I did… The darkness vanished. The alley vanished. And I ran face first right into a wall. Actually broke my nose I hit it so hard. And I remember thinking that I was gonna die, just like my parents did. That whatever was behind me, whatever darkness had been chasing me through that alley, it was going to kill me, and that'd be the end of the Flying Graysons.
"I definitely wasn't expecting a soft voice, and a gloved hand helping me to my feet. I looked up and there was a man. A man dressed as a giant bat. Well… I wasn't scared of bats. We had bats in the circus, trained bats that I got to help take care of. So I uh…"
Richard stops, and for the first time, he looks… is that embarassment? It is, Jonathan is fairly sure. "I thought he was safe; that he could keep me safe from whatever was in the dark. So I uh… I hugged him. Clung to him like a monkey is probably more accurate, but you know. Whatever. It was enough to convince him I wasn't too far gone yet, and he… He took me home.
"Again, remember, I was eight; I had no idea what had happened to me in that alley -when I killed Zucco, or what had been chasing me -I was afraid, and I'd spent my whole life sheltered in the circus. I didn't even think about what kind of monster I could be getting in the car with. He took me home, and… He taught me.
"There are plenty of my… brethren…" He says the word with a hint of disgust in his voice. "In Gotham. Other than the Strangers, there's more Hunters in Gotham anything else. Deathstroke. Deadshot. Zsasz. The Talons. Chesire. Most of them -all of them, really, with the exception of Deathstroke and maybe Deadshot -don't have any humanity left. The Hunt is the only thing they know.
"But Bruce… He taught me how to control it. How to feed what I am, without giving in to it. Without becoming it. Took a long time," he admits, almost casually. "Took a lot of years before Bruce was ready to let me Hunt on my own, without him there. But now? Deathstroke is the only one who's on equal footing with me. And we mostly try to avoid each other. Since technically neither of us can die, it just ends… messy."
Richard sighs, and the quiet, almost soft sound doesn't feel right coming from someone who belongs to the Hunt. "Then Jason came along. And I won't… His tale is his to tell. But if you looked into our family at all… You know what happened to him. I… didn't take it well. I had moved to Bludhaven, by then, trying to establish myself on my own, without Bruce and the Dark there to fall back on. So I wasn't home as often as I probably should've been.
"But I still went home on weekends. Still taught Jason -completely human, fragile Jason- how to Hunt. It was… I'd never had a brother before. He brought out the human side of me, and I helped him become Robin."
When Jon blinks at him, Richard just chuckles. "It was my parents name for me. When Bruce took me under his wing, when he taught me how to Hunt -as best he could, he's Darkness after all -he told me I needed something to call myself. That if I was going out with Batman, I needed a face I could put on. Something I could Hunt as, something separate from Dick. So I chose Robin. It seemed fitting enough, hunting murderers with the name my murdered parents gave me.
"Now before you ask, I wasn't trying to change Jason. Bruce and I were both clear on that with him: he wasn't an offering to our Fears, and he wasn't to try and become one of us. He was our family, but he didn't need to be an 'Avatar' for that. If I'm being honest, Archivist, he… Jason helped us hold onto our humanity. Made it easier. He was our anchor to our humanity, and we… Christ, we were so goddamn arrogant. We thought he was safe with us. That he'd always be safe with us, because we were the monsters that protected him.
"It was the Joker that took him. It's… Again, it's Jason's story; he can tell you if he wants. But the Joker is to the Stranger what you are to the Eye. And I want you to imagine, Archivist… what a true Avatar of the Stranger could do to the mind of a small, defenseless teenage boy."
Richard's face is a mixture of rage, shame, and absolute hatred, as he continues, "I went on the Hunt; obviously, I went on the Hunt. But you know as well as I do that some places… Amadaeus Arkham is to Gotham what Robert Smirke is to London. I couldn't… There were so many places, Archivist, and I had to go inside each one before I could try to Hunt the Joker. And they were his places of power; I knew, even as I Hunted, that he could hide from me for weeks if he really put his mind to it.
"And that's when I… I made a mistake. I knew I didn't have time, I didn't have weeks to look; that if it took me weeks, I'd never get Jason back, I'd get a mindless, broken husk of a damn doll. But I could… Jason was our anchor. I could… I could Hunt him easier than I could another Avatar. I could Hunt a human, one I had a connection to in my damn sleep. He was a part of me, after all.
"I… I found him. Obviously, I found him, it was… Once I let myself do it, once I convinced myself that I could control myself enough to stop the Hunt I'd started, it was… easy, honestly. But the Joker knew I was coming, and he… he wasn't about to lose the game."
He takes a deep breath, his head bowed. It's the most human that Jonathan has seen him yet, the grief and pain written all over his body. "I got there, and Jason was already dead. I could see what the Joker had done to him. I could… No. That's Jason's story to tell you, not mine. But I… lost myself. For months I hunted the Joker. I'd find him, and tear him apart, and he'd come back, and I'd do it again.
"Over and over and over again, Archivist. I Hunted the thing that had killed my little brother, killed my anchor, killed the one human being who knew what I was, who wasn't afraid of me. I found him, and I tore him limb from limb. I let myself become the monster I'd been that night in the alley with Zucco, and I…"
He lifts his head up, finally meeting Jonathan's gaze. "I did some research on you, Archivist. When I heard there was a new Archivist, I figured eventually you'd come here, and I'd have to Hunt you like I did that bitch. So I know you've lost humans. You know what being around us does. It… It calls Their attention. Calls Their focus. Jason had always been in danger, we knew that, that if any of the Fears could get their hands on him, they would. But we thought… We could keep him safe.
"My calling a Hunt on him, and him dying before I could get to him… Well. It was the perfect catalyst to call one of the Fears. I won't… the details don't… They're not mine to tell you, and I won't… Jason deserves to tell you himself, if he wants to. But I was killing the Joker again, about a year after Jason's death, when… When I felt him again. When I felt that urge, to run, to chase… to Hunt.
"I left the Joker in pieces, and I… I ran. I wasn't even sure where I was running to, just that I had to chase. I moved faster than I think I ever had before, and I found myself in front of Jason's grave.
"Bruce tried to stop me. I don't know if… I don't know how he knew what I was doing, but he got to the cemetary, and he… tried to stop me. I nearly killed him then; I was half-feral by that point, and not just because I thought my little brother was still alive in the earth, still Buried. And I don't know if… if it was the thought that he'd lost both his sons, or if he wasn't willing to risk having to kill me himself, or…
"I don't know. You'll have to ask him; I've never been able to bring myself to do it, honestly. But he stopped trying to stop me, and I… I started digging.
"It… honestly seemed like hours. I could… After a… a while? I'm not sure, time is…" Richard shakes his head a bit, looking a bit… confused, perhaps? "It's hard enough to tell time when I'm lost to a Hunt; combine that with the Forever Below, and… I don't know. I know at some point… we could hear him scream.
"It… Honestly, I was starting to… to panic," he says, chuckling almost ruefully. "I hadn't worried about anything since I'd found Jason's body, but… I knew what I was turning into. I thought… maybe I'd gone nuts, you know? But then I heard Jason scream, and when I turned to look at Bruce… I could tell he'd heard it too.
"So we dug. Christ, we dug for so goddamn long. No matter how much dirt we moved, no matter how far into the Choked we went, it seemed like there was never anymore dirt beside the grave, like we were never any deeper than the six foot we'd buried Jason at, no matter how hard or fast we dug. We were both in our Other form, tearing and ripping at that dirt, and it… I honestly thought maybe…"
Richard is quiet. The whole room quiet, nothing other than the quiet background noise of the taperecorder humming along. And Jon… waits.
But whatever Richard had 'honestly thought', he doesn't seem inclined to share. He finally looks away from the window he's been staring at on and off since he started talking about digging.
"We pulled him out. Broken, bleeding, brain-damaged, but we pulled him out. The Buried didn't want to give him up, but we took him back. We pulled him out, and we took him home. He was… After we'd pulled him out, he'd stopped screaming, and he just kept making these… These choked off little noises. The whole way home, as I carried him, he just… Blank, unseeing eyes, and those quiet little whimpers.
"I… We… took him home. Alfred was there, and… Honestly, Archivist, as stupid as it sounds? I hadn't even really stopped and thought about it. About how he was alive. About what had brought him back, because he was dead when I found him, and he was dead when we buried him. It hadn't mattered because he was alive.
"And I waited for Alfred to fix him. You gotta remember, I… I hadn't been human in almost thirteen years. The last time I'd had to worry about a broken bone had been before my parents had died, and I'd been a kid then. So the only time I'd… Jason got hurt, when we'd hunt or patrol before, and Alfred had always patched him back up. Never anything too serious, a broken arm once, a sprained ankle, that sort of thing. But I knew this was… I'd seen his body, when I found him. I knew it was bad. But Alfred had always fixed it before, you know?
"So there I am, staring at Alfred, waiting for Alfred to fix him. And when I realized that Alfred was just… just standing there, I started yelling. If Alfred couldn't fix him, we needed to take him to the hospital. Because that's what humans do. They get hurt, they go to the ER. And I'm just standing there like an idiot, yelling at Alfred and Bruce, and…
"Bruce finally grabbed me. He grabbed my face, and made me look at Jason. He said… he won't need a doctor. That he would just… need time. And that's when I… When I finally realized what had happened.
"It took him.. three weeks to heal. The Buried… I don't know if it brought him back, but it didn't heal him, it just… We had to watch, while he slowly healed. Every broken bone, every torn muscle, every skull fracture."
Richard shakes his head, as if trying to shake off the memories. Then he looks up, a grim smile on his face. "We make a habit of it now: hunting the Joker. I Hunt him, Jason Buries what's left. But Jason is… He's not quite my 'anchor' anymore, he's not Human enough for that, but… I don't know," he admits. "He brought me back from the edge, and he makes it easier to keep what's left of my humanity intact. It works, and it's worked for almost ten years now."
With that, he leans back on the couch again, shifting his neck from side to side until it 'pops' with a loud crack.
"And that's really all I got, Archivist."