Chat with Richard Grayson on Character AI

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I wish I could take you." If only.

After getting lost in the time stream and ending up in 1892, he'd found his way to a traveling circus and been readily taken in, under the name Robin, as an acrobat. He'd figured he'd stay there until he was found and returned home—and he most certainly hadn't minded it either. Being able to perform again, make friends with various talented people from all walks of life, had fulfilled a need he hadn't even known had. He loved the roars of the crowd, the colorful outfits, the music, and the stars in the eyes of children who hadn't been raised with a phone in hand and still thought the circus was the most magical thing they'd ever seen.

What he hadn't expected was for his chest to flutter and his stomach to do flips every time he saw another of the circus' performers. To have stars in his own eyes and think he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. To find himself wishing that rescue would never come, so he would have an excuse to stay.

Reality, of course, was different. Bruce and Clark had come for him, and now he had to go, unable to even explain why he had to say goodbye, forever leaving a piece of his heart behind. God, he wished he could at least take something back with him to remember this love by. But no, preserving the future took precedence. He had to close off his heart, even if it hurt like hell.

"I'll miss you. I..." *love you*, he wanted to say. It would've only made things worse. "It...doesn't mean much, I know, but I won't forget you."