Chapter 1: The Men in Masks

When I was a little girl, I remember that my parents got divorced and I was staying with my mother. I could see that my parents still loved each other deeply, it was just that they had some differences that couldn't be looked over, so they split, and as a result, I began splitting time between them until I was in secondary school. That was when I saw my father less often and more of my mother, and I was beginning to understand why mom left. My father was a businessman working at Wayne Enterprises, but he wouldn't give me an explanation about why he was always so busy, and neither would mom. It was like it was some big secret that I was to never know about. I know that working for Bruce can be difficult, but surely he understands family is important. I can see it hits a soft spot for Bruce whenever it's brought up in interviews. Some don't see it, but I see it in his eyes.

Despite the press' efforts to say he's just a playboy and doesn't seem to care about relationships, no one can clearly see that he does care.

However, it all changed the night my mom died, and my father got full custody of me.

We were on our way home from one of my art shows, and a criminal car hit ours in a pursuit away from the police. The car had swerved and hit the guard rail, and fell from the bridge and into the water. Mother had died on impact from hitting the guard rail, but I was safer sitting in the back of the car, but I didn't leave unharmed. When the car hit us, it hit my side and my leg got pinned by the door, and also broke my leg. I was barely conscious when I felt the pressure on my leg get released, and saw this man in a mask cut my seat belt off before taking me out of the car and then I saw another man in a mask get mother before I blacked out completely.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, my leg in a cast and father sitting by my bed. The look on his face told me everything. Mother was gone. I was only eleven.

It took me three months to fully heal my leg, and for a while, I stopped my artwork. I know father was coping in his own way, and we barely saw each other in the house for a while. Then, after eight months of silence, father broke down and since then, he's done everything he can to be there for me, and I picked up my artwork again, this time capturing the memories that we were making together and the ones that I had of mother, to preserve her memories on canvas.

Now, I'm fifteen and starting high school, and everyday, I can see that I look more and more like mother, and it brings a small tinge of pain when her face flashes through my mind.

"Isabelle, are you ready to leave?" I heard from the other side of my door.

"Just a few moments father," I told him. I went to my closet to gather my bag and art supplies before slipping on my flats. When I left my room and down to the front study, I found father standing by the window and in front of his desk, was a young man, probably my age, standing there. "Hello."

"Isabelle, this is Richard Grayson, he's the son of Bruce," my father said.

"Hello," he said. I gave him a brief smile.

"He's going to accompanying you at school," he said as he walked over to pick up his coat.

"I assured him it wasn't necessary, but then Bruce intervened," Richard said.

"It would give me a sense of security," father said as we left the study. I think this is father's way of saying 'If I'm letting you attend public school, then let me have someone protect you'. I gave father a brief nod and then we got in the car and he drove us to the school.

Gotham City Public High School. That was the sign that I was going to see everyday, five days a week, until the day I graduate.

"Richard, give us a moment, please," father asked.

"Of course," he said and got out of the car.

"Here's some cash, just in case," father said.

"Father," I began to protest.

"This isn't like Smallville Academy, Belle. Please?" he asked me. I nodded and gently took the money from him and placed it in my wallet and then put it and my supplies into my bag. "Alfred, Bruce and Richard's butler will pick you up everyday after school unless I say otherwise."

"Alright," I said, getting ready to leave the car.

"Belle?" my father said, stopping me in my tracks. I turned and looked at him.

"I love you, you know that right?" I smiled and leaned over the seat and gave him a light kiss on his forehead.

"Of course," I said.

"Have a good day at school," he said.

"Thanks," I said, and then got out of the car and watched him pull away.

"Ready to face public school?" Richard asked as I walked to him.

"I guess so," I said and we walked towards the building. When we walked in, everyone turned and stared, particularly at me. "Um, why is everyone staring at me?" I asked him in a hushed tone.

"Well, you're a new girl," he said. "Plus, some thing that I'm a bit of a playboy since I'm 'related' to Bruce. I'm not completely related to the man."

"Well, I did pick that up with your last name," I said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask about them. I know it's a painful subject to discuss."

"Thanks," he said and we came to a stop by an office. "Go on, I'll be right here waiting." I nodded and walked in, and after five minutes, had all my papers and walked out to see Richard talking to another girl and a guy. "Speaking of the newcomer, here she is. Isabelle, this is Catherine and Brooks, my best friends."

"Hello," I said.

"Hi," Catherine said, very bubbly. "You can call me Cat, for short." Brooks gave me a small wave. They are polar opposites.

"So, what's your first class," Richard asked.

"Uh," I looked at the small schedule and briefly smiled. Art. "Art."

"You draw?" Cat asked.

"It's my favorite hobby," I said. "I used to do shows."

"Shows, as in art shows? Wait, what do you mean, used to?" Cat pestered.

"It's a touchy subject, Cat," Richard said and she backed off. "How about the rest of your schedule?"

"Um," I looked at it and then handed it to Richard.

"Well, I think that plays out perfectly," he said. "We have the same classes together after art." Cat snatched it from him.

"Not fair, I only get to see her during lunch," she said. "Dick, you're a lucky guy."

"I think Bruce has something to do with his schedule," Brooks said.

"Actually, more like my father," I said. Cat and Brooks looked confused. "It's a long story."

"Well, we've got time," Cat started as the bell rang. "Damn it."

"Saved by the bell, literally," Brooks said. "We'll catch you at lunch."

"So, they nicknamed you Dick?" I asked him as we walked to the art building.

"Yeah," he said. "I was never too fond of it until I realized that it didn't matter to me anymore."

"Are you going to be late to your first class?"

"I don't have a first class," he said. "Normally I'm sleeping at this time, but because of Bruce and your father, that changed."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "Really, you don't have to actually accompany me around."

"It's okay. I don't mind, really," he said. "Gives me the perfect excuse every morning to get up and look pretty for a beautiful girl."

"You're just saying that so you can get in my pants later, aren't you Grayson?"

"Ouch, you wound me girl," he said, lightly smiling. "I would love to try and get in your pants, but I do have manners, and would only do so if you gave me the permission. Plus, we're not even dating." Though I'd love to date you, is what I thought I heard under his breath.

"Hey Grayson?" I said to him before I entered the room.

"Yeah?"

"Pick a day, and we'll go on a date," I said, lightly smiling. He smiled and nodded. "See you after class."

… Three years later…

Being with Dick has been strange sometimes. There would be days where he'd come to school limping and with a few bruises. Whenever I'd ask him how he got hurt, he'd always so it was just him, Tim and Jason doing kick boxing and martial arts, and I believe him… Mostly.

Having graduated high school a full year early, I now spend my time looking into colleges and what kind of career that I want to have.

"Isabelle, are you sure I can't convince you to come to this dinner?" father asked me one night. It was finally reaching the cooler temperatures and that only meant one thing: fall was going to be among us soon.

"Sorry, father," I said. "I'd much rather stay home tonight."

"Painting under the moonlight again?" he asked and I nodded. "Ever consider selling your art?"

"I have, but I'd be very picky about which ones I'd sell, because most are my memories with mother," I said.

"Well, if we set all those aside, would you send in commissions?"

"Maybe," I said. He lightly nodded.

"Alright, well, I'll see you after this company dinner, okay?"

"Sounds good," I said. I gave him a brief hug and then he left. I gathered my supplies and began to sketch out what I was going to paint later; a portrait of Richard. The one thing I loved capturing was his eyes. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen, so when I sketch him, I always put the focus on his eyes. I put on my paint sweater and went to my room and set up the supplies as my phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered as I set the easel and supplies up.

"Hi, babe," Dick said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," I said. "Father just left and I'm about to start painting. What about you?"

"Capturing me on canvas this time?" he asked.

"Maybe," I said, smiling.

"Well, I'd love to see the finished product when it's done," he said. "To answer your other question, I'm doing okay, Bruce is sending me to that damn company dinner."

"Sorry that I'm not going," I said as I began to sketch.

"That's alright. I'm pretty sure that you'd fall asleep as soon as they begin the speeches, so you're saving yourself that," he said. I lightly laughed.

"I think my father's dragged me to enough company dinners," I said. "I know he hates fighting me about going, so he gives up. It was the same way with my mother." We talked for another fifteen minutes before he had to get off the phone. After ending the call, I focused on the painting. An hour later, the breaking of glass got my attention. I dialed my father's number as I set my supplies down.

"Belle,"

"Father, I think there's someone in the house," I said. "Glass was just broken somewhere."

"Belle, I want you to hide," my father told me as these men burst into my room. "Belle," I dropped my phone and knocked one man out.

"No one said she knew how to knock us out," one man called out. Gym glass was actually paying off now.

"You don't know me," I said, blocking another hit. I eventually knocked the other two men out and grabbing my phone, ran out of my room and to the study.

"Belle, stay put. The police are on their way and so am I," the line dropped. Shit. I turned my phone off as someone kicked my legs out from under me. When I hit the floor, I felt the air get knocked out of me, but before the man could get another hit, I rolled away and jumped up.

"Damn, you just won't stay down, will you?"

"Not a chance," I said. I took multiple blows as I fought off numerous men, including a couple of stab wounds, and one even manged to shoot me as a familiar face came into sight.

"Guys, it's Nightwing, run!" the men began to scatter as Nightwing walked over to me.

"You've put up one hell of a fight against those men," he said as he looked me over. I could feel the exhaustion setting in, and as he opened his mouth to say something else, I collapsed from the blood loss. "Come on Belle, stay with me." how did he know my name? Too weak to ask, I let the exhaustion take over, and I blacked out.

When I finally regained consciousness, I was in the hospital. I wasn't surprised about that, but I was surprised that it wasn't father next to my hospital bed, but it was Dick.

"Dick?" I mumbled, getting his attention. He opened his eyes and stretched before he saw that I was awake.

"Hey, glad you're awake," he said as he gently sat on the edge of my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I said.

"Well, you lost a lot of blood from the stab wounds and the gunshot," he said. "They say that it'll be a few days before you can start doing any physical therapy." I lightly nodded.

"My father?"

"He's home, resting. You've been out for two days and Bruce and I sent him home to get rest," he said. I can't help but wonder if Dick is hiding something from me. "What's going through that mind of yours?"

"Something seems off to me, is all," I said. "Don't worry about it. I'm okay."

"Well, if you say so," he said, giving my hand a light squeeze. A few weeks later, I'm almost fully recovered, which is a lot faster than the doctors thought about my healing process, and after another few weeks of physical therapy, I was fully recovered.

"Hey, Belle, you have a visitor," my father said early one morning. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get to painting. I finished the canvas painting of Dick, and I love the way it turned out. Now I'm working on a painting of Nightwing, based from my memory of when I saw him before I passed out almost two months ago from that incident. He was also one of the men who saved me when my mother died in the car accident. I gave him a light nod and then I went back to my painting.

"Should I be jealous?" I heard, making me smile.

"No," I said, slightly turning as Dick wrapped his arms around my waist. "I'm simply painting what comes from memories."

"How many times have you seen him?"

"Twice," I said, setting the paint down.

"He was there that night your mother died, wasn't he?" he asked lightly.

"Yeah," I said. "I don't blame him or Batman about my mother's death. I blame the criminals that crashed into the car that gave her that fast death. She had so much time left."

"Those criminals are locked up now, right?"

"A few got the death penalty, a few others are locked up," I said as I gently broke through his arms to wash the paint off my hands.

"You're missing a few details from my painting," Dick said as I dried my hands.

"I never said it was perfect, babe," I said as I stood next to him, admiring the painting. "Don't tell me you're a perfectionist."

"Nah, I'm no art critic," he said. "But you did a wonderful job with this piece of me."

"Thanks," I said.

"If I gave you a photo, would you be able to paint it?"

"Yeah," I said. "How big do you want the painting?"

"Would it be too much if it was the size of Bruce's family photo of him and his parents?"

I let out a breath. "That big?"

"It's a photo of Tim, Jason, Damien, Bruce, Alfred and I," he said. "Bruce was complaining to Alfred the other day how his study doesn't have a portrait on the wall, so he thinks his study is bland. I talked to Alfred and told him to hold off on hiring a painter because I wanted to ask you." I smiled, my face flushing a light pink.

"I'd love to," I said. "We just have to find enough space for me to actually paint it and get a big canvas and paint,"

"I can take you right now," he said. "As for the space, I can let you use my apartment in Bludhaven."

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

"Of course," he said. "It'll give me a great excuse to get away from the manor more often." I smiled.

"School?"

"Online courses," he said. Cat and Brooks graduated early too, and they went overseas to study abroad for college, so Dick and I are here back in Gotham. "Come on. Looks like you could use the break." I smiled and we left the manor. We bought the supplies I was going to need and then we went to have lunch, and then we went to Wayne manor to get the photo. Bruce wasn't home, which meant he was probably at Wayne Tower working, and father was probably there as well.

After three weeks, I was done with the painting, and Dick and I presented it to Bruce as an early Christmas gift.

"My god, I thought this was just it was the photo just blown to a larger scale," Bruce said. "George, your daughter has a wonderful gift." I smiled and father gave me a light hug before Bruce pulled me into a hug. "Thank you, Belle. Really."

"It was Dick's idea," I said. "I can't take all the credit,"

"Oh hush babe," he said. "Take the credit, you deserve it." I smiled as everyone admired the painting. Even Damien, who isn't so happy towards others, was in awe.

"Dick," Bruce said, but the look on his face turned serious.

"Right, come on Belle," he said.

"What's wrong?" I asked him as he walked me out of the study.

"There's something you need to see," he said, an unreadable expression on his face. "It's something I've been wanting to tell you for years, but I've fought Bruce with it numerous times until today."

"Dick?"

"You have to promise me that you aren't going to be mad at any of us, including your father," he said.

"Wait, my father knows something about whatever is going on?" I asked him as we walked down a set of stairs to another door. "Where are we?"

"A secret life," he said as the doors opened. I slowly followed behind him and then stood shocked.

"Is this," I stopped.

"It is," he said, a pained look on his face. "I wanted to tell you so long ago, but Bruce never allowed it." I felt angry, hurt, just so many emotions running through me. "Belle?"

"I just need some time alone," I said, turning and walking back up. So much about trust in a relationship. I walked to the back of Wayne Manor and walked through the gardens, just clearing my mind. I don't hold my anger for long, and decided it was time to head back in since it was also really cold outside.

"Miss Belle?" it was Alfred. He had a blanket in one arm and a cup of hot tea in the other.

"Thanks, Alfred," I said, and gently took the blanket from him. "I'm guessing they're gone?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and handed me the tea. "You're more than welcome to join me in the Batcave." I nodded and followed behind him. "Your father feels guilty that he never told you, as does Master Grayson."

"After all these years, and Bruce never trusted me with this information," I said. "Why?"

"Because he does have trust issues, miss," he said. "It took years before he told your father."

"Did my mother ever know?"

"She did," he said. I lightly nodded. "But I will say that Master Grayson fought everyday to tell you."

"Thanks, Alfred," I said. A couple of hours later, a man in a wrestling mask broke into the cave. "Alfred?"

"And here I thought he was alone," the man said. I dodged a fist only to be kicked down by the same man. I painfully got to my feet as Alfred was fending the man off as well, but after a while, he couldn't, and neither could I. I was too weak, and this time, I don't think I was going to be lucky to make it.

"You're too late, Bruce," the man said. "Neither may make it." the man's laughter filled the air before it faded and it was silent. In my blurry vision, I could briefly make out Alfred's body, but I was too weak to move, and I gave in to the numbing pain as I heard voices calling for us.

"Dick," I softly mumbled.

"I can't find her!" I heard him yell. I'm here, Richard.

"There!" I finally heard, and that's when I gave in to the pain, letting my vision go dark.

"She's got a very faint heartbeat, Dick."

"She can't die, Jason."

"We need to drain the fluid from her lungs. That'll kill her first before the loss of blood does." From where I was watching, I could see Jason moving quick to drain the fluid from my lungs, and when I glanced over at Alfred, he was already back on his feet. Damn, he's quick to recover.

"She's still got feint breathing." Is this it?

"No, my child, it's not." I turned around and stood shocked.

"Mother?"

"Hello, my daughter," she said.

"How?"

"Think of me being your guardian angel," she said. I gave her a tight hug. "I've missed you."

"So have I," I said, my tears falling. "So much. It's not fair."

"I know, child, I know," she said. "But we can't undo the past."

"I wish we could," I said.

"Come on, Belle, please come back to me," Dick said, his face pained. "I don't want the last thing on my mind be about how upset I made you about the secret."

"I'm sorry we never told you," mother said. "When I died, Bruce thought it was because he thought that we told you and that the criminals found out. It's why he thought that I was killed."

"But I never knew," I said, wanting to yell.

"I know, dear, but you have to remember, Bruce isn't the type to be very open," she said. "I've watched his arguments with Richard, and when Richard brought up that you would have confronted them about their identities, Bruce finally shut up and gave him the okay." I lightly nodded as father came into the cave.

"Before I go back, would you have gotten back with father?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said. "We were in the process of working things out the night I died. We had even brought up the topic of getting remarried." I felt my heart pull towards her. "Tell him that I wish for him to be able to move on?" I nodded.

"Of course," I said, giving her another hug.

"Remember, I'll always be watching over you and everyone else," she said as she stepped back.

"Goodbye, mother," I said.

"Goodbye, Isabelle," she said, her voice fading and other voices fading in.

"God, I'm so sorry, Isabelle," I heard Dick say.

"You're forgiven," I said, my voice breaking due to the dryness of my throat. I managed to open my eyes and he sighed before gently helping me drink some water. To be honest, this is the worst I've ever felt; it feels like a damn train ran me over. "I'm not mad, anymore."

"You know I'm going to be saying 'I'm sorry' a lot, right?" I nodded and he lightly laughed as he gently squeezed my hand.

"Did you guys catch him?"

"We did," he said. "There's no way he'll ever get out."

"My father?"

"Bruce is keeping him at Wayne Manor, to keep him calm," he said. "Your father was broken down when you were in the hospital from the car accident, so we're keeping these images from him until you're mostly better."

"Okay," I said. After a few weeks in the hospital, Dick brought me to his apartment in Bludhaven, where the both of us were going to be living for a while. It also gave father a sense of peace, knowing that I'd be a bit safer than being in Gotham.