A/N: Sorry for the delay. It's finals week and I'm in full on panic mode. The chapters will be back on track though! Here's the second half of the last one. Now I will say there is some foreshadowing going on, but not for this story. (I have others in mind once I reach the end of this one.)


"B?" Oh, that voice, he knew the lilt of her voice. It was enough to make him lift his aching head. "What are you doing here?" Feeling her hand on his cheek, the man could have groaned. How could he have missed the feel of her flesh so much?

"Paige…"

Her lips broke into a sliver of a smile, but it never reached her eyes. "You can't be here." She whispered. As she kneeled, Bruce could finally see beyond her, but everything was covered with snow. The trees seemed to glitter in a predawn light, shades of yellow and pink. He should have been cold, but all he could focus on was the feel of her hands cupping his face. Why did it feel so real?

For a moment he had tricked himself into thinking he was sitting by the ice rink that went up in front of Wayne Enterprises every season, but the horizon was void of its towers of glass and concrete. "Not yet…"

"Paige…I-"

Her lips felt like a flutter on his forehead. "You need to wake up."

And leave her? Again? All he could do was press his hand against her hand, afraid the feel of her fingers would start to wilt away. "I was afraid…" The words bubbled from his mouth on their own accord, "I was afraid to find someone like you…" When the words began to sink in, Bruce found himself frowning. "I was just starting to…"

"Accept that you loved me?" She gave him a merciful smile. "I know…"

"I should have told you, I should have-" But the words were halted by the feel of her fingers pressing against his lips.

"It was enough." She whispered, letting her fingers slide down his lips. When she pulled him forward, he could smell the lingering scent of her perfume. Sweet pea. "I love you too, you ridiculous man." The breath tickling against his ear sent a shiver rippling through his flesh. "I always will…but it's time, B."

And yet all Bruce could do was press his cheek against hers. "They still need you…" she said gently. "Del and Damian especially."

"Del…I've made so many mistakes..."

"You're doing the best you can. But Bruce, you can't keep the girl from flying. You have to trust that she'll make the most of what you taught her." She pulled from him, dragging her warmth with her. "Now, you stubborn ass, it really is time to wake up."

Bruce blinked, trying to clearing his blurring vision. "How?" But her face was lost in a haze of color.

"Just open your eyes…"


He had a splitting headache, one that was slightly fuzzy around the edges. When the light began to blur into his vision, he began to make out the shapes of the hospital room. In this light, everything was a dusky gray.

Laying there for a moment, he worked on opening his mouth, suddenly so aware on how dry it was, or for that matter how much it pained him to breathe. And yet, there was something soft and warm pressing against his hand. Dragging his eyes to his bedside, Bruce found his daughter slouched over his bed, his hand trapped in between her cheek and her own fingers. Delilah. His fingers hesitated to reach out and touch her when the light from the hall broke through the gloom.

"I never pegged you for an early riser."

Bruce forced himself to turn his head toward the door, watching Tommy slide in from the chaotic hall. His eyes went back to his daughter, as he worked his hand out from under her head, trying not to disturb her as he let it rest on her head.

"Usually not." He said, watching Del's body rise and fall beneath the blanket of Dick's coat. Of course that was a half-truth. It was hard to rise early when you never slept.

"That's a good kid you've got. I don't think she ever left that chair. And the staff tells me that she paced the entire length of your surgery. Seventeen hours is a long time to be on your feet. Not even my dog is that loyal."

"She is a good kid." He managed, dragging his fingers through her soft tangled hair. He let his eyes fall back on Dr. Elliot. "Thank you, Tommy."

The man seemed to simper. "You know, if you wanted to see me, there is a lot easier way to get a hold of me." But he nodded. "It's good to see that you're awake. It's been two days."

The muscles around Bruce's mouth seemed to ache as he felt his lips fall. Without a mirror he could be sure what kind of facial expression he was making, but it felt like a grimace.

"You'll be fine, Bruce. Your car is another story." Tommy said, smacking him on the shoulder. "I'll pop in on you later. I don't want to wake her." The man murmured, tilting his head to the girl. "I've heard tales of her bad side; I'd rather not see it. She's been like your guard." He said giving a flash of a smile as he turned for the door. "Well, between her and that boy." He added. "Funny, he looks a lot like you."

"My son."

Tommy's shoulders went rigid. "Oh, you have been busy."

Bruce tried to smirk back; there was no telling if he actually succeeded. He just let himself relax back into the bed when the door quietly shut behind the man.

The seconds slipped into moments marked only by the soft lull of a girl's steady breathing, and the growing flicker of light as the sun began to peek around the skyscrapers. In this light he could see the familiar red highlights glowing like embers in her hair. A small bit of Martha Wayne. But he had noticed them long ago...


He couldn't hear the clink of plates or the soft murmur of conversation as the people at the table stuffed their gobs, creating piles of shells and claws. If Bruce was paying any attention at all, he might have realized that his own food had grown cold some time ago, and yet he couldn't stop staring out the large picture windows.

There were quite a few children darting around the shoreline, dancing and jumping through the foaming surf with their pants rolled up to their calves. Say of course, for one little thing. With her chin in her hands, she was plopped down on the veranda, wiggling her toes in the sand. He could see her body shuddering with the rise and fall of a sigh.

"Is that her?" Bruce only glanced at Dick, watching the young man shrink back in his chair. He knew that these family functions weren't his thing. There had to be a reason, and Dick had a sneaking suspicion that it had everything to do with a little girl in a jean jacket and a tutu.

Bruce only nodded, lifting his napkin from his lap as he pulled himself from his chair, aware that half the table was watching him. The second he slipped out onto the veranda, the pressure dissipated, swallowed by the sound of the sea.

At first Bruce wasn't sure he could move. In the months that followed their very first meeting, she had changed. She was much bigger than he remembered, and yet the time seemed to go by in a blink. How could he have missed so much in such small amounts of time?

Reminding himself that he had an audience, Bruce worked out of his shoes and socks, lining them next to her small boots. But the only time the little thing even looked his way was when the wood creaked under his weight.

Her head snapped up, the sun causing her pale blue eyes to shimmer. "Hello, Mr. Wayne." She murmured, scooting over as he eased down beside her.

"Miss Delilah." For a moment, neither man nor girl said a word as if they were listening to the squeals and shrieks that spilled from the other children as they raced up and down the shoreline.

"Don't you want to join them?"

"Yes-N-no. I don't know." The girl's curly ponytail swung like a pendulum along her back. This was certainly not like the child he had met.

"Scared?"

When her hanging head popped up, he shrugged. "Your mom told me about what happened at the pool." He offered, ignoring the regret that nibbled at him. His own child nearly drowned and he wasn't there. Now the child was terrified of any body of water that was larger than a bathtub.

"What a blabbermouth." She grumbled letting her weary gaze continue to drag along the shore. "Haven't you ever been afraid?"

Bruce stilled his fingers, letting his half rolled up pants hang where they were. "Of course."

Delilah quieted; she seemed to be tucking her lip into her teeth, her mother's own nervous habit. "What are you afraid of?"

"Lots of things."

"Name one."

"Public speaking."

The child snickered, watching the man put a finger to his lips. "You serious?"

"Have you ever given a speech to a room full of people?"

Del leaned back, tilting her head up to the pale blue sky. God, she looked so much like her mother. "Nope. And I wouldn't want to." But looking at her right now, with the sun peering down on her, he could see bits of his own mother in her, the fine red hair that mingled in her dusky brown, the soft dimples at the corner of her mouth, even the shape of eyes and her long eyelashes could be accredited to Martha Wayne. "Wait…" she said narrowing her eyes at him. "You do that all the time! Shouldn't you be used to it?"

"Probably, but it still makes me nervous." he murmured, rolling up the rest of his pant leg. The sand looked like glitter in the creases of his hands. "You can't let fear be the boss." The sand felt cool under his feet, but as he pull himself from the steps all he could feel was the child's stare on his back. "If I go, will you go?" He asked, tilting his head to the ocean.

For a long moment the child just sat there, eyeing his empty outstretched palm, fingers hesitating in the air. She almost looked like a chipmunk with her cheeks puffed up with air. Her body seemed to deflate with a hiss. "Okay…" She whispered, her face becoming pale when his thick fingers curled over her delicate little hand.

With each step, he could feel her fingers tighten. Soon the sand was soft and wet beneath their feet. "Oh…this is gonna be cold…" she whimpered, watching the swell build before it rushed for the land. The second the foaming tide rolled across her feet, the girl squealed, jumping back, but neither man nor child let go.

"That wasn't too bad. I'm sure the Arctic is warmer."

Del looked up. "The Arctic? Yeah, maybe if you're a polar bear."

"Del! You want to play?"

The voice had them both staring down the beach at Tamara Fox. The older child was beckoning with a wave of her hand.

"So, what do you think now?" Bruce asked, watching Delilah's lips twist as if she were trying to decide what to do.

"I'm still scared." She whispered. "But I think…I'll make myself do it anyway."

Wayne let the girl's hand slide from his, watching the surf swallow up her footprints as she raced for Tamara. But then she stopped, turned and ran right back. "Thanks, Mr. Wayne."

He just nodded and turned himself back toward the restaurant, stopping and shaking his head when he saw her cartwheel out of the corner of his eye.

"Just what did you say to my kid?"

Paige was pressing her arms into the deck, her delicate mouth upturned into a smile as he worked himself back up the stairs. "Trade secret." That won a laugh out of her. It was a wispy melodic sound. If they had been any other place, he would have kissed that mouth, but instead the man only worked himself back into his shoes.

"Which trade?" she whispered, playfully elbowing him in the ribs when he settled beside her for the briefest of moments.

"I can't tell you." He murmured, making sure to elbow her back before he turned away. "It's a secret." With that, he returned inside and settled back down at the table.

It was later, when the sun a had fallen from the sky, leaving the sea the color of ink, when the children began to migrate back to their parents, half soggy, covered in sand and smelling of salt.

"Mama, look what I found." In the faint light, he could see the pearly white gleam of a tiny conch shell in the girl's hand as she presented it out to her mother, but turned his attention back to Lucius and their conversation. Only when he went to slide on his own jacket, did he realize that there was something in the pocket.

"Little Minx. I didn't even see her slip that in." Dick murmured, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. Bruce only stared at the small white shell in his palm.


Bruce's fingers worked easily through Del's hair, breaking the soft winding curls her braiding often left behind. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine she was that little girl again. It was hard to believe that one minute she was falling asleep on his chest with her books, or stuffing her glittered art in his briefcase and the next saving his life.

"Thank you."

When Del began to slide from the grasp of exhaustion, she was sure she could feel fingers gently tracing through her hair. She let one eye open and then the other. "You snore."

At the sound of his raspy voice, the girl popped her head up, her wild hair tumbling down the side of her face. "Dad." The word came out choked and cracking. Before he could even breathe, her arms were around his neck.

"I do not." The words felt warm against his cheek. Only when he patted her arms, did she slide from him, so uncertain.

"You look like hell." He said, watching her lips crack into a smile.

"You're no daisy yourself. What'd you do? Steal that get up from a mummy?" She asked, as he gingerly touched the gauze around his head.

"King Tut. It's on loan."

When her hands wrapped around his fingers, all he could do was squeeze. "Have you been sitting there the entire time?"

She didn't give him a flush or a sheepish face, but rather angled her chin at him. "I think they're going to need to put a name plate on this chair. They didn't know when you'd wake up so…" When she stopped to clear her throat, the man found himself trying to sit up. The second he outstretched his arm, she was up on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, Okay…" Having her pressed into his side made all sorts of things ache yet he let his arm sink around her.

"You must have been dreaming about something good." She sighed, her voice muffled into his shoulder. From here she could feel the soft rumble of her father's chuckle, before he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

"Your mother." He murmured. "She called me a stubborn ass." It was enough for a laugh to burst out of her, the kind of sound that tugged on his lips, even when the girl began to wipe her eyes with the back of her hands. "Didn't you have a competition or something? How did that go?"

"That was yesterday. I scratched."

"Del…"

"Family's more important." How could he argue with that? "I was busted down to an alternate. So I still have to go to the Santa Prisca Invitational, but the only way I'll compete is if someone has to scratch." Her shoulders rolled in a shrug. "I'm, I'm okay with that."

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself with the creak of the door interrupted his train of thought. Dick. Damian. Tim. "It's a madhouse out there."

"Did you give a statement?" Delilah asked

Dick shook his head, trying to jive out of Damian's way as the kid jumped to fill his sister's old spot. "I'll do that in a minute." He said, putting a cup of coffee in her hands. Del still had her lip trapped in her teeth when she slid off the bed. "I'll take care of that…you debrief him so we're all on the same page."

"You sure?"

"Yeah…I've been chasing people off for the last two days, what's a few more?" Her shadow lingered for a moment; face pinching as she worked down her first sip of coffee. But when the noise of the hall started to leak into the room, Bruce could still see her standing there just hesitating.

"I'm not going anywhere…" he croaked, winning bob of her head. But as the girl began to slide from the room, Tim close at her heals, he found himself calling out to her. "Del…" A pause.

"We'll have to have a discussion eventually…maybe not here."

"Okay."

"Tim, that goes for you too." Tim's shoulder froze as Del yanked him through the doorway. "Yes, Sir."


"Hold this for a second?" Tim glanced down at the Styrofoam cup, as the girl worked her tangled hair into a bun. She could hide the crazy hair, but sleeplessness had left its mark in purple smudges under her eyes. Her irises were too bright a color not to bring attention to her face.

"What? Something on my face?"

The boy shook his head. "You look exhausted."

"Gee, thanks." She grumbled, rescuing her cup from him. "You're probably the only one who managed to sleep an ounce."

"Not really…after I wrapped the Lamborghini around the tree, I think I just laid in bed until Mr. Collins' service rolled around." He said quietly, pausing when he couldn't hear her footsteps beside him.

"You went?" The words were soft enough that he almost missed them. But he nodded. "I thought someone should go, and with the circumstances…" His shoulders rolled under his coat.

"Sissy…I should've-"

"She understood." He said quietly. Del could only watch as Tim began to hastily dig through his pockets. "She wanted me to give you this." He said, lifting a small pale envelope to the light.

"Thank you."

"It's no big-"

"No, Tim. Thank you." The letter crinkled in her grasp, the paper folding under the weight of her fingers like Tim's shoulders under his heavy sigh.

"You're welcome. I just wish I could do more." He said pausing just at the double doors. Beyond the glass he could see a mob of coats, scarves and cameras waiting just out of reach. "Dr. Elliot gave a statement earlier." He said, watching the bodies shiver and rock side to side as their breath left clouds in the winter air. "But I think they've been waiting for a Wayne to make an appearance."

"He did?"

Tim lifted his cup to his lips. "Yeah, never struck me as a glory hound, but it takes all kinds." Suddenly he was shoving his cup at her. "Wait, you don't have a coat."

"Tim, I'll be fine. I'll just be a second." But he had already shed his coat like a second skin. With him standing there holding out the thick black coat, she had no other option but to take it. "Why are you so nice?"

"That's like asking you why you always want to help people." When she pursed her lips at him he smirked. "While you tame the lions, I'm going to pop in on Sam."

The coat hung limply on Del's arm. "Sam? What's Sam doing here?"

"They found a matching donor the other day…" The words should have brought her some relief, but all she could do was stare at him. He hardly knew Sam. "What are you not telling me?"

"I have a hunch." When the girl didn't as much as budge he sighed into his cup. Didn't they tell her? "Del, Mr. Collins didn't just have his eyes removed. His kidneys and liver were missing too." The same organs that Sam needed.

"A coincidence?"

"I hope so…but it sure as hell doesn't feel like one." He said turning away from her, but half way down the hall he paused. "You should see her, you know." He turned down another hall not even giving the girl the chance to argue. Please, God, let this be a fluke. And yet something in her gut was telling her otherwise.


Del wasn't sure if it was blood or sweat she felt trickling down her back. Oh, she knew she was bleeding, but at least this time she wasn't the only one. When this began, Damian didn't so much as break a sweat. Now? Now they both bled like stuck pigs.

In the blur of her vision she could see someone lingering in the doorway, it was all the distraction Damian needed to send her sword flying."Shit." She hissed, as they both slid to the floor, but the boy swept it up before she could even stretch out her arm.

The swords whirled in Damian's hands, whistling as they sliced through the air in a flash of metal. Oh, he never let her forget that he could kill her the moment it suited him,and yet all the little psychopath seemed to do was humor her in his own sadistic way. She was learning, and learning quick, but not fast enough. If she stood didn't move to plan B or C, no amount of bleach was going to save her gi. She had no choice but to backtrack. Even as she ran for the sword rack, she could hear the sound of his guttural scream. Ripping two blades from the rack, she ducked, feeling the wind from his blades rush against her neck.

She jammed her own swords into the wall before her, ripping herself up by the hilts, she launched of the wall with her feet, tearing the blades free with the force of her twisting body. With her feet smacking to the ground the girl rose, lifting her blades to meet his. The shaking of her body only made her grip the blades tighter.

Bruce felt compelled to rush in, but just before his toes could touch the mat, he could feel fingers digging into his shoulder. "Wait, Bruce." Dick was pulling him back. "Del knows what she's doing." Just as the father shrugged free of the man's hand, he saw Del's chest rise and fall as if a deep breath was whooshing from her lungs. She was relaxing herself, all the while, holding off Damian's blades.

"They've been doing this for almost a month now…I think Damian's been teaching her." Dick explained, his own eyes following the girl when she managed to shove Damian back. In the blink it took him to regain himself, Del worked her swords in between his own. Clamping her blades down on the weapon she twisted, sending the sword skirting across the floor.

"And I think-I think it's been helping him. I mean, look how he is compared to how he was when he got here." Dick made an interesting point, but it could do nothing to erase the glower Bruce felt on his face. When Damian first arrived, the kid trained to the point of exhaustion. It was as if he knew he couldn't control himself otherwise. Even now he was still being his relentless self, but maybe putting himself in that mentor position had let him channel his need to attack into something more.

"Don't get me wrong, they still beat the crap out of each other, but she does something wrong he's quick to correct her. I think he takes pride in teaching her." Dick added, watching as Damian wrenched one of his sister's swords away from her.

The hilt of the sword felt tacky in her hand, he had sliced it pretty good, but Del hold her own, feeling her feet slide back on the damp mat as the swords clenched together. Both their hands shout out for the handle of the opposing sword, but Del managed to grab the bottom of his hilt first. Twisting his wrist she scooped the sword from him. Turning the hilts in her hands she jammed the blades into the wall behind her. She pulled her body up once again, ready to kick out, but Damian was already springing back. He had picked up on some of her favorite skills, but by now she had begun to make a study of him too.

"Master Damian joins her for her runs too it seems."

Bruce minded his face as he twisted to look at the old butler. "You knew about this?"

"Oh? You thought they stitched themselves back up? Hardly, Sir." Alfred replied, setting down a tray. The first aid kit. "I do wish they wouldn't get blood on the equipment."

"Sorry Alfred!" Delilah called as they pair gunned for each other, both leaping up and knocking each other back on the mat. That didn't stop her from reaching over and smacking Damian on the foot. "What do you know…" she hissed as the sound of ragged breaths filled the room. "You do bleed."

"A lot less than you." Damian retorted.

Del rolled to her side, aware her own foot was stinging, she didn't have to look down to know the red mark of the boy's hand was imprinted on her flesh. "You should be in bed." She said, rising in her father's shadow.

"Like a person could sleep with the two of you around." He replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "When you're done bleeding, I'd like to see you and Dick in my office." The girl just stared at him, as he ambled back out into the hall without so much as another word. Uh oh.


Try as she may, Del couldn't stop her body from shuddering in its adrenaline withdrawals. Hand wrapped and back stitched, she slunk behind Dick, feeling the floor change from the cold touch of marble to the plush strands of carpet.

Her father only peered at them over his hands. "Close the door." Del did, aware of the shadow that clung close the wall just outside. Not that she could blame the kid for being curious. Del's fingers sank into the back of one of the chairs, shaking her head when her father gestured for them to sit. Ripping stitches didn't sound like a good time.

"You want to explain to us what's going on?" Dick asked, pressing his elbows into his knees as he leaned forward. It was then Bruce Wayne lifted the papers in front of him and handed them to the young man. Del scooted closer, eyeing her father when he rose from his chair and wandered toward the window.

"What is this?" Dick asked sharply, rearing his head up, but Wayne didn't so much a flinch.

"You know what it is, Dick. You can be impulsive, but I know you're not stupid."

Feeling Del's thin fingers touching his shoulder, Dick threw the packet back on the desk. "It's a last will and testament." He told her, letting his glance slide from her when her father finally turned around.

"Think of it as a contingency plan."

The words didn't put any color back into his daughter's face. "If something happens while you're still a minor, Dick is to become your guardian. Everything, and I mean everything is bequeathed to you." At his words, Del snatched the will off his desk. "W-why just me? What about Dick? What about Damian?"

"No outside claim from anyone. I trust you to fund your bothers as needed."

Staring at the small print was starting to make her queasy. Even the choice of the next Batman was left to her. Just like Dick had done, she tossed the papers back on his desk. "Why are you leaving that up to me?"

Del leaned her weight on the chair. Sitting there in that hospital room, waiting for him to open his eyes it occurred to her that if he was to leave them, their world would be in disarray, and it wouldn't just be from the aftermath of grief. Dick, Jason and now Damian would all stand to inherit the life of Batman. Jason and Damian would kill for it. Taking the choice away from them could save their lives, if it didn't crush her under the pressure. "It's a lot." The words made the girl lift her eyes from her hands. "I know what I'm asking is a lot, but I know you can handle it, should it ever come to that."

All the girl could do was nod. Who wanted to think about their only parent dying? How could she want to imagine her life without him in it? It was uncomfortable to say the least. It was enough to drive them to silence. "There's something else we need to discuss." She said evenly, stopping only to clear her throat. "If you're going to be down for the next couple months, it also means that Batman will be MIA."

Bruce came to lean on his desk, watching her stop to stare at her hands. "And with my boneheaded comment…people might put two and two together."

"What are you suggesting then?"

"I think Dick should take up the cowl in your absence." She said, aware that Dick was staring at her. Her father seemed to take a deep breath as if he wasn't too keen on the idea either. When a knock came to the door, the man slid his weight off the desk.

"You might have a point." He grumbled, as he wrenched the door open. Poor Alfred back tracked a step with his wide dark eyes, so uncertain of his master's scowl. "Master Drake to see you, Sir."

"Might? Is it that hard to say, 'You're right'?" She asked, pressing her hands into her hips, as her father moved from the doorway to let Tim slip by.

"You're just in time." He said under his breath. Sighing he shut the door again. "Dick…"

"Yeah?"

"Would you?"

"If that's what you want, Boss."

With that Bruce jerked his thumb to the door. "Out. Meet you down stairs in twenty."

Delilah didn't linger, she turned on her heel and headed after Dick, trying to offer a sympathetic face for the uncertain Tim.

"And Del…" The girl stopped, holding herself up in the doorway with her hands. "Drag the eavesdropper with you."


"What do you mean you want Tim as Robin?! I'm the only one fit to be Robin!"

Del rolled her eyes as Damian's voice echoed down the stairs. "In a few years, I'll be the only one who deserves to be Batman."

"That's not up to you." Dick groaned.

"Right, it was left up to her!"

Del turned her head at that, finding the boy's dark green eyes glowering at her. "Should I kill you now? Or later?"

"You do realize this all hinges on a hypothetical situation, right?" Del shook her head, marching to the table when she spotted her black canvas bag. "I'd prefer it if no one died." She added, frowning when she found the bag light to the touch. Sure enough the contents were gone.

"Tch. Right, in your world, pigs would fly and unicorns would fart rainbows or some such nonsense."

"I don't know, I've seen pigs fly." Dick called; the sound of his feet on the metal platform seemed to echo through the place. "Apparently, you've never seen Bats handle a dirty cop." The man leaned on the railing, watching the girl dig around below him. "Del, is this what you're looking for?" he asked, jerking his thumb to the case behind him.

Del didn't even try to catch the box in her hands; it simply cascaded to the floor with a bang, slinging its contents on the ground. "I didn't put that there…" she said softly, minding where she stepped as she moved her way to the platform.

The case hissed as she released the door. "Did you?"

But Dick only shook his head.

"I did."

Del let her hand fall to her side as she twisted to the sound of her father's voice. "It may be yours," he said slipping from the shadow of the stairs, "but it's not what you'll be using anymore." Dick reached over her and closed the case, forcing the girl to step aside. She looked as lost as Tim, frozen in place as Bruce moved his way to a darker corner of the cave. Dick literally had to shove the girl to get her to move.

Del stumbled her way down the steps, suddenly aware of the black shapes in the cave that she couldn't place. The sheet fell in a ripple. "From now on…"

The teen could only stare up at the black and yellow bat-suit. He had tailored it to her in a near mirror of his own. Only the cowl was different. The mask was full, revealing no part of her face. Fingers lingering in the air, she hesitated to touch it. But the moment the girl felt the small ridges under the pads of her fingers she knew the material.

"This is…"

"Sam's material." He shrugged at his gawking daughter. " I bumped into Sam during my stay at Gotham Memorial, she and I had plenty to discuss."

"Did you-"

"Did I tell her? No, but I left that to Barbra's discretion if the need arose. I only expressed that I would like to make a prototype of her work." He said handing the cowl to her. He watched her reach inside, no doubt feeling the mouth piece. "I had a few adjustments made. I didn't think she'd mind."

Del stepped to the side, letting the three boys behind her peer in. "A circuit exoskeleton?"

"Sensitive microphone in the fingertips, communicator, infrared, and recording device in the mask itself. And yes, it can cancel your speech patterns if that's what you want. That includes your oxygen tank in the mouth piece."

"Explains why the ears are so long." Dick said, touching the mask as it drooped in Del's hands. If he didn't know any better he'd say the girl was overwhelmed. Bruce expected a lot of things; her silence wasn't one of them. He moved to the next sheet, letting the glow of the monitors fall on the black and red suit.

"I can't say I've had two robins at once, to keep the chatter clear, you're Red Robin."

"This is unnecessary."

"Damian."

Tim on the other hand seemed unruffled, he simply nodded.

"Here's how this is going to work out, and if it doesn't I'll be bashing your heads together." Bruce said, leading his minions across the cave floor. "While I'm stuck here, Dick will use the bat-suit. Damian, you're with him."

"What?! You want to put me with Grayson?!"

"I can't let you go off on your own. You clearly can't work with Tim. That leaves Dick or Del. And while I know your sister can keep you in check, I don't know if I trust you two together. So that leaves you with Dick. Robin stays with Batman. Period."

"Hey, I'm not thrilled about it either." Dick put in, watching Bruce put his fingers to his forehead as if he were already regretting this.

"Del you and Tim team up. We'll work out a rotation schedule."

"So Bat-girl gets the most advanced suit?" Damian asked.

"Jelly much?"

The boy's face twisted into a smirk. "No, it just means you can't hack it without the technology."

"As I recall you were bleeding as much as I was this morning." Del shot back, making sure to smile. He loved it when she did that. Maybe pissing off a psychopath isn't the smartest idea, but it can definitely pass the time.

"ALFRED! ASPIRIN!"

Bruce had just put his fingers to his temples when the alarm on the computer began to scream, sending the bats in frenzy. "Suit up!" The man didn't have to say it twice; he simply sank into his chair, listening to their feet as they scurried around him.

Del glanced up at the computer, studying the young face on the screen. As a socialite her father always had contingency plans for the event that she herself was kidnapped. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine what it would be like to be held hostage by Killer Croc.

"Del! Quit standing around!" But the girl simply reached over him, setting a pack of aspirin in front of him.

"Take these and go to bed." She told him. "We'll link up with Oracle tonight."

He just stared at her. "Dad, you're going to have to trust us." You have to trust that she'll make the most of what you taught her.

The sharp corners of the packet felt as though they were cutting into his palm. "Del…" Her busy fingers fell from her braided hair as she stalked toward her bike. Even though she had tried so hard to keep her hair pinned out of the way, Bruce could still see the fine dark wisps framing her face.

Lifting her eyes to him, her mouth opened and then closed again, forcing the girl to sigh when the words wouldn't come out so willingly. "I'll be okay." She told him, her fingers curling into the fabric of her mask. Her words may have been marked with confidence, but all Bruce could see was fear shining back at him.

"I know." He murmured, unsure if she even heard him over the roar of her bike. She was his daughter after all, but the thought didn't lift weight off his shoulders. Alone with the bats, the man reached into his pocket, revealing the small alabaster shell in the glow of the computer. Like so many nights before the man didn't budge, he simply waited, squeezing the shell into his palm as if it would soak up his doubts. Something, something wasn't right, and these children weren't ready. He wasn't ready.