Chapter Text
There wasn't much Mary regretted in her life. She would never regret starting to work at the circus, where she met John, a charming fool who made her laugh, who stole her heart, and with whom she ended up building a life.
However, Mary's greatest regret is also her greatest devotion.
Standing before the altar, looking into John's eyes, she truly believed that from that moment on, everything would be better, that this was the beginning of something good. And it was, for a very, very long time.
If she had known everything that would happen afterward, everything they were getting themselves into, perhaps she would have chosen differently, perhaps she would never have had her children.
Don't misunderstand her, she loves her little ones more than anything in this world. When she first became pregnant, she was so happy that she ended up crying with John by her side, talking all night about names, who the baby would look more like, whether it would be a boy or a girl. The following days were filled with joy and an almost idyllic longing.
The months passed with that anxious excitement that comes with a new life until the day of delivery arrived.
After endless hours, her little one, Richard John Grayson, was finally born. When she held him in her arms, so small, so fragile, she knew that everything up to that moment had been worth it.
The first few years were chaotic; the circus didn't stop, and neither did they. They made mistakes, they learned, and little by little they began to adapt to their new life as parents. Between sleepless nights and soft laughter, the certainty that she was building a home grew stronger every day.
As Dick grew up, he became the happiest and sweetest child anyone could wish for. He looked so much like her that Mary liked to joke that John hadn't even tried.
He had barely learned to walk and was already eager to fly alongside them on the trapeze. They let him try, clumsy and frustrating at first. But they were always there to catch him and encourage him.
When he finally succeeded, Dick couldn't stop smiling. He would run backstage, proud, showing off what he had learned to anyone who would listen.
Everyone in the circus loved him, and he loved the circus.
The years passed, Dick turned nine, and life brought them a surprise. Having another child wasn't in their plans, they were happy with just Dick. They couldn't ask for more, but life had other plans. That's how Peter arrived, unexpected but just as loved.
Dick was overjoyed when he found out.
“Am I going to have a little brother?” Dick had asked, his eyes sparkling.
Mary laughed. “Yes, darling.”
From that moment on, he took his role very seriously. He followed Mary around like a duckling, offering his help in every way he could, watching over every detail with an almost comical seriousness, as if everything depended on him to go well.
John said he was “too responsible for someone who was barely bigger than Zitka,” the baby elephant Dick had named.
The day of the birth arrived faster than expected; he was born a month early, premature, too eager to be born, it seemed, and it was also more difficult.
There was a silence, one that seemed eternal, as she lay on that stretcher. She only allowed herself to breathe until the crying finally came. John was by her side, as always, a steady presence even though she could see the worry hidden in his eyes, the way he didn't dare take his eyes off the baby.
"Peter," she had said as soon as they placed him in her arms. He was small, more fragile, more so than Dick had been at one time.
They took longer to leave the hospital, but when they finally did, Dick was already waiting for them, barely containing his excitement.
"Can I hold him?" was the first thing Dick asked, bouncing on his tiptoes.
"Carefully," John said before handing the baby to Dick. He positioned his arms exactly as instructed, holding his brother so gently, gazing at him with wonder and joy.
Looking at her two sons together, Mary felt something she couldn't immediately name. But it was something good.
She leaned in to kiss John before a “Yuck!” made her laugh.
If she could freeze time, it would be right then.
Ever since the circus detoured to New Jersey, John felt things had gotten strange. Well, they always get strange whenever they set foot in New Jersey; it's been like that for as long as he could remember.
But now it was different. Whenever he ended up going into a place looking for Dick, there were always people he didn't recognize staring at him, completely silent. John said he was just looking for his son and left, not giving it much thought beyond the awkwardness of the moment.
"Everyone has their own business," he thought.
The way they fell silent whenever they noticed him was disconcerting, to say the least. He thought maybe he was just getting a little paranoid, so he kept it to himself. He didn't want to worry anyone. Mary already had enough to deal with, Peter being too irritable and coughing every night.
Maybe he was paranoid. They needed to find a pediatrician for Peter, but going from state to state with the circus complicated things a lot.
One night, wandering outside the trailers, he'd gone out for a smoke. He just needed a break while he tried to figure out what was wrong with him.
The night was calm, the sky clear, and a light, cool breeze was blowing. Murmurs drifted from afar, but he had no intention of listening to whatever those people were talking about. He let it be background noise, about to light his cigarette, when something caught his attention.
"What about Grayson's kid?" A barely audible female voice rose in the air.
That simple question threw John off so much that he immediately forgot why he had gone outside and stealthily approached the source of the sound, remaining hidden among the trailers. At first, he was puzzled. What did these people want with his son?
"They certainly want him. He's Cobb's great-grandson. They already have plans for him" a male voice replied.
John's stomach clenched. Plans?
"And the other one?" the female voice asked after a brief silence.
Peter. The world seemed to stop.
"Premature, sickly, not that interesting. But it's still too early to rule him out." The woman paused before continuing. "However, he has a metagene. Depending on what it is, it might be useful to us."
"We have time. We can wait."
He remained silent, not listening but simultaneously hearing everything. He hadn't fully understood, but one thing was certain: they were interested in his children. They wanted to take them and do who-knows-what with them. He stayed until the voices stopped.
He had no idea how he'd gotten to the caravan with his family, all asleep together, safe and sound. But now he knew that safety wouldn't last long.
He waited a few days before telling Mary; he needed to process it all first before saying anything to her. It was going to devastate her, he already felt devastated himself.
When he told her, Mary thought he was joking, that it was a tasteless story, because how could something like that even exist?
Convincing her was hard, they argued more than they had in years.
When he finally managed to convince her, there was fear and determination in her eyes.
The normalcy they had built over the years in the circus, their home, was beginning to crumble under the weight of a reality neither of them wanted to accept.
People who wouldn't take no for an answer wanted to take their children.
They would have to leave, disappear, abandon the home they had created to protect those they loved.
They decided to start with Peter, who hadn't yet been targeted as much as his brother, taking him far away, hiding him where no one could find him, far from those strange people.
The decision wasn't immediate, but once made, there was no going back.
It took them longer than they could afford. Time was running out, though they didn't know how much time they had. Peter had started walking and talking. They should have been happy, but only sadness hid behind their smiles.
They moved cautiously, using every contact, every favor, every tiny piece of information they had gathered. They barely managed to convince someone to take Peter in for a while, until they found a way to save Dick.
They took advantage of their son's illness. It was a difficult decision; no parent is ever truly prepared to let go of their child, especially when they are so young, when you're supposed to be there for them, accompanying them as they explore the world.
Both parents remembered that night when they had to part from their youngest son.
“Mom?” Peter had murmured, sounding distressed and terribly confused, his large doe-like eyes searching his mother for answers she couldn't give him. Perhaps someday he would understand, even though it broke her heart today.
“It will only be a few days, I promise bug” Mary whispered, cradling her youngest son's face in her hands, her gaze traveling over his features, the beautiful blue eyes he undoubtedly inherited from her and his father's brown hair.
“Look!” she gently held up a small stuffed elephant. “Zitka will keep you company, okay? She's important to your brother, so make sure you take good care of her.” She smiled as Peter delicately grasped the stuffed animal, which somehow seemed even bigger in his small hands.
Her son returned her gaze, saying nothing, but his eyes betrayed his disapproval of her leaving. Mary understood; she didn't want to leave either. She wanted to stay there until the stars died. A hand gently rested on her shoulder.
"Mary," John said softly, "we have to go." Carefully and tenderly, he separated the mother and son's clasped hands.
They turned, ready to leave. Mary went first, taking slow steps with a lump in her throat, John guiding her across the threshold, when something caught the hem of his shirt. John stopped, turning his head to see his son's small figure.
His fingers were gripping the fabric with a force uncharacteristic of such a young child, his knuckles tense, his gaze fixed on him as if letting go meant something more than a simple goodbye.
“Be good.” Those were John’s last words before closing the door behind him, walking away with Mary beside him. They didn’t look back because if they did, they wouldn’t be able to leave.
The sky itself was overcast, threatening rain, as if it too were lamenting. They got into the beat-up car, more rust than car. John took the driver’s seat and started the engine as soon as Mary climbed in beside him.
The ride was silent, barely interrupted by the small raindrops that began to fall.
“They’re just children,” Mary whispered, watching the drops slowly trickle down the window. “I don’t think they’ll understand.”
“I know,” he replied. His gaze, fixed on the road, shifted for a moment to look at his wife, the one who had stolen his heart so many years ago, the one with whom he had decided to start a family… his gaze returned to the road. “The important thing is that they’ll be safe.”
Mary didn't answer immediately. She knew it was true, but that didn't make it any less awful.
Her fingers tightened on the fabric of her skirt, wrinkling it without her realizing it. "After Gotham, we're taking Dick."
"Of course." If John wasn't entirely convinced, she didn't have the courage to say so.
A sigh, and Mary snapped back to reality, amidst gasps of astonishment beneath her feet. Standing before the trapeze, her decision was made. After tonight, after this final act, Gotham, the last day the Graysons soared through the circus skies.
She looked at John, just as determined as she was. With a sigh, they prepared to begin the show. Nothing could go wrong; they had their plans in place. They would take Dick after tonight.
