AN: OHMYGOSH! You guys don't know how long I have been waiting to get to this part! I've been writing this story since about August or September but it seems so new. Now that I'm at the actual end of the first half I just can't believe all I've accomplished here. I never thought I'd get this far, and to be truthful, this is the long thing I've ever written continuously in my entire life. On paper this is 309 pages long. And part two is supposed to be just as long as part one, so we're looking at like a 600 page novel here. I don't want to curse myself, but I've got a nasty habit of starting things and never finishing them, but I will try my hardest to finish this story. I owe it myself and I owe it to all you faithful readers who have helped me with my first story on . So I cannot thank you enough. Without further ado, I give you the final installment of part one, please read, enjoy, and review :D

Tying Up Loose Ends

When I woke up I was vaguely aware that my tongue was dry and my hair was knotted and matted in my face, but I was mostly focusing on the fact that everything hurt. My back and arms were wrapped tightly with stiff gauze. My nose ached and when I lifted an arm to touch it, my nose stung harshly, the area around it an my eyes was extremely puffy and I could feel a slight kink in the bone where it must've been reset. I took a deep breath to sigh in fatigue, feeling the pain of a surely broken rib in my chest. I groaned a bit to myself, leaning over to feel what was going on with the stitches in my leg. They seemed to be neater than the ones Robin had done, leading me to believe they'd been redone.

"Great," I said hoarsely. At first I was shocked at my voice, then I realized how Fincher had choked me last night. Of course. I sat up on my forearms, wincing as I did so, looking down at my body. I was wearing a Gotham Academy sweatshirt and my legs were covered with a thick blanket, both of which I was sure didn't belong to me. I slipped my legs out from under the blanket, putting my bare feet on the cool tile floor. The room I was in was dimly lit to where I could see large cabinets, a long metal table, and a door at the other end. Making up my mind, I headed to the door with careful, staggered steps.

It wasn't until I pushed open the door to see a large cavernous expansion that I realized I was in the Batcave. I'd heard rumors about the mysterious place, hearing that no one was ever allowed in but if Batman ever took you inside you would never see the light of day again. I had always rolled my eyes at the silly horror stories that made Batman sound like a specter to college kids in a rural town or something, but when I stumbled while walking farther into the depths of the cave and nearly plummeted into a great, dark abyss, I was finding that it was getting easier and easier to believe in the ghost-like tales of the Dark Knight.

After a while I found myself in the midst of the Batcave. There was a large computer console with a single leather chair seated in front of it, a circular platform with the Batmobile parked on it, and, what caught my eye the most, a display area where a few of the compartments held costumes. One was an earlier looking version of the Batman costume where the coloring was more blue and grey than all black. The next held a significantly smaller costume made up of a bright red tunic with green sleeves, a canary yellow cape and green gloves, boots, and… green panties? I couldn't help myself as I let out a loud laugh, quickly followed by a yelp of pain. Note to self: Don't laugh with a broken rib. Injuries aside, I still couldn't believe Dick had worn small green underoos in his early days as Robin. How could I have forgotten something like that from when the Bo Wonder had started working beside the Dark Knight?

Because of my rib, I resorted to lightly chuckling to myself. But it wasn't until I go to the next costume that was displayed that I really hurt myself as I took in some air for the purpose of a gasp. My lung screamed in pain but I ignored it, looking at the suit displayed before me. It was my suit, Owlet's suit, with a bright light shining on it, showing the sewn up rip on the right arm with an accompanying bloodstain, the case being the same with the right leg. I opened up the glass door to the case, turning the mannequin holding the suit so I could see the tattered and blood stained back. In a sort of shocked silence I turned the mannequin back, closing the glass pane and staggering back a few steps. I had suffered such intense injuries, not just last night, but in the last two weeks, that it was surprising I was even standing here today at all. I couldn't help but wonder what had kept me alive. My stamina? My instincts? Sheer, dumb luck? Whatever the case I was eternally grateful and slightly frightened. Grateful because this unseen force had helped me avenge my parents by capturing Fincher. Frightened because I didn't know if this helpful force would disappear one day or if it came with a cost I wasn't willing to pay.

I was pulled from my thoughts as a loud snapping sound reverberated throughout the cave. I recognized it immediately as the sound of a grappling hook catching a target, followed by the cord going taut. I looked up to see Robin swooping out of the shadows , letting go of the grappling hook at its peak swing. He flipped expertly through the air, landing in front of me with a slight smirk on his face.

"I take it these are yours?" I asked, pretending to completely ignore that he was Robin, gesturing to the sweatshirt and pajama pants I was wearing. Though I couldn't see his eyes I knew he was rolling them at me.

"After we find out each other's secret identities and alter egos and took down the guy who murdered your parents and patched you up from almost certain death, the first thing you ask me about is if that's my sweatshirt?" he asked with a slight sigh in his voice.

"I thought I'd make a bit of casual conversation before heading into the heavy stuff, like how you tricked me when I was Mona and you were Robin and you never told, or how you were such a fucking jerk to Owlet even when she hadn't done anything to you, or even about how short-tempered you were with me at the restaurant at lunch on Friday when I'd asked an innocent question. For your information, your initial reaction at lunch led me closer to believing that you were Robin, so you've only got yourself to blame that I found out. Now would you like to continue this conversation or go back to the topic of the sweatshirt?" I cocked an eyebrow, challenging him.

"I didn't trick you," he said softly, averting his gaze and walking past me to what seemed to be a high tech closet. His reaction shocked me. I would've thought after my outburst he would've been angry, but his voice only held a guilty sadness. "At least, I didn't mean to."

"Could've fooled me," I said sourly, following his slowly retreating form with my eyes. He began to take off various aspects of his Robin costume. First the cape, then the utility belt, soon followed by the red tunic to show a black undershirt that hugged his lithe and slightly muscled frame. Dick ran a hand through his hair, something I noticed he did a lot. He now stood before in all black clothes with his domino mask, showing off his toned body while hiding his identity. I got a better look at him with the mask still on, amazed at how I never saw the obvious parallels before. I suppose since I never gave serious thoughts to the idea of Dick being Robin I never tried to link them, besides the time in the car a few days ago. I guess that's why they don't call me the Greatest Detective in the World.

"You tricked me," he pointed out, silently referring to how I'd led him to believe some random vigilante had figured out his identity.

"You deserved it. You were being all high and mighty, Mr. Conceited Masked Hero. Someone needed to knock you off your pedestal and I was the only candidate."

"The cases are completely different," he argued, finally slipping off the black mask with a few spritz of solvent, letting his blue eyes be seen. "I was trying to protect you, you were trying to get back at me."

"I don't think they're all that different. We both had something to hide and even though we may have trusted each other to a point as Mona and Dick, this was too big of a secret to share. We were protecting our identities as well as ourselves. If, say, the Joker caught wind of Robin and Owlet being buddy-buddy he could've somehow used it against us and someone's secret identity could've slipped out in the process and our normal personas could've been targeted."

"You're making this sound far too simple, Mona. It's not just costumes and crime fighting. Lives are at stake here."

"You think I of all people don't know that, Dick? My parents died two years ago, sending me down this path where I nearly died yesterday. I understand that lives are at stake, not only mine or yours but the actual innocents of Gotham City that we need to protect. That night at the cemetery a few days ago, I subconsciously made a promise to myself. I made a promise on the grave of my parents I would rid this city of the evil that took their lives. I'm not going to sit around now that Fincher has been caught." I gave him a little glare before going on. "Besides, this is simple. Owlet could help Batman and Robin; another set of eyes never hurt anyone before. I could help you guys and help myself, it'd be like killing two birds with one stone." I paused and thought about it for a second. "No, sorry, that's a terrible analogy, considering robins and owls are birds."

"This isn't a game, Mona."

"When have I ever treated this like a game, Dick? From the beginning this was serious, I was serious. And I still am. I can channel my seriousness to kicking ass to the other criminals of Gotham City, costumed or otherwise."

"Enough," a voice spoke up, interrupting Dick as he was about to retort. We both looked up to see Batman standing before us, but for the first time ever I saw him without his cowl, revealing the contoured face of millionaire play-boy Bruce Wayne. I blanched for a moment, feeling awkward and insignificant in front of the two scariest men I knew, Bats and Bruce. It only made sense Bruce was Batman, who else could've been intimidating enough to pull off the Dark Knight persona? Bruce had the means, the abilities, and the drive to parade around Gotham as the Caped Crusader.

"How long did you know?" I blurted, unable to help myself as the words tumbled from my lips. "How long have you known Owlet was Mona?"

A frown found its way onto the millionaire's face, creases deepening in worry and thought along his forehead and mouth. "In the beginning you were on the initial list of suspects, but I didn't have enough evidence to narrow it down to you, besides the fact it would've been all too easy for you to have gotten that suit from your parents, though I never remembered them mentioning it. I knew for sure that night at the bank, when you directly quoted something only Mona Ryder would've known I'd said."

"So if you knew who I was why did you let me continue to strike against Fincher?" I cocked an eyebrow, looking up at the inspirational yet fear inducing man. He sighed heavily, turning from me to go to the same closet type thing Robin had gone to.

"I knew you as a kid, Mona, and you were always so full of light and life. It wasn't until the death of your parents that you lost your zeal, your spirit. It only made sense that you'd take revenge on someone who deserved it as well as for people who couldn't administer it for themselves. I did a little digging on Jerome Fincher and found he'd been accused of many crimes, from murder to embezzling though no one seemed to be able to pin him with the crime." Bruce turned, giving me a pointed look. "At least, not till Owlet came along."

"So are you going to let me continue to crime fight? I think I at least deserve a chance." I tried to ignore Dick as he rolled his eyes at me.

"You don't even have a suit to use anymore, Mona. You can't fight crime in jeans and a t-shit," Dick snorted as he stretched, letting an evening of fighting and tight muscles flow from him.

"I'll make another one. I'll use that one, I'll wear something else, I'll use that," I said evilly, pointing at Robin's old costume with the small green panties. "I'm sure I could squeeze into it." A look of aghast shock passed of Dick's face before turning into a deep glare.

"I don't think that'll be necessary." Bruce emerged from the uniform closet, holding a bundle of charcoal grey, almost black, fabric. It was folded up in his arms with a matching cowl and utility belt stacked atop it. I felt my jaw go slack as I stumbled forward to take the bundle from his hands.

It was like I was 13 again, back in my parent's lab as I saw the owl suit for the first time. I gripped it gingerly by the shoulders, letting it hang down in front of me. I could feel how much thicker the material was than the previous suit, thicker yet just as light. I examined it with amazed eyes, letting my fingers feel the armor-like padding on the torso, most likely bullet-proof. And on the left side of the torso there was a single golden "O" that looked to be made from textured feathers.

"Bruce…" I choked out, close to tears as I looked up at the man. As fast as my body would allow me, I ran forward, pitching myself into a hug. He seemed utterly shocked for a moment before awkwardly hugging me back, embracing me like a father would.

"I can't thank you enough," I whispered tearfully into his chest. He patted my back softly, minding my injuries.

"Of course you can," he replied gruffly, almost sounding close to tears himself though I knew it couldn't have been possible. I mean, c'mon, he's the goddamed Batman. "Just promise you won't go out as Owlet until you're fully healed. If you go out now you'll only succeed in getting yourself killed."

"I promise!" I said wildly, looking up at him. "I swear! I won't let you down, Bruce."

"Good." He awkwardly retreated from the hug, leaving the cowl and utility belt on a nearby work table before melting into the shadows of the cave, leaving me alone with Dick.

For a few moments it was utterly silent, not quite uncomfortable or threatening, just uncertain. It couldn't have been any more obvious that either of us had no idea where to start. Ignore our problems, bury them under an unsuspecting looking friendship and forget the way we thought we felt about one another? Or do we face the ugly truths and possibly sacrifice a friendship in the process (and that's not even including the way Bruce will react once we reach a final decision). I gently folded up the suit, putting it on the table next to the rest of the new Owlet suit. I wouldn't need it for a while, so I might as well leave it here with Bruce. It'd be too much of a temptation if I kept it, and there was always a chance I'd break something in the utility belt or the cowl. With a small little sigh I leaned up against the table, shyly looking over at Dick. He was looking back, some undetectable feeling being portrayed in his clear blue eyes.

"Why does it seem like everything is spilling out at once?" Dick questioned, almost directly quoting me from when Robin and Mona had first met. I gave him a smile that he easily matched. It was obvious which road we'd be going down now.

"Because we're facing it instead of ignoring it," I replied quietly, slowly making my way over to him. After a moment of hesitation we met one another in a close embrace, me burying my face in his chest as he hugged me closer, his arms around my shoulders. I could feel his head resting on my own. "Words of wisdom, Richard."

"Very true, Mona," he replied softly, his breath stirring my hair. "I'm sorry, about everything, by the way. I didn't know it would turn out this way."

"What way? You and me finding out we're secret vigilantes in a crime-ridden city like Gotham? I don't think either of us intended for that to happen," I gave a slight hiccup of a chuckle, ignoring the pain in my chest.

"Good point," he agreed quietly. "Regardless of that, we need to talk, Mona. I don't want to skirt around this anymore."

"So we'll set up a date." I grinned, looking at him. "And then we'll talk about what we're going to do about Dick and Mona as well as Robin and Owlet. Deal?"

"Deal."

"But right now I have to go, things to do, people to see, places to go." I broke away from him. "Someone like Boy Wonder understands that, right?"

"Yea, I get it." He gave me a supporting smile and I knew that he really did get it.

"I can take you wherever you need to go, Miss," Alfred said, walking stiffly from the shadows like the dutiful butler we all knew he was. I had a feeling he'd been watching the entire Bruce/Mona/Dick conversation but I didn't mind.

"I'm liking hanging out around her," I said, gesturing to the Batcave with a smile, following Alfred up a hidden set of stairs, making my way out of the secret headquarters of the Dark Knight.

(PUT A LINE BREAK HERE!)

"You've got guts, Ryder. No one can doubt that," Selina told me, setting down a bowl of piping hot mac and cheese in front of me on the coffee table in her small living room. I smiled to myself, gratefully eating the hot food. It was like she knew I was coming and made mac and cheese just like the first time I'd been to her apartment.

"I'm just worried he's going to tell who I am. I'm not sure I can live without Owlet these days," I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"I doubt you'll have to worry about him," she answered in her usual detached way. Not for the first time I wondered if there was a box she was missing in her attic (i.e.: kinda crazy).

"Why? If I were him I'd want revenge and he knows my identity," I argued, picking up the brown cat that slunk by my feet.

"Mona, honey, who would want to admit a teenage girl single-handedly toppled them from their crime throne? Especially if your ego is as big as Metropolis and you're a grown man used to getting what he wants. Your secret identity should be completely safe, Ryder."

"I hope you're right, Selina," I replied, my voice obviously stressed.

"What's bothering you, Mona?" she questioned, sitting in her chair across the room.

I rubbed the cat behind its ears, averting my gaze from the woman. "I'm just wondering what's going to happen to me at the orphanage. I don't want anyone to find out who I am, but I have nowhere else to go."

"Don't you?" she asked as if the answer was obvious.

"Not unless Mr. Batman decides to take up another ward." I bit my lip, realizing I'd practically let slip Dick's identity. Selina waved her hand carelessly.

"Relax, I've known Bruce is Batman for a while now. When did you finally figure it out?" she asked casually.

"Last night," I said slowly, attempting to take all this new and strange information in.

"I know something will fall through, Mona. Take my word for it." Selina gave me a knowing smile and within the hour I'd been back to the orphanage to change then found myself heading back over to Wayne Manor.

It felt odd to wait for someone to answer the door for me. All the other times I'd ben to Wayne Manor recently all I'd had to do was wait for Dick to unlock the door with a quick flick of his wrist. But I stood and waiting patiently, ignoring my dismal thoughts on how I knew I looked. At the orphanage I'd gotten good look at myself. My face was heavily bruised and especially my nose which had a slightly noticeably bump in the middle. The skin under the bandages was so purple it was almost black. My normal and un-bruised skin was a few shades paler than normal, no doubt due to all the blood loss I'd gone through. I had taken a peek under the bandages on my arm to see my flesh cut like ribbons, and I was amazed it was still hanging onto the bones. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't get an infection from one of my injuries. That would've been a highly less than stellar way to end my vigilante career.

The door opened to show Alfred, who let a small smile, which almost seemed relieved, grace his face. "Miss Ryder, good to see you again."

"You too, Al. Bruce and Dick still here?" I asked, sending a sincere yet slightly pained smile back to the philanthropic butler.

"I do believe they're in the study, discussing some matters of their other lives."

"I don't think they'd mind if I joined in, do you?"

"Certainly not. Please, follow me." Alfred stepped aside to let me in, graciously helping me over the top step of the threshold.

He led the way down a few majestic halls until we reached a set of tall double doors that looked daunting enough by themselves. I could only imagine how much more intimidating it would be inside them. But I took a breath, pushing down my worries and uncertainties and opened the door.

Bruce stood by the fireplace, looking at a portrait of a man and a woman above the mantle. I recognized them from news reports as his late parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne. It was easy to see where Bruce got his striking looks from, both his parents had been beautiful people in their day. Dick was across the room, leaning his weight on a large wooden desk. They both turned as I entered and I gave a timid smile before going to sit on the large sofa seated in front of a window. It was dusk when I'd arrived and the light of day was slowly retreating from the sky, painting the grounds of Wayne Manor a deep indigo-violet color.

"I assumed there were things we needed to talk about," I said, feigning a casual demeanor as I propped my leg up on the plush couch. Pain pulsed throughout my body but I gritted my teeth, doing my best to ignore it. I had learned that you shouldn't show pain to anyone, friends or foes.

"You thought right," Bruce said gruffly, turning to look at me. "So you've definitely decided to stay as Owlet?"

I gave a short decisive nod. "It's what feels right to me," I answered quietly but confidently. I remembered my dad telling me once that confidence was knowing you were capable of doing anything you set your mind to, but arrogance was making sure everyone else knew. There was something about crossing that line from believing in your abilities to flaunting them that made my dad's skin crawl. I had always supposed it was one of his strange perks but now I was finally able to see the lesson to be learned.

"I'm sure you've already seen a lot of the unique stresses that come with using an alter ego to fight crime," Bruce started, making small gestures with his hands as he spoke. I couldn't help but feel like I was at some board meeting he was presenting at. "And with time they only get worse. But I would suggest since you're so stupidly adamant on staying Owlet, using a more underhanded approach to fighting crime in Gotham City would benefit all of us."

"You mean, like making the villains think I'm a solid part of their operation? Pretending to be on their side?"

"Only for the purpose or bringing them down with more ease for us and evidence to the DA's office. Owlet is seen as somewhat of a criminal already, we all know you've done criminal acts, so she's the perfect candidate to infiltrate enemy lines. You could get farther inside than Batman or Robin ever could." Bruce's voice seemed unattached as he talked, as if this were just some other business deal, not me risking my life as Owlet to get behind criminal borders.

"OK," I said after a few minutes of thought. "I'll do it. It'll do wonders for my image, though. Imagine how much Gothamites will come to love their favorite anti-heroine, the owl girl." My sarcasm got a little chuckle out of Dick but nothing more than a slight facial twitch from Bruce, which may or may not have been involuntary.

"There's something else I'd like to talk to you about, Mona," Bruce announced. I gave a little eyebrow cock but said nothing, letting the millionaire go on with his monologue. "Lately I've been thinking that it isn't quite fair you should have to stay at the orphanage, considering how compromising it would be to your identity should anyone discover it, and not to mention the overall lack of-"

"What Bruce is trying to say," Dick interrupted, making his way over to me in a few long strides. "Is will you come live with us? Here, at the Manor." I couldn't mistake the longing in his eyes as he asked the question.

"You know, as a ward, like Dick." Bruce looked awkward and uncomfortable as he clarified. I felt my mouth drop before turning up into a grin.

I got up off the couch, pulling both of them into as tight a hug as I could without breaking or re-breaking bones. "You guys are awesome, you know that?"

"So, is that a yes?" Dick asked, gingerly hugging back. I pulled away, my grin getting bigger.

"Actually, it's a no," I told them, shaking my head as the hopeful look on Dick's face fell. "I can't come and stay with you guys."

"Why not?" Dick protested. "This is the best place for you! A home, a family, the Batcave, what more could you need?"

"You didn't let me finish, Richard," I said in a fake stern voice. I waggled a finger at him. "I can't stay here because someone else already offered to adopt me. I believe you two are familiar with Selina Kyle?"

A full out smirk found its way onto Bruce's face. "Now I see why all your moves seemed so familiar. You were trained by Catwoman."

"What, like the Catwoman? You were trained in combat by Catwoman?" Dick exploded. I could see the gears turning in his head. "And she's adopting you?"

"Yes, Dick. That's what has been so far established in the conversation," I said to him as if talking to a 5 year old.

"You'll still go to Gotham Academy?" Bruce asked, seemingly unfazed by the news I'd given them.

"Might as well, now that I've made a friend." The scowl that had crept onto Dick's face left and was replaced by his trademark smile. "She's this really nice girl in my Spanish class, her name is Kelly." I couldn't help but let a laugh bubble from me as Dick rolled his eyes at me and Bruce tried to hide his ever-growing smirk. And though I wasn't going to stay at the Manor, Dick had been right about one thing: I'd get a family.

And apparently, without me knowing it, that was what I was really looking for the entire time.

(PUT LINE BREAK HERE!)

"I always knew keeping my crap packed would come in handy one day," I said as I heaved my single suitcase onto the bed I'd used to stay the night. Selina stood framed in the doorway, a light smile on her face.

"Well, there you have it. Welcome home, kid. I never thought I'd actually have a kid, adopted or otherwise." She shook her blonde hair from her face. "It's just such an alien concept, actually being responsible for something else, legally responsible."

"You're making it sound like taking care of me will be so much work." I rolled my eyes, brushing my bangs out of my face. "All I need is food, a place to stay, and training. Otherwise I'm pretty self-sufficient."

"We'll see," Selina drawled, slinking out of my room with a knowing grin on her face.

As I began the tedious yet wonderful chore of unpacking my few belongings into my new home, the single phone in Selina's apartment rang from a wall that separated the kitchen and the living room. "I'll get it," Selina sighed, rushing over to it.

"Good, it's probably for you anyway. This being your apartment and all," I answered cheekily, a dopey grin on my face.

"Shut up, smart ass," was all she said before picking up the phone. "Hello?" She only listened for a few seconds before calling out. "Mona, it's for you!"

I let a puzzled look cross my face as I went to get the phone. "Who is it?"

"Boy Blunder, and he sounds pretty upset. Said he needed to talk with you." She handed me the phone, taking a few steps back from me. The first thing that tipped me off was the worried look on her face. What was she expecting me to hear?

"Hello?" I asked, letting my confusion out clearly in my voice. "Dick?"

"Mona," he said breathlessly as if he'd just run a mile. "Mona, something's happened."

"What's wrong?" I demanded. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's Fincher…" My blood ran cold at those two words, something awfully foreboding told me in the back of my head that I wasn't going to like what I heard next. I gripped the phone harder, my fingertips going numb as I did so.

"Just tell me, Robin." I didn't know what possessed me to use his crime fighting name, but somehow I thought that if it was too hard to be said as Dick it'd at least be easier to spit it out as Robin.

I heard him give a deep breath before continuing on. "Fincher, Mona, no one knows what happened, or how, or why, but he… he got away."