Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1073481.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics), Batman_and_Robin_(Comics), Justice_League_of_America_
      (Comics), DCU_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Dick_Grayson/Thomas_Wayne_Jr., Dick_Grayson/Jason_Todd, Dick_Grayson/
      Jason_Todd/Thomas_Wayne_Jr.
  Character:
      Dick_Grayson, Thomas_Wayne, Jason_Todd, Owlman, Talon_(DCU), Court_of
      Owls_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Child_Abuse, Murder, just_a_lot_of
      violence, Bottom_Jason_Todd, Earth-3
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-07 Chapters: 1/? Words: 1841
****** Talons ******
by Fanficter123
Summary
     Owlman will do anything to get back at the city that took his family
     from him. Dick Grayson will do anything Owlman asks. Jason Todd will
     do anything to stop them. This is their story.
Notes
     I've been wanting to do an Owlman fic for the longest time and only
     just got off my lazy ass to actually start it.
     I'm taking creative liberties with headcanons here, which is why this
     is classified as an AU.
He was told as a boy there was no such thing as magic.  That any semblance of
the supernatural was, in fact, the result of the mind not understanding what
the eyes saw.  Dick Grayson had never believed that.  The first time he saw his
parents fly he knew there was magic.  It was embedded in the way they moved,
like something from another world entirely, like something he couldn’t touch. 
It was magic.
It was magic when they fell, too.
                                       ~
In the beginning he had been a good boy, or at least as good as any child is
expected to be.  He went to bed on time (usually), always finished his
vegetables (sometimes), and never ever disobeyed his parents (occasionally). 
The troop of Haly’s Circus would have all described Dick as the joy of the
group, a lighthearted young lad who put his all into his craft, and had a knack
for making people smile. 
But people change, given the chance.  He did.
The first time he heard the word Owlman was the night before they entered
Gotham City.   Haly’s had never preformed there before, as the rumors about the
City of Crime ran rampant all across the country.  All the same the need to pay
the bills out-won the troop’s hesitance, and with a pledge of safety from the
Mayor himself, Haly’s Circus agreed to perform for the dark and dense city. 
That was when Owlman became a very popular subject amongst the more gossip-
loving members of the circus; and Dick had always loved a good story.
Some had called the villainous shadow of Gotham a demon.  They said he could
change form and would steal the life right from your lips without laying a hand
on your body.  Others called him a brute, with strength rivaling Ultraman.  He
could rip your heart clean out of your chest like it was nothing.  He killed
because it was fun and left a trail of death and mayhem in his wake.  Still
others claimed he was neither, just a man gone mad hiding behind a mask and
trying to make people suffer just like he had all his life.
Dick was transfixed by the stories.  Owlman was an enigma, something
supernatural and unique and exciting in his tedious life of performance to
performance.  As the train rolled its way into Gotham City, Dick stared out
into the night, watching, praying, for the flicker of a cape that never came.
As the bigtop rose high into the sky, lights were set, and ropes were hung,
Dick snuck away from the safety of the meager trailer he shared with his
parents  to the edge of the fairgrounds.  Barely nine o’clock and police sirens
already blared from three directions, the few people out were keeping their
heads down and their collars up as they briskly walked to their destinations. 
The danger sent a shiver of excitement down his spine; this was living like he
had never known.
That was when he saw it, a shift in the shadows almost naked to the eye.  A
quick figure slipping between the flaps of the big top and leaving not even a
ground of dirt disturbed in its wake.  Owlman. 
Pure terror clutched at Dick’s organs, the most wondrous terror he had ever
experienced.  So, like the sensible boy he was, he followed the silent figure
from a distance, doing his upmost to stay as quiet as the villainous man.  He
found Owlman again in the center ring, high above the ground on the trapeze
stand that the Flying Graysons used, a knife shimmering in his hand as he
carefully, surgically, cut the rope.
The swings that Haly’s used were strong, Dick knew.  Even sabotaged they would
probably hold the weight of one man without incident.  But as soon as a second
joined in the act-
Owlman meant to kill his parents.
Horrified and intrigued, the boy couldn’t help the way his body instinctively
led him backwards to the exit.  He should tell his parents, Haly, someone.  He
should tell before it was too late, and yet…
Owlman leapt from the great height without even a thought, even though the fall
could, should, kill him; just as it was meant to kill John and Mary Grayson.
 At the last moment he spread his arms wide, revealing wing-like fabric that
slowed his fall and allowed him to land gracefully in a puff of dust.  Dick was
transfixed, a soft whine escaped his open mouth like a breath of air; and when
Owlman turned to look directly at him he couldn’t even find the will to run.
Owlman approached him slowly and Dick could have sworn he felt eyes narrow on
him behind that faceless mask.  He swallowed hard, waiting for the moment of
his demise to come and yet still unable to protect himself.  The whole
situation was so ridiculous that it brought a smile to his lips, a wide,
toothy, mad grin; and Owlman’s head cocked just a centimeter to the left.
“You’re the Grayson boy,” he said, and Dick could have died right then and
there from that voice, the deep rumble chilled his bones and heated his cheeks
at the same time.  He couldn’t find the words so he just nodded quickly.  “I
don’t usually kill kids,” the Owl continued, pulling a long and slender knife
from his belt, “But I suppose there’s always exceptions.”
“I won’t tell,” Dick blurted out before he knew what he was saying.  Owlman
paused.  “I won’t,” he continued, “I won’t tell anyone.”
“You won’t save your parents?” inquired the Owl, Dick shook his head.  “I
highly doubt that.”
“I promise.  They can die.”  The words he was saying didn’t seem to come from
him.  They came from something else, a wrinkle in space that was never there
before. Dick didn’t want his parents to die.  He wanted them to live. He wanted
to please Owlman.
Convincing or not, at the very least his words seemed to have caught the Owlman
off guard.  Though he still held the knife with intent to kill, he made no move
for Dick.  “Why?” He asked.
Why?  Dick didn’t know why.  His nails dug crescents into the insides of his
palms, and he looked Owlman straight in the visor and said, “Because it’s what
you want.”  He could have sworn he felt Owlman smile.
“Interesting.  And what do you want?”
Dick didn’t even flinch, “You.”
The seconds stretched like minutes, and then the knife was back in its sheathe
as quickly as it had left.  “Very well then.  Let’s test your resolve, boy.” 
The next time Dick blinked, he was gone. 
                                       ~
Dick stayed true to his word and said nothing about the sabotaged rope.  Haly
was on edge the next day regardless, rumor was that he had refused to pay off
the Crime Syndicate’s demand for a “protection fee”. Still, no one suspected
the gravity of the situation, no one except Dick.  He watched his parents suit
up, his mother kissed him on the head and told him to finish his homework and
to be in bed by closing.  He gave her all the usual promises and smiles, and
she didn’t suspect a thing.  Neither did John Grayson, who gave his only son a
pat on the back and promised him his own spotlight in the circus next year. 
Dick just smiled and said that he was looking forward to it.
Saying goodbye was a lot easier than he had thought it would be.  It was like
any other day, like they were leaving for the show and would be back in time to
tuck him in.  Only this time they’d never be back.  Dick stayed in the trailer
for a little while.  He thought about packing his things, but life on the road
had left him little to cherish as far as personal possessions went.  Besides,
he didn’t even know that Owlman would actually take him.  He was just some kid,
after all.  In the end he just took a folded up photograph of him and his
parents from a few years back, tucked into his jacket pocket, and headed to the
show.
No one tried to stop him when he entered the tent.  It wasn’t the first time
he’d snuck in to watch his parents perform.  He found a nice spot at the edge
of the bleachers, just far enough out of the ring that he wouldn’t attract
notice, but close enough that he felt as if the towering trapeze ropes were
right above his head.  John and Mary already stood at the top, spotlight on
them and waving to the crowd with big smiles.  They were always the stars of
the show.  Once Haly had made his introductions, all eyes turned to the sky. 
John went first, leaping out and grasping the bar with both hands.  He flew in
an arch high above the ground and when he let go of the bar the audience gasped
and then cheered as his hands made contact with the second swing.  Even Mary
clapped.
Doing a twist mid-air, John turned back around on the swing and rode it back
towards Mary, he flipped at the last moment and caught the first swing bar with
his legs, holding on by the crook of his knees.  As the swing approached the
stand, he held out his hands to Mary.  She jumped and he caught her.  They
started to swing back.  For a brief moment everything was normal.  The ropes
sustained the combined weight of the two acrobats.
Then it snapped.
People screamed.
They Flying Graysons fell.
It was magic.
The thump when they hit the ground was louder and blunter than Dick expected. 
He had expected snapping bones, flesh and body crumpling wetly.  There was none
of that.  There wasn’t even any blood, not at first.  That came seconds later,
pooling out slowly like syrup on pancakes.  Dick just stared at it.  People
were running, screaming, crying.  Someone grabbed Dick by the shoulders and
tried to pull him away.  A moment later they were on the ground with their
throat slashed wide open, and Owlman stood in their place.
He looked down at Dick, but kept his chin up, “You kept your word.  I’d be more
impressed if I thought you were sane.”
“I can do it again,” promised the boy.
He heard Owlman snort, “I only needed to kill your parents once.”
Dick felt his resolve start to crack, fear of being rejected taking over, “I
can be useful.”
“How is a child supposed to be useful to me? Why would I want you?”
The wrinkle in space opened up again.  Dick had never hurt anyone, not
directly, but he knew instantly that he’d do so for Owlman if he was asked,
without even blinking.  “Because,” he licked his dry lips, hoping he didn’t
look half as scared as he felt, “I’ll do anything you ask.”
He could have sworn he felt Owlman’s smile again.
“Very well, boy.  Let’s see how sharp those talons are.”
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