A/N: Another early one. And yes, I went and adjusted the typos from the last one. Thanks for pointing them out. Sorry about that. When you stare at a particular piece long enough you sometimes miss some things. And yes! Bruce is extremely suspicious! As far as the Batmobile goes...I suppose pateince is a virtue?


It was never my intention to trap Sam in this crazy web that consumed out lives. And as selfish as it sounds, and I know it does, I'm glad that I had someone on my side. You can't uphold this life on your own. I think it's one of the hardest lessons any of us had to learn.


The second Delilah stepped foot into the foyer, her bag was ripped from her. "Dad!" She groaned watching him rifle through it right there on the spot. Of course, he'd find nothing but textbooks, notebooks and pens. She snatched it back when he seemed to find nothing in it of consequence. If he looked in the notebooks, he'd definitely know something was wrong. After all, they had Sam's name written in them, not hers.

"If you wanted to see what was in my bag, all you had to do was ask."

He seemed to relax at her words, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "I'm the parent; I don't need to ask for anything in this house." Cripes, he was moody. Trying to be careful with her shoulder, the girl slung the strap over her back. "Bad night?" He answered her with a slamming door as he made his way back down into the bat cave. "I hear ya." With that she made her way up to her room, slinging the bag on the bed. Del made quick work of the sweater, overly aware how her undershirt was sticking around her shoulder. Sure enough, the wound was bleeding again. She didn't even bother with a light as she routed around in her dresser for a clean, looser fitting shirt. Glancing in the mirror she caught someone's form standing behind her door. She immediately filled the room with lamp light.

"Damn it, Damian!" She yelled, marching across the room she threw the door open, "Out!" However, her little brother only kicked the door closed and wrenched her hand off the knob. Giving her arm a twist, it shed light on the angry red cuts that trailed up her arm. "That's what I thought."

Yanking her arm back, she turned back to the dresser. "Keep your mouth shut."

"How did you get the bullet?"

"The Red Hood." She snipped, watching the boy's face in the mirror. "He let you get that close? " He asked, turning his back so she could change shirts. What he didn't expect was for her to kick him against the door. Grabbing his arm, she twisted it into an arm bar, mashing his face into the frame.

"Did you know?!" Did you know this entire time?!"

"What? About you? It was a suspicion." He spat out against the door.

"No! About Jason! You lie to me, Damian, God, help you. Only the Lazarus pits have the ability to bring people back."

His green eyes were wide. "The experiment?" At those words, he was released, leaving his sister to pace back and forth across the floor. He only gave his neck and shoulders a pop. "My mother tried to bring him back to life. He was an emotionless vegetable that attacked on the slightest provocation. A failure."

"Oh, my God. Why?!"

Compared to Delilah's frantic arm movements and determined pacing, the boy was utterly still. "She thought it would win father's approval, if it turned out like she hoped."

"This is exactly why Dad didn't use the pits!" When she ripped the door open, Damian followed her.

"And just what exactly are you going to do?"

"Warn my father, he needs to know!"

"You do that, you're going to blow your own cover."


As Delilah popped down the steps two at a time, a part of her just wanted to yell out. It's Jason. The Red Hood is Jason. The words bubbled and lingered right there on her lips, but nothing would come out. She stood motionless, watching her father rewind and replay the moment that she jumped after him.

"Whoever they are, they didn't want to see you end up a stain on the street." Dick turned, realizing she was just standing there by the stairs staring. "Who..."

"We don't know."

Play it off. Just keep calm and play it off. You can do this. It's not like you're going to hide it from them forever, just for now. "Holy crap! Dick, what happened to your face?"

Dick lightly touched his crooked nose.

"He got kicked in the face." Damian chimed in for him, slipping the man a grin as he moved around his motionless sister.

"Says the one who was knocked out cold and left hogtied on the sidewalk."

"An oversight." He sniffed, hopping up onto the platform where the costumes hung. He seemed to linger around Jason's suit. "You probably deserved it." Delilah shot out, biting back the urge to grin at him. She gravitated toward the grappling gun on the table. Her grappling gun. This brought a slew of new problems. Her system for moving around the city wouldn't be the same, and it wasn't like she could just steal it back. That would raise some red flags.

"What I don't get is, why shoot at us, and then try to run away?"

Her father had his hands folded as he pressed his elbows on the computer, just watching the clip over and over. It was if he was looking for something in that moment to explain things.

"They had a knife that was able to cut my lines. But I don't think they'd shoot at us, cut free, and then cut my line only to save me from falling."

"Two different people with ability to cut your lines? Not many weapons can do that." She said, easing herself onto a stool next to her father. I'm lying. I'm lying to you, and I'm sorry. When he glanced at her, she popped her eyes to the screen, praying she didn't look guilty as hell.

"No, not many."

Out of the corner of her eye, Del could see Dick moving toward the table. "You have to admit, it would take some serious skill to use a pair of cables, like you say. Are you sure they were using two at the same time? I mean I know you always set anchors but-"

"Yes. They cut one of their own cables from their harness and gave it to me."

"That would take some balance."

"Oh, a lackey like you could probably pull it off, Grayson." Damian sneered. Annoying Dick was turning out to be one of his favorite pastimes.

"Shut it, Damian."

Dick was turning the grappler over in his hand. "A trigger and a throttle?" He lifted the tube that was dangling from its end. "I wonder what they used to power it…"

"C02. I've been running checks on any large purchases for C02, but I haven't found any." Because Wayne Enterprises bought them years ago, Dad. You'd have to look at your own company.

It was then, her father turned his chair. Without warning, his fingers hooked around the collar of her shirt, pulling it down to reveal the long snaking cut around her neck. "Care to explain that? Or why Jax has cuts?" Hearing his name, Jax roused from the other side of her father's chair.

"A fight with a short, arrogant opponent."

"I would have won if your stupid dog hadn't attacked me." Damian fired back.

"He attacked you because you cheated."

Delilah tried not jump as her father's chair swung back, crashing to the ground when it tipped over. Jax never made a fuss when he or Dick sparred with the girl. It only meant one thing; the animal thought she was in danger. "You drew a blade on her?!" Del cringed when his voice echoed through the batcave, stirring the bats in a chattering frenzy.

Damian simply lifted his chin. "It would have been a fair fight if you had taught her how to use the sword. Grandfather always said to finish off your opponent."

"She's not some opponent. She's my daughter!"

"And I'm your son! If you would let me go with you, none of this would happen!" He cried, jumping over the banister of the platform.

"Don't even spin it that way." Delilah may not have yelled but her words were heard. She knew by the way her father paused that he caught them. "I instigated the fight, and you obliged. You screwed up the match when you picked up the sword."

She may be a typical teenager, the kind who didn't want to get into trouble and would try to weasel her way out of it. But in the end, there were times you just had to take responsibility for your actions. Batman was looking right at her. "Jax broke through the kitchen window and attacked Damian, when he had me in a compromised position."

"Go to your room, and wait for me."

Delilah quickly ducked for stairs, cutting by the boy. "Nice try, but I'm not going to let you guilt your way into being Robin."

"Now Delilah Bae!"

Delilah didn't say another word, with Jax now just a few steps behind her, she disappeared into the house.


When Bruce, eased his way into her bedroom, the minutes had slipped into hours. It was an ungodly hour, but he knew she'd still be awake. The girl was sitting cross legged on the bed, a stack of envelopes, spilled out in front of her, with Jax all but sprawled out against her.

Her eyes looked up from the envelope in her hands and landed on him. "I know you're mad." She said letting the piece of paper fall into her lap, as he grabbed her computer chair and stat himself down across from her. "What were you thinking?! He could kill you." The words were simple and to his own horror, the truth. His son had no scope of what was right or wrong.

"I just- I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't."

"Ouch."

He was leaning with his elbows on his legs, his chin resting on his folded hands. "Truth, hurts Del."

"Siblings are supposed to argue and fight."

He took the envelope from her, forcing her to pay attention to him. "Normal siblings, but not ones that were raised by assassins."

"Touché." Delilah said with a shrug, wincing when she realized just how badly that hurt. "He almost handed my ass to me. Again."

"More like your head."

"Hey, I did make him eat dirt a couple times. I can hold my own." She said, snatching the envelope back from him.

"You almost didn't-" The word hung there for a moment. "That shoulder is really bugging you, isn't it?" He can read your body language. "It's sore. I smacked it pretty good when me and Damian were tussling around, and then practice with Dick didn't help. I just pulled a muscle." If he looks at my shoulder, I'm so done.

"You stopped by the café. Want to tell me what that was about?"

He stole the letter back from her. "What's this?" Delilah could have rolled her eyes. Now he was evading her questions. She watched the lines in his face relax when he turned it over, showing the scrawling P written on the cover.

"I'm surprised you don't recognize your own handwriting." She said softly. He opened it, peering over the envelope at her. "Where did you get these?"

"They were in the safe…"

Without so much as a word, her father stood and scooped up the envelopes. He didn't offer her an explanation as he moved from her wing to his office with her in tow. She knew better than to ask. Wiggling her toes into the plush carpet of the office, she ambled over to the mantle, staring up at her grandparent's faces while he rummaged through the cabinets behind his desk. Only when he pulled a stack of envelopes from the depths did she wander her way back to him.

"You're kidding me."

"No I'm not."

Delilah eased herself into a chair by the desk, watching him put the letters in order. All he seemed to do was peek inside and read a line or two. It was as if he knew them by heart. He went to shove them toward her, but stopped. "Wait a second." He quickly pulled a couple out, and put them and the piece of cloth back into the cabinet. If Delilah didn't know any better, she'd say her father might have been blushing. "I'm sure you could do without reading those."

He held them out to her, but just as she reached out to accept them he yanked them back. "I catch you and Damian squaring off like that again; I will confiscate these so fast your head will spin." Grounding would never work on the likes of her. But holding something back about her mother, now that was another story.

"Yes, sir."

He let her have them. Watching her eyes scan the sticky notes that all but covered the first envelope. "Seriously? You guys have a post-it note war?"

Her father's lips shaped into a very small, very subtle smile. She could tell by the way it caused his eyes to crinkle just ever so slightly. "That's how this whole mess started." He said, gesturing to the tower of letters. "That and three large coffees down the front of my shirt." With that he purposely squeezed her on the shoulder. "Now go to bed before Alfred starts slipping you drugs too."

Delilah slipped out of the chair, plopping a kiss on his scruffy cheek, she scrambled for the door before he could change his mind. "Bed. No letters tonight."

"Night, Dad." She barley heard him answer her back as she dodged Alfred in the hall. She pressed her lips to the envelopes. "Thanks, Mom. You helped me dodge a bullet." Well…sort of.


Somewhere in the hour of four in the morning, Delilah thought she heard the squeak of her door. A part of her wanted to roll over and ignore it. That was of course, until someone started to bounce on her bed.

"Yo. Up. Now."

Dick. The girl groaned into her pillow, lifting her head to glare at the alarm clock. "Dick, it's 4:30. Go away." Five hours sleep was not enough. There was brief moment when her brain entertained the thought that he just might get up and leave her alone. That dissipated the second he had Jax sticking his cold nose in her ear and licking her face.

"Traitor."

"Your father wants you up. Do you really want him coming in here instead?"

The girl flung the blankets back at that. "Oh, fuck no!" With that Dick and Jax both vacated the room. "Ten minutes!" He called. Ten minutes? Ten minutes till what? Delilah flopped back on her bed. Oh, Jesus, her punishment hadn't even begun.

"Why do girls take so long?" Damian wanted to know.

"To drive us crazy."

"Hey, you said ten; it's been six and a half." Delilah quipped, as she came down the stairs. She wasn't sure what to think when she saw her father in shorts and a sweatshirt. Jax was sitting by his leg, holding his own leash. "I thought there was this thing in the constitution against cruel and unusual punishment? You know… eighth amendment?"

She felt something crawl up her spine when her father's lips twitched. "That's the constitution. It's a dictatorship in this house." Oh, son of a bitch. Alfred quickly offered the girl her medication, and a bottle of water. "Why are they so full of piss and vinegar this morning?" She asked, trying to swallow as many pills down as she could.

"B12, Miss."

"Oh, fantastic. If they come back without me, please send a search and rescue team."

Alfred seemed to simper at that. "On speed dial."


Delilah tried to think nothing of it when she took the end of the leash. She and Jax ran every morning, rain or shine. Dick joined in if he was there early enough…but her father? She eyed the back of his sweat shirt, watching the hood bounce with the sway of his movements. She peered over her shoulder at Damian. "What the hell?" She mouthed. But the boy literally just shrugged at her. "Did you tell?" He shook his head.

When she felt Dick take the leash, she stared at him. "Go. I don't think Jax can keep up at that pace for that long." Delilah looked at the gap her father had created. He was right; it would be cruel to keep Jax at his pace. "Care to tell me what's up?" she breathed, trying to ignore the bite of the October air. But even Dick just shrugged. "Liar." She accused, putting in her ear buds, before slowly and surely bringing herself to her father's side. When Damian tried to catch up with them, Dick held out his arm. "Wait. Let them go. You have no idea how long this has been coming."

He knows. He knows, he just can't prove it.

The thought made all warmth leave her face. "Shouldn't you be back there with Jax?" He asked, his voice barely breaking over the sound of his shoes on the pavement. "No." Delilah said, watching one manicured yard pass, then another. "I'm right where I'm supposed to be." With that she started to pull away from him. What Bruce couldn't see was Dick grinning like a Cheshire cat when Wayne shook his head at her. He could push Delilah all he wanted, but what Dick knew, was that no one pushed the girl harder than herself. "There's no way, you can keep that pace Del."

"Don't bet me on it! Remember you're the one with money. I have nothing to lose."

Was he laughing? Seriously laughing? Dick was the one shaking his head now, watching Bruce as he caught up to the girl. He knew that she would slow for a few minutes but then she'd be right back at that stride. She was trying to make sure she didn't burn herself out.

"Competitive aren't they?"

"Are you just now noticing that?" Damian sniffed, keeping his pace behind Grayson. "What's her point? What could she possibly gain?"

"That she doesn't need him to fight her battles for her. She has his love, make no mistake; it's his respect she wants."

Damian shot him a miffed look. "You got all that…from this?"

"Dude, this has been going on for years. There's a lot more to your father and sister than you know."

Several miles in, Dick eyes caught Bruce's hand circling in the air, he was telling them to start heading back. "What about them?" Damian asked, as Grayson forced him to turn around. "Let's just hope they come back in one piece instead of pieces."

The silence between them was maddening. It didn't matter that there was music humming in her ears, or that there were crickets hopping in front of them like the suicidal insects that they were. It's your own conscience. She chided to herself.

"I didn't expect you to last this long."

"I'm tougher than I look." She breathed, turning her head to see the pink ribbons of sunlight cut across the sky. He looked that direction but only for a moment, before he slowed and stopped completely. Delilah slowed herself and paused, watching him turn toward the ocean.

" I know." He said, giving Del nothing but the side of his face. C'mon, Dad. Just ask me. Just ask me, I'll tell you everything! What came from his mouth wasn't what she expected. "I wish you didn't have to be."

Delilah could feel the winter wind working through her sweat soaked hoodie. Now that she wasn't moving, her body was losing its warmth. Dick was right, not that she'd ever admit that one aloud. "Dad.." Delilah felt herself shiver in the space of the silence. The words were right there, but they didn't come out. God, he knew. Why didn't he just come out and say it? Why couldn't she?!

"I don't do it just because I want to, or I just want to get on your nerves, or prove a point. I feel like I have to." At that moment she knew she wasn't just talking about pushing herself to the brink. If anyone knew what it was like to be driven into doing what felt right or just, it had to be him.

But he only nodded. "Alright, Kid." Delilah wasn't sure what that meant. The long silence back did nothing to quiet the over whelming uncertainties. Coming back into the house, the warmth made her flesh tingle, it was the kind of feeling that relived a person and brought them pain all at once. The girl flopped on the stairs, afraid that her body would melt right there for sure. Her father simply stepped over her.

"Gi. I want you in the gym in five."

"What?!"

"Dictator says. Now move it."

"Evil Dictator, more like."

"Clock's ticking!"

"Fuck sticks." She hissed as she laid there staring up at the ceiling. Just what was his deal today?

"I heard that."

"No you didn't." She yelled, peeling herself off the stairs. Well, at least her muscles were nice and lose. All the better for him to beat in.


As Delilah and her father circled around each other, it started to make sense just what he was up to. Every move he had made was the same as last night. He was testing her limits, or trying to push her into a confession so he didn't have to ask. Watch that foot. He gets you to the floor, you're in trouble.

The room echoed with the sound of his foot connecting with her glove when she moved to block her face. C'mon Old Man, kick high. When he did, the girl dropped down, kicking out her father's foot, he didn't miss a beat when he hit the mat and it turn swept at her. Delilah jumped into a back handspring missing it just in the nick of time. She had landed in a crouch, just as he jumped to his feet.

"Oh. So is this how it's going to go? You're as jumpy as he is." He said giving a slight nod to Dick as he leaned against the wall. He seemed to be enjoying this just a little too much.

Delilah couldn't help it. She grinned at him. "Then you should know how to put me down. How come you haven't done it yet?" She breathed, focusing on blocking his kicks with her feet.

"Okay, Smartass, have it your way." He blitzed her. She was so focused on meeting his fists with her gloves, that when he kneed her it knocked her down a peg. When she hit the mat with a thud, she tucked and rolled back, trying to duck when her father's leg flew over her head. Unlike all of the times before, he wasn't relenting, he wasn't going to stop and let her breathe. She caught the foot with her gloves, jumped and kicked his leg out. When he went down, he managed to grab her arm as he kicked her legs out from under her. Delilah landed right on her ass. He was up before she could even think to roll. He grabbed her by the collar, holding a fist back from her face. Then he just dropped her.

For a second the room was filled with the chorus of ragged breaths. But he reached down, grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. "Do you know what you did wrong?" He asked, turning to accept the water that Alfred had brought them. Delilah put her hands on her knees, bent over and took a breath. "Yeah." She said straightening herself, catching the bottle when her father tossed it to her. "I picked a fight with Batman." There was a brief moment where she thought her father was smirking. "No. You got cocky."

"And then I got knocked on my ass."

"That's normally what happens."

Bruce eyed Damian who was sitting patiently on the floor. He didn't even look amused. "Give me ten minutes."

"Yes, Father."

Delilah looked from the boy to her father. "You are full of piss and vinegar today. Alfred, don't give him anymore B12. He's starting to freak me out." She said flicking her father right on the nose. Something he used to do to her when she was knee high to a June bug. Not that she was much taller now. He popped that water bottle out of her hand and suddenly struck. His fist hit her bare hand, just as the water bottle came spilling down on her. She had no choice but to slide back. She turned, forcing Dick to jump out of the way when she ran and the wall and flipped over her own father. The second she hit the floor, she got him with and elbow to the head.

He swung right around with that fist forcing her to duck, but just as she did, his other fist got her square in the gut. Delilah doubled over, but forced herself to drop. She kicked his legs out from under him and then side rolled so she wouldn't get his body when he landed on his rump with his back to the wall.

Del worked herself to her feet as Bruce tilted his head against the wall. "Good girl." He managed when she grabbed his hand and helped him up. "You always taught me to expect the unexpected. How's the cheek?"

Her father rubbed his cheek where her elbow had landed. "Fine. How's the gut?"

"Well, I'm not curled up in the fetal position so that must account for something." With that her father simply patted her on the back, making sure to slap that shoulder for good measure. Leave it to him to get the last word in…so to speak.

"You're not sticking around to see Damian get the crap beat out of him?" Dick yelled to her when she popped over a pressing bench and hopped to the door. "No. School in an hour. Record it for me!"

That had Wayne at the door. "Excuse me?"

"School, Dad."

"No."

Delilah groaned. "Dad. I've missed the entire week almost. I need to at least go make up the test I missed and pick up my homework." When he just stared at her, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "After what happened you really think the school is going to let me go anywhere without a security guard?"

"I want you here by lunch."

"Yes, Sir."

Dick looked a little miffed. "You're actually going to let her go alone?" He asked watching the girl haul ass down the hallway.

"No, you're going to go get her."


Delilah made her way into the cramped hall, dodging and edging around the bodies in pleated skirts and slacks. "That's not regulation." Delilah looked down at her black boots and jeans, then back up at the leggy blonde. "Well, I'm glad to see you know the difference." Delilah said, glancing at the girls who giggled behind their hands. "You don't, apparently." Oh, this was normal. To Del's misfortune, even in a school of socialites, her name was one of the biggest on campus. And what Delilah had learned was, the bigger the name, the bigger the target, especially if you didn't play to the same song and dance as everyone else.

"No, I just don't care. There's a difference."

"You think you can do whatever you want just because you're a Wayne."

Delilah pursed her lips. "Sweetie, I don't think I can do whatever I want. I know I can."

Without another word, Delilah spun around and continued down the hall, ignoring the sudden shrieks of gossip. If her Dad ever heard her talk that way…he'd kill her. She found Sam waiting against the wall.

"Boy, Carlotta's squealing to her friends right now, I can hear it from here. ' Did you hear how that bitch talked to me?' "Del felt her lips curl as Sam imitated the girl.

"She'd shit bricks if she knew the boots came from Macy's." Delilah grumbled, dropping a bag by Sam's feet.

"Delilah Wayne shops with the lower crust!" Sam exclaimed, expanding her hands in the air as if it were a headline. "I could see the article now." Sam let the bag in her hand drop to the floor right next to its matching cousin, completing the bag swap with none the wiser. She then reached down and grabbed the paper that was sitting on top of her books. "Did you see this?" She asked, thrusting the paper at Del.

Someone had managed to take a shot of Batman in mid fall. Batman saved by unknown vigilante!

"You didn't tell me you saved Batman's ass!" Sam whispered excitedly. Delilah only looked at her, but then her eyes fell back to the picture. "I-I had to, I couldn't just let him..."

Delilah felt someone take up the wall beside her, but she didn't look up. "Crazy, isn't it?" The girl peered up at Timothy Drake, He had his foot against the wall and his eyes down at the paper in her hands. "Y-yeah...crazy."

Sam peered around the girl. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Sam this is Timothy Drake, Drake, Samantha Cleary." Delilah said quickly, pulling herself away from the wall.

As soon as the bell rang, Del wandered to her class, the paper still in her hands. She didn't even look back at the two. Tim looked at her, and then looked at Sam. "Was it something I said?" He asked, watching her slip into the classroom.

"I guess you haven't known her for very long. She doesn't look at Batman like he's crazy. He saved her life once. She takes him seriously."


It wasn't Tim that caught her off guard. It was the photo. Now the adrenaline had long since faded, it was clear just how close she came to letting him fall, letting her father fall. Even with the article stuffed into her bag, she couldn't dismiss the nagging thought. It didn't make her trig exam any easier.

"Students, remember that the pole challenge is set up in the north field. Please exercise all caution, and good luck. Remember the first male and female students to make to complete the challenge will be exempt from their mid-term!"

"Hey! Are you going to try the pole challenge?" Sam asked the second the class burst open. Delilah was trying to ignore the security guard that was trailing her from a few bodies away. The school had posted one in the last two classes she'd been in. "What is it?"

"Woman! This is so up your alley how could you not know?! Every year they erect a pole on the track field. They give you nothing but weights and straps to climb to the top. A lot of people just tank."

Delilah clenched her teeth, choking on a groan when someone pressed on her shoulder, jumping in front of them. "Oh come on, Wayne." She could have cursed Tim as he turned away and began to make a bee line through the crowd. "You know what? He's not that bad to look at." Sam said, as the girls watched him dart out the front door.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sam snorted. "Liar."


Delilah craned her neck, to look at the top of the pole that stood wearily in the middle of the field. It seemed roughly the size of a telephone pole. Of course, telephone poles didn't have nets waiting to catch you if you fell.

"Everyone listen up!" Her eyes snapped to the potbelly toting coach. "If you are participating, select your weights from the table. Pick up some straps from the bin beneath it! Choose them wisely. Then stand in line and wait to be harnessed. Yes, there are nets, but we would like to get everyone safely to the ground. Don't be horsing around."

Delilah had her hands on her hips watching the jocks laugh and joke. One by one they'd pick the smallest weights they could, hoping to keep from being weighed down as they tried to climb, but one by one they'd slip and fall and end up riding the zip line right back down to earth.

Tim, was still looking the weights over when Delilah finally approached the table. They all ranged in size. But all were flat and rounded out in the shape of discs. "Going for the big guns, huh?" Tim asked, watching her test out the larger weights "They're not just a part of the obstacle…" She said, as she picked her set. "They're tools."

She passed the kids as the huddled, shivering and jumping around in their gym clothes. "Wayne? Are you sure?" The coach asked her, as she stepped into the harness, letting the staff adjust it to her body. The school was well aware of her condition. "Yes. I'm not lifting anything heavier than my own body weight." It was the only cardinal rule she followed.

She could hear her classmates whispering and giggling as she approached the pole, weaving her way around the nets to reach the base. "Okay Wayne, we've laughed enough." Pike Jested. But Delilah wasn't paying him any attention. She wrapped her arms around the pole, feeling the weights wrap around each other she pulled, testing to see if they would hold. When they did, she put one foot on the beam, then another, sliding the weights up a little at a time. "Look at that, she's already higher of the ground than you were!" They were laughing. Focus. Just keep going. Her shoulders were on fire. It was enough to make the tears of reach wet her lashes, but the girl marched on, forcing the weights up and scaling a few steps at a time. The chattering below her had faded, leaving the wind to bite and numb her ears. For a split second she thought she heard the whirling sound of metal slicing through the air, when the harness ripped, and the objects stuck into the wood, Delilah had her answer. Her foot slipped, leaving her to hang there as the harness began to shift down.

"Hold on, Wayne, we'll get you down. Stay right there." Del peeked over the side, realizing she was more than half way up, the ground was further than she thought. Forcing her fingers to reach for the metal pieces, she yanked them from the beam. Glancing in her hands, she knew exactly who these belonged to. Jason. She pulled her hip up, to work them into the pocket of her gym shorts.

"Okay, Jase." She spat, wiggling, so the harness would just fall off completely. Looking over the field there was nothing there but an empty set of bleachers. He had to be there somewhere, he was watching. She heard the harness hit the ground.

"Stay still!" The coach yelled.

"Oh, bullshit! Get your ass up there! Don't you quit now! "

Delilah was grinning, realizing the entire crowd was now in riot of whistling and yelling. Leave it to Sam to get everyone going with her sailor mouth. Had she not been looking down she might have missed the shape of Dick's body standing on the skirts of the fray. Taking a deep breath, the girl pulled her feet back into position and slowly worked her way up. Everything ached. But she reached the bell that sat near the top, she grabbed that chord and slammed it, letting it echo across the field. The small crowd of students erupted. But the girl didn't let go. She pulled herself over the bell and to the top, working herself to sit on the flat surface. She ripped the straps off, tossing the weights, letting them clank together as they landed in the net below her. The teen worked herself to her feet, scanning the bleachers across the field for movement. Someone, someone was sitting there on the top row.

She did what any gymnast would do. She presented gracefully and then let herself free fall backwards into the net behind her.

"Jesus Christ!"

"I got the whole fucking thing on video!"

"Dude, that was awesome!"

Delilah worked herself out of the net. The metal in her pocket clinked together." Who got it on video?" She asked Looking eyes with a blonde haired boy when he held out his phone and shook it. "I was going to send out into the Twitter-verse." He told her. "One, I'd like a copy. Two. Can you throw a 'Wayne' tag in it?" The kid looked a little surprised but he grinned at her. "Done and done. Check your student e-mail."

Sam hugged her. "Oh, you crazy ass! You know you know the PR department at Wayne Enterprises is going to pick up on that right? Your Dad's going to see it."

"That's exactly what I want."

Delilah watched curiously as Dick approached her. He had that wiry look on his face. "I give it a 9.8"

"Oh, please," Sam chimed. "That was a 10."

"Dick, this is Sam." She said pulling the girl in front of her. "He's Dick."

"And why is she saying it like that?" Sam asked as she shook Dick's hand.

"You don't want to know. But it's good to finally meet you." He said jamming his hands in his pockets. "Hey, you ready? You have practice remember?"

"You have practice today? Oh you're evil." Delilah's lips twitched. Sam had wanted to see one of her practices for ages now. "Well, if you come with, you can see my practice and we can work on your independent study." She looked up at Dick. "If you don't mind… I mean."

"Fine by me." He said with a shrug. There was a reason for this, he could feel it.

"Let me call my Dad and see what he says." Of course she'd call her father instead. Her Dad was a little too obliging to bend to Delilah's will. The second she'd mention that she'd be going to Wayne Manor for the first time ever, her father would be sold. It was her mother that they were avoiding.

Delilah watched the girl run across the field for her things.

"What's wrong?"

Del pulled out the weapons that were in her pocket and handed them over. "This is what cut the harness. There was a glimmer of hope that maybe, maybe she'd be wrong. But the look on his face said otherwise. "You recognize them, don't you?"

"Yeah…they belong to the Red Hood." He said sliding them into his pocket. He was looking at her as if he had something important to say, but her mouth opened first.

"What's really going on, Dick? What's Dad's deal?"

He seemed to be looking beyond her, forcing Del to take a peek as Tim Drake slowly inched his way up the pole. "I told your Dad about our arrangement."

"Dick!"

"He was happy to reject it, trust me it took some persuasion." He crossed his arms. "But now, I have something to ask you." There was one moment when the girl would have been happy or at least relived to spill her guts. Now was not one of those moments.

"The mute last night. That was you, wasn't it?" When her eyes went wide he sighed. "I know your moves, Del. Some of them came from me." Delilah was looking at her shoes, but then she looked right back up. "Does Dad…"

"He's suspicious, and has nothing to physically prove it. I don't think he wants to believe it's you." He touched his pocket. "You knew what these were, and where they came from, didn't you? This is a problem. It means he somehow knows who you are and he's stalking you."

"I had my suspicions, something like that cut Dad's cable last night. You just confirmed it for me. Dick-" But he held his hand up to stop her. Sam was running back in their direction. "Later. We'll talk about it later." I know who he is too…but the words just would not come out. And so do you.

.