a traumatic night at the circus ~~~ beatrice martha wayne
synopsis: beatrice wayne kidnaps dick grayson
Content: female bruce wayne (beatrice wayne), alternate universe, child dick grayson, mama bear bruce wayne, protective bruce wayne, hurt/comfort, angst
warnings: parental death, trauma, grief
It was an unusually cool night in Gotham. Beatrice had wrapped herself in a white cashmere coat to ward off the bite of the city's air, her hair bouncing around her shoulders in a perfect blowout as she walked toward the circus. The lights of Haly’s Circus cut through the smog-filled sky, bright enough to alert everyone in a fifteen-mile radius of its arrival.
The circus used to be magical for Beatrice, a place vibrant with colour, joy, and warmth. It was a Wayne family tradition to attend at least twice a year. She vividly remembered the times her parents would leave work early just to take her. They would share a bag of peanuts and popcorn, and her father would always sneak her a stick of sweet pink cotton candy behind her mother’s back. To honour that memory, Beatrice made sure to return at least once a year. Some years were harder than others, the weight of her grief making it difficult to drag herself there, yet she always forced herself to go.
Everyone in Gotham knew Beatrice would be there; she never missed opening night. A few people still gawked as her heels clicked against the cobblestone, but most acknowledged her with a small smile or a nod, which she returned with practiced sweetness.
She stopped to buy a small bag of roasted peanuts before heading to her usual spot at the top of the stands in the back. Almost immediately, the show commenced, flashing bright lights across the massive tent. To Beatrice, the lights didn’t seem nearly as bright as they used to, not without her parents, not without their shoulders pressed against hers. Still, she watched as the ringmaster took the center ring, announcing in a booming, dramatic voice: “WELCOME, THE FLYING GRAYSONS!”
The curtain parted to reveal two adults and a young child. A family. They waved and smiled from high up on the platform.
Their act began. The two adults leaped from the platform, flying gracefully between the trapeze bars until-
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Beatrice stood instantly. For a fraction of a second, she froze, ripped backward in time to a dark alley outside the opera house, standing alone and crying over her murdered parents. Then, the illusion shattered. She was back at the circus, looking down at a young boy standing over his dead parents.
Instinct took over. Beatrice raced out of her seat and sprinted down to the arena floor. She rushed in front of the young boy, whose eyes were locked in horror on the bodies lying in the dirt.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft, calm, and deliberate as she crouched in front of him, forcing his attention away from the tragedy. His eyes tried to drift back, but she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. “Hey, don’t look,” she urged softly, holding his gaze. “Let’s go have a seat over there, okay?”
The boy nodded slowly. He reached out and grabbed Beatrice’s hand as she led him to two seats facing away from the ring.
Within moments, the distant wail of sirens pierced the air, growing louder as police cars and an ambulance raced toward the circus. It took only minutes for the crime scene to be swarming with investigators and detectives. When Captain Jim Gordon finally approached the silent duo, Beatrice was sitting close to the boy, Dick Grayson, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“Miss Wayne,” Gordon called out, approaching them. Dick quickly wiped his tears at the sound of the detective's voice.
“Captain,” Beatrice said, offering a small, tired smile.
“I need to talk with the boy.” Gordon’s voice was gentle but direct.
“Of course,” Beatrice replied, preparing to stand and give them space. But Dick’s hand shot out, gripping her fingers tightly.
“Can you stay?” he asked. His blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he looked up at her.
Beatrice’s heart melted. Every protective instinct she possessed flared to life. She immediately sank back into the seat beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around his trembling shoulders. “Of course.”
She sat patiently as Gordon questioned the boy. Dick answered the best he could, his voice cracking as he told the captain about a man who had fought with Mr. Haly before the show and left right before the act. When the tears returned to the boy's eyes, Beatrice decided she had heard enough.
“I think that is enough for now, Captain,” she said lightly. Her tone was soft, yet it carried an undeniable edge of command.
Gordon stopped mid-question, glancing at the fragile boy before clearing his throat. “You’re right. Social services and CPS will be here soon to take him to an orphanage or a foster home, wherever has room.”
As Gordon turned to walk away, a spark ignited in Beatrice’s chest. She rose quickly, following after him. “I can take him in.”
The captain paused, turning back to her with raised eyebrows. “That’s a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”
Beatrice straightened her spine, exuding a sharp, unyielding confidence. “Why is that? I am more than capable of taking care of him. I have more than enough room, food, and a proper home.”
“Look, Miss Wayne. It’s not my decision to make; you’ll have to talk to social services,” Gordon said, letting out a heavy sigh. “But I’ll tell you this now. It’s unlikely they’ll let a playgirl socialite take in a ten-year-old. I’m just being honest.” He turned and walked away into the chaos of the crime scene.
Beatrice stood frozen for a moment, Gordon's words stinging. She looked back at Dick, who was sitting all alone with his head buried in his hands. Shaking off the insult, she walked back and took her seat beside him once more. There was no way in hell she was leaving this boy alone with the police.
They sat in silence, waiting for social services, when Beatrice felt the boy's heavy head lean over and rest against her arm. She looked down at him, her expression softening into a sad, protective smile.
Social services approached the duo a few moments later. Beatrice shot up before they could fully reach the seats, intercepting the lead social worker and stopping him in his tracks before he could get anywhere near Dick.
“Hello, Miss Wayne,” the man said, adjusting his briefcase. “I’m Josh. I’m the social worker assigned to this case.”
Beatrice smiled brightly, doing her best to project a friendly, approachable warmth despite the grim circumstances. “Hello,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. “I was hoping to speak with you for a moment.”
The social worker nodded, a hint of confusion crossing his face, but Beatrice didn't waste any time. She jumped right into it.
“I would like to take in Dick Grayson.”
“Miss Wayne-” Josh started, his tone already signalling a rejection, but Beatrice smoothly interjected.
“I have more than enough room, plenty of food, and a large yard-”
“It’s not just about that, Miss Wayne,” Josh interrupted this time. The practiced smile on Beatrice’s face faltered for a fraction of a second before she forced it back up. “You live an incredibly public life. You’re everywhere in the media, and you have absolutely no parental experience. To be frank, your lifestyle is unstable, and you are currently unequipped to take care of a traumatized child.”
Beatrice flinched internally. Then, the polite facade shattered completely. Her smile dropped, replaced by a cold, hard expression of pure fury.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet octave. “I am Beatrice Wayne. I practically own this city. I fund your department, and I personally finance every orphanage and group home in Gotham. I know the exact conditions they are in, despite my financial help. They are overcrowded and understaffed. I am more than capable of taking care of a young boy.
She took a sharp, steadying breath, stepping closer to him. “I understand exactly how the media views me, Josh. But I also understand what that boy is going through. I know exactly what he needs in this exact moment, and it certainly isn’t a rowdy, crowded orphanage.”
Josh stared at her, stunned. Conflict raced across his face as he weighed her determination against her public reputation.
“Let’s talk with the boy before we make any decisions,” Josh finally conceded.
They walked back over to Dick, whose head was buried in his hands once more. Beatrice crouched down in front of him, lightly touching his shoulder.
“Dick?” Her voice was instantly soft again, a gentle smile returning to her face as he looked up. “Would you like to come live with me?”
Dick’s blue eyes widened in surprise.
“Your only other option right now is the orphanage,” Josh added bluntly from behind her.
Beatrice whipped her head around and glared at the man. Could he be any harsher?
“I-” Dick started, looking back and forth between the social worker and Beatrice’s warm, kind eyes. “I’d like to live with you.”
Beatrice smiled, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, while the social worker exchanged a defeated sigh. Helping Dick to his feet, Beatrice slipped off her coat and wrapped it securely around his small shoulders to shield him from the biting air.
“We will have to conduct monthly visits and house inspections,” Josh began, but Beatrice was already guiding Dick away, her arm wrapped protectively around his shoulder. “Miss Wayne!” Josh called out, quickening his pace to keep up with her long strides. “There is paperwork you need to fill out, and we legally need to inspect your home first!”
She kept walking toward the curb, where a sleek black car was already waiting, the engine idling. Alfred stood right outside the passenger door, his expression stoic but alert.
Beatrice gently helped Dick into the back seat first, ensuring he was safe and warm inside before she turned around to face the breathless social worker.
“You know where I live,” she said with a sharp, victorious smile, and hopped into the car.
The interior of the vehicle was dead silent as Alfred pulled away from the circus grounds and merged into the Gotham traffic. After a few minutes, Alfred finally broke the silence, his eyes catching Beatrice's in the rearview mirror.
“And who do we have joining us this evening, Miss Beatrice?” he asked softly.
Beatrice looked down at Dick, offering him a genuine, radiant smile, the kind of smile Alfred hadn’t seen on her face in a very long time.
“This is Dick,” she stated, looking back up to meet the eyes of her trusted butler. “He’ll be staying with us for a while.”
a/n: This fic is based on all Batman media, meaning it may be comic-accurate at times, show-accurate, or movie-accurate. It will also be for a lot of it, completely made up and my own idea, as this is my version of Bruce Wayne as a woman. If that is not something you want to read, I completely respect that
Additionally, I will start this series with a base set of fics to establish the background, characters, and relationships. Later, once the whole story is set, I will add additional one-shots and drabbles for this universe. I just wanted to give you guys an understanding of where this series/universe will eventually go. I am also open to requests regarding this series.
izzy806
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
jacobvanloon
romaincrisis
kaledo-art
