A/N: Here we go again. On a side note, I know that this story has some rough patches and such. I've been printing this out a chapter a time and giving it edits and rewrites. But I'll start adding them in once the entire draft has been posted, I'd like to see if you guys have any unanswered questions from the plot when it's complete. If so, then I can go back and adjust it accordingly as I edit. It's a manuscript that will probably end up in my desk drawer, but hey it's something to cut my teeth on for practice's sake. And no, I haven't forgotten about Alfred or his promise!


"She's my daughter!"

"Then fucking act like it!"

As the soft glow of shimmering lights seeped into my vision, I could feel my mind trying to slip into my memory as if it were wading into the water, trying to remind me slowly where I was. I didn't recognize this darkness, or the stiff gray couch I was curled up on. Gathering my bearings I could smell the light scent of cologne. A scent that wasn't too familiar with my fuzzy brain. Had I not recognized the black coat that strung over me like an impromptu blanket, I wouldn't have placed it with my father.

Wrapping it closer around me I buried my face into it, feeling my chest bow on the inhale of a memory, when the voices I knew began to bleed from the walls.

"Look at what you do. Look at how much your parents meant to you…do you think for a second you don't mean that much to her?"

My knees felt hard under my chin. I've heard them argue before, but never…never about me. Pressing my palms into my ears, I stared out the window, watching the lights below flicker. Red. Green. Red. Green. Don't listen. Don't listen; you won't like it.

"Oh, Christmas Tree, Oh, Christmas Tree, your branches green delight us…" I couldn't even here my own shaky words over them.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the elevator gape, letting Alfred pass through with his tower of brightly colored bags and tissue paper. The second he set his bags down, I could see his brow wrinkling as he stared toward the hall.

"That's none of your concern!"

"Like hell! She's my little sister."

"She isn't your sister."

"Would you listen to yourself? Are you that jealous? What? Am I supposed to let someone like Bird snatch her? Why the hell was he sniffing around anyway? He knows something, Bruce, what are you not telling me?!"

I closed my eyes, hoping the darkness would making it easier to forget where I was, but when a hand touched my chin, my eyes flew open on their own accord, taking in the old man who was sitting on his haunches in front of me. His weathered face creased with concern.

"You all right, Poppet?"

I think that was the only time he'd ever broken his protocol. Terms of endearment weren't really his style. Only when I nodded, did he rise to his feet. "I wish they'd stop." I whispered, as their voices tanked to a murmur I could no longer understand, and yet the tension was still as thick as it had been when I opened my eyes.

Patting me on the head, he slipped down the hall. I couldn't even hear his footsteps. "Bloody hell you two! Knock it off! It's Christmas Eve for heaven's sake!" Then his voice dropped so low, that there was nothing but the husk of a far off voice that my ears could trace.

Only by the hum of Christmas music below this place could I count the moments that passed. I can't say I didn't jump when a slamming door shook the quiet. Carefully I slid from the couch, peeking around to see who was emerging from the small dark corridor. The second Nightwing saw me wringing my small fingers as I blocked his path, all the angry lines that marred his face fell.

"H-hey, Kiddo."

I can still see him squeezing the back of his neck as his eyes fell on me, trying to make a smile that didn't quite come to life. Even when I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him, he seemed to hesitate. And the more he wavered, the harder I squeezed, as if I could feel him trying to slip away from me. But just as I thought my body would start to shake from how hard I was clinging to him, he crumbled, scooping me up as if I were nothing more than a bag of potatoes.

"You better stop fighting." I mumbled into his suit, letting the relief swallow me whole. "You'll end up with coal."

"Crap. I just got off the naughty list."

Wrapping my arms as far as I could around him, I could see the outline of my father's silhouette in the hall. "I'll put in a good word for you." I offered, pecking him on the cheek. "You're my brother after all." When he squeezed me, I wasn't sure I could breathe. As if he needed to hear the words as much as I needed to say them. I'll be honest - I wanted the shadow in the hall to hear them too.

"And that would be why you're the best kid ever." His words felt like a hum as he set me to my feet.

"See you in the morning?

"Yes, Ma'am." With that he kissed me on the top of my head, before slipping a small brown paper bag into my hands. I just stood there, watching him slip out to the patio and into the darkness, leaving me with a sulky Bruce Wayne.


If it hadn't been for the reverberating carols rising from the street, the silence would have been deafening. Even Alfred moved quietly, buzzing around like he wasn't up to a single thing. My father was the quietest of us all, leaning motionless against the glass, his pale blue eyes staring at the world as it rushed merrily along below us. If I didn't see his reflection blink, I would have been sure he wasn't alive at all.

"Dad?" I bit my cheek, chastising myself for the weakness that wormed its way into my voice. And yet, the man didn't even lift his head.

"Yes Del?" Such soft bitterness. My fingers curled into the worn paper bag.

"Are we—are we going back to the manor?" I asked, rubbing my thumbs on the tatty paper bag. Ducking my gaze I could see him lifting his head, his eyes searching the ceiling as his chest rose. "You and Alfred will, when it's dark enough." Right. I couldn't be seen. It wasn't safe.

"What about you?"

My father let his arms slide down to his sides, letting his gaze return to the city as it slowly began to glow one building at a time. "I'll be here tonight." I knew it wasn't the view he wasn't the skyscrapers or the stars he was looking for. Christmas Eve and my father didn't want to come home.

"But Dad…" My teeth dug into my lip the moment the words slipped out. I couldn't take back the droning plea, knowing full well that whining was one of those things that my father couldn't put up with with. It had the man turning toward me fast enough that I felt something in me begging to jump back. But I kept myself rooted to where I stood.

"But what? What Del?" The words were enough to make Alfred's reflection pup up in the kitchen. I squeezed the buttery bag as tight as the paper would allow.

"Can't I say?" I whispered, trying to ignore the soreness that ached up my throat like a sob. I didn't want to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Bruce Wayne's shoulders seemed to sag as he breathed, as if he were trying to remind himself to curb his words. "Why? Why on earth would you want to stay here on Christmas Eve?" You know Christmas tree and all that stuff is at the Manor." Even I knew it was a struggle.

Behind me I could hear Alfred clearing his throat. "That's not entirely true…Sir."

"Alfred-"

"You're here." I said fisting my fingers so tight I could feel my own nails biting into my palm. His grim mouth seemed to drop a little just as I let my eyes settle on my hands. "I mean, I know they might need you, but you're here now." I think it was then I began to concede to the fact that Gotham would always come first.

I could hear my father's sigh dragging from his lungs. "Alfred…"

"Of course, Sir. Though I doubt we have a tree here."

"Why do we need a tree?" I asked, looking from the old man to my father's stoic face. "Have you guys not seen that big thing?" I pointed at the window, paying no mind to Alfred's soft shrug before he disappeared into the unexplored rooms.

Taking a deep breath I waded closer to the windows, easing myself on the floor. And even though the man beside me made no motion of any kind, I could feel him watching me. Pressing a hand to the glass, I wiped away the film the heat had created against the icy windows.

"Want to people watch with me?"

My words seemed to take him aback. "Don't look at me like that." I said opening the bag in my lap, filling the air with aroma of cinnamon and sugar. "Batman does it all the time."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, I guess that's surveillance, huh?"

I could see his reflection giving up a ghost of a smile. "Not all the time." I tried not to let my lips break as the man toed off his shoes. Instead I popped a chestnut in my mouth, trying to pay no attention to him as he eased himself onto the floor, except to offer the bag to him.

I can't imagine what Alfred thought of us as we sat there, talking about the lives we imagined for unsuspecting souls below us while we popped chestnuts into our gobs. We even went so far as to bet nuts on who in the ice rink would crash and burn. But the old man seemed to just shake his head at us as he brought out a few small boxes from the darkness, shaking off the dust and years of memories. It was as if he knew there was one in the making. All he had to do…was let it happen.

"What are you looking for?" I could feel the cold air just inches from the glass, and yet only his soft whisper seemed to remind me that he was still there. The streets had lulled, the rink had emptied, and somehow…my father was still sitting beside me.

"The stars…" I whispered back, aware that my breath had all but fogged up the glass. But even from the tip of Wayne Tower, I could see nothing but heavy gray clouds and bright beams of light choking up the sky. "…but I don't think you can see them from here."

Only the stretch of my father's hand brought my eyes back down to the window. In silence his finger prints dotted the fog, letting the shimmer of Christmas lights pierce through. I could feel my lips pulling when his hand fell to his lap.

"The Big Dipper." I chimed, not hesitating to put my fingertips to the cold window as I connected the dots he had made. Mine however left such smaller imprints, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Little Dipper." He said, watching me as I made my last 'star' a little bigger than the rest.

"North Star."

"Polaris." He added with a gentle nod to my fat print. "Now let's see if I remember how this goes…"

Pressing my knees into the marble I scooted closer, watching him add lines to the drawings we had made on the window. "Ursa Major. And Ursa Minor. Large Bear…and-"

"Little Bear." I supplied, knowing full well there was a reason for the wispy smile that seemed to tug at the corner of his mouth. "Who taught you those?" I asked, finding a fresh piece of window to dot.

"My Dad." The words came softly, adding a new layer of mist on the glass.

"And you just taught me…" I added, bumping him with my shoulder. "So, what else do you know?"

Somewhere between Draco and Leo, I began to realize I couldn't feel my fingers. Standing in my father's shadow, I could see the sky we had all but mapped out on the windows. But in the marks I could see the yellow gleam of the Bat-signal breaking through the clouds. I grabbed his hand, feeling the icy touch of his fingertips as they gripped in return.

"Dad…" I don't know where he disappeared to, but the word seemed to peel him from his reverie with a blink.

"Yes Del?"

"They're calling for you…" I said, nodding to the light in the sky. His hand unwrapped mine and before I could even turn to look at him, he was making his way into another room. "Dad?" One would think the word had struck him with the way he steeled himself on the doorframe, titling an ear to the air for whatever I might say and yet everything that had welled up, every thought and every word that had been so ready to come from my mouth all but choked.

"See you in the morning?"

With the nod of a shadow I let Alfred beckon me away, making promises of sweet treats and sappy Christmas movies until I could toss my cookies on an overdose of cheer. I spent the remainder of the night sitting on the floor waiting to see the bat-signal fade from the night. I'm afraid I saw the back of my eyelids first.


"Oh, now, Miss Wayne…" But all the old butler could do was stand there, shaking his head at the silhouette of a the child's small body lying there in front of the window, a particular coat crumbled beneath her head. In the flash of lights cascading from the plaza he worked the sleeping girl off the floor, leaving the expensive thing right where it lay. In the midst of lifting the tiny heiress, the man was caught by the sight of his name etched there on the glass.

"Leo? Well now, Miss." He whispered, feeling the child's head come to lull against his shoulder. "If it's a lion you need, a lion I shall be." Staring at the map pressed there in the fog of the windows, it only filled the man with a feeling that could only be bitter-sweet. After all, his name was not the only one there stamped out in her small finger prints. There was an arrow pointing to the fattest star on little dipper with 'Dick' written beside it.

Juggling her weight in his arms he simpered at the name, realizing she had added her own beneath Ursa Minor in its entirety. And there beneath Ursa Major was a three letter word for Bruce filled with the small loops of her thumbprints. Perhaps she stood some kind of chance of pulling her reserved father from the depths of his splintered mind, even if it were for mere moments. Toting her off into the darkness it dawned on him that perhaps moments were all the child would get but with luck, Dick would show her how to survive on those alone.


"Alfred… "

Alfred Pennyworth clutched the door knob, trying to brace himself when the inquisitive voice reached his ears. Twisting his gray head around he pressed a finger to his lips as he pulled the door closed. "What have I told you two about that sneaking around?" He chided, shaking his head as the caped crusader pulled the cowl from his face. Beyond him, he could make out the shape of Dick's lanky shadow as he stared up at the window, his hands pressed into his back. They smelled of ash and gunpowder, no doubt yet another eventful night. But on closer inspection his old eyes saw nothing but minor scrapes and scratches. Good. He had other things to do. He didn't smirk at the man when he shook his head, but rather watched him as he eased by.

"I put her in your bed I'll have you know. Santa was using this place as his hiding spot this year, threw a rather large kink in his plans to know the child was staying here." He said, watching the man pause as he pushed the door open. Batman thought of everything…except that.

"Its fine, Alfred." As if he'd sleep. Maybe that would happen – in another life. In the faint firelight that cut through the darkness, he could see the soft tendrils of her untangled braids falling over her small face like a curtain, small fingers twitching into fists in her sleep. A part of the father lingering the doorway was urging him to move forward. To put her drooping head back on a pillow, and yet all Wayne could manage to do was shut the door without a sound.

"So you're Leo, huh? What? You guys get bored?"

"That would be the little Mistress's doing—with a little help from Master Bruce of course."

The man let his fingers uncurl from the doorknob, letting his curiosity pull his eyes to the window. Seeing that the child had tagged them there in the fog, the shaky letters seemed to pull him closer.

"I'm gonna head off, I'll drop by in the morning."

"Oh will you now?"

"Yeah, I have it on good authority that the squirt would like to have a family breakfast."

"She didn't say anything to me."

"You're good, Al, just not as good as me. Even Santa needs help."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the gleam of Dick's teeth in one of his goofy smiles as he bent down to sweep his coat off the floor. "Go home, Dick."

"You're sticking around for the morning, right?"

Bruce stared at the long strands of hair he pulled from his coat, but knowing the young man's shadow was still lingering in the doorway he sighed. "If I say yes will you go home?"

"Sure, Boss."

"Then yes."

"Merry Christmas, Al. You too, you grump."

"Merry Christmas, now go."

With Dick's departure the penthouse grew quiet, filled with the soft hissing of the fire. Even the old man beside him was quiet, eyes staring up at the same window. "I think the young mistress would be lost without that boy."

"Good thing he's the North Star then…" Bruce murmured, his glove smudging the fog beside the three letter word she had left behind for him.


We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Good tidings we bring to you and your kin…

Christmas music? Oh, God. Wasn't it still November? The dim light didn't come easily, the moment her lashes pried themselves apart she was suddenly aware of everything. The touch of the cold metal table. The burn of salt in her nose and that ever hanging ache of her chest that persisted with every breath.

"Christmas music…the turkey hasn't even hit the table." The words felt brittle in her mouth, fragile as ash and just as dry. "Twisted people…"

"See? I told you guys she'd come around. All that crap you carry around and not one of you had smelling salts?"

Barbra.

It took the girl a moment, as she tried to grab her bearings, swinging her legs off the table; she tried to pull herself to sit up, more than aware of someone's cold hands keeping her steady. "Easy. One step at a time." Dick cautioned.

"The new Bat Girl." The girl let her eyes slide to the redhead in the wheelchair. The impromptu sister, the voice of reason when Dick was lacking in that department. Her predecessor-the original Bat Girl.

"It's about damn time." The woman said, smacking her on the knee.

"So…so you knew?"

"Oh, Dick and I have been tossing it around after he told me about your little arrangement." She said, pushing her chair back. "Of course you went out on your own behind our backs…"

"You would have told him."

Barbra tilted her head, pursing her lips. "We'll never know now, will we?"

"Speaking of him, I don't know what he did to this, but this shouldn't happen!"

The girl didn't know if she was too surprised to see Sam sitting there with her suit, or if her aching ribs just wouldn't let her lungs budge. "Sam…"

"Who the fuck else would it be? Mary Poppins doesn't fix this kind of shit." The girl's lips threatened to twist into a smile, and yet she could only feel a frown pulling on her face. She knew…but how much did she know?

"Uh…Sam… you didn't happen to turn off the link in the cowl did you?" When the girl just tilted her head, Del could feel her own cheeks warming. "He can probably hear you…"

"Wha-"

"What do you mean?" But even as Dick's words hit the air, she could see Barb making that face.

"He took over my communication link with her."

"And you didn't say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well I-"

"I wouldn't have gotten through tonight without him." Del interjected. But as the words left her mouth the girl only felt the sting of honesty. What would have happened if he didn't walk her through the darker parts of the night? "I-I still have a lot to learn." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Dick's mouth falling open, but before anything could work its way out of his mouth, a pair of voices began to echo through the clock tower.

"Oh, shut it Drake!"

"No! Why didn't you tell anyone? You guys could have-"

"Leave him alone, Tim." Just before her, the girl could see the pair of shadows pausing at her low command.

"She's doing that for your benefit, not mine." You're wrong. But the words only hung around her head, not even willing to make the trek to her lips. Instead she could only sit there, willing her lungs to breathe as Tim moved closer, leaving the boy standing there at a window.

"You're alive."

"I think so." She whispered, hating every vowel that had to come out of her mouth. Oh, everything hurt. Talking, breathing-hell it hurt just to exist.

"You cracked a couple ribs." Barbra told her, resting her pixie chin in her hand. "These knuckleheads thought you had a heart attack." With that she pointed a finger at Dick. "You owe me a window!"

When the teen looked in Dick's direction he had his hand on his neck and his eyes to the floor, his cape swishing with the subtle movements. "Yeah…I said I was sorry didn't I?"

"Only like ten times! Jesus, Barb. Let it go. Batman breaks windows."

"And keeps stuff…" But Sam only held up her hand.

"I'm on a need to know basis, and I don't need to know!" She said quickly, not even sparing Del a glance as she capped off the split wires in the suit before her. "But that doesn't surprise me…" With that the girl swiveled in her stool. "You know what? It explains a hell of a lot."

Del wanted to shrug but the second her shoulders lifted to make the motion the girl couldn't stop herself from hissing. But as the girl forced herself upright once more, she could see Barbra jerking her head to the other room, without a word, Dick followed her, leaving the teens to stare.

"Those two…"

"You picked... up on that?"

Sam pushed her glasses back to the bridge of her nose. "Hell, how can you not?"

Fingers clinging into the table Del could feel the metal shake as Tim leaned against it. His eyes however weren't on the current Batman or the former Bat Girl. He was watching the boy climb the stairs to the top of the clock tower.

"That kid's a piece of work…"

With the satisfying ache of her teeth biting into her lip, she lifted her eyes watch the boy slip from her sight. "He is..." she offered sorely. "But you have no idea what he goes through." At the words her eyes slipped down to her arm and the layer of gauze that seemed to keep it intact. "I didn't know either…" she whispered, feeling the dimples of the fabric under the pads of her fingers. "Did he tell you what happened?"

But the young man beside her only sighed and shook his head. "He only said he had a run in with a group of assassins. And that you tried to help him."

Del could have rolled her eyes. If it didn't ache so badly she would have called Damian out. "I…see. So he didn't tell you that…his mother was among them? Or…that she shoved him off the roof?"

With only a wide eyed response from the pair of them, Del slid from the table, feeling her body cringe when Tim reached over to keep her from stumbling down to the floor. "That first step is the worst." He said, letting her go when she righted herself.

"Sam… Can you let him know I'll…talk to him in a second?"

"Oh, hell no. Need to know basis remember? I'm just fixing this atrocity. I gave him permission to use my material. Not to butcher it." She hissed, swatting Tim out of her space when he scooped the mask off her table.

"That's been sitting next to me all this time?"

"Yup."

"Shit."


"Hey…" Staring into the darkness, there was a moment she thought the boy hadn't heard her; he was standing there in front of the window, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He didn't even bother to look at her when she settled beside him. "You okay?"

"Better shape than you."

Del pressed her fingers into the fog her breath had made, letting the lights of the city bleed through.

"Physically yeah…but my mom didn't just try to kill me." She whispered, feeling the boy's eyes on her now.

"Oh? So now you're suddenly worried about my psyche?"

"It's not like that…I didn't know-"

"Oh please, do we really have to stress about how much you don't know? We'll be here all night." He sneered, turning away from the window. "Do yourself a favor, stop acting like you care, it makes you look foolish. You don't know the first thing about me."

"I know …you want their approval. You want it so bad that you've had to kill for it." The words came quickly as if doing so would keep the simple action from aching. But it stopped him. She couldn't hear the sound of his feet on the metal stairs.

"It doesn't last…does it?"

"I could have had it, but you took the choice away from me!"

It was enough to have her turning around. "You had the chance…and you didn't take it. You could have killed me…"

"So did you!"

"I had no intention of drawing on you. Then or ever."

"Why?! She would have seen! She would have seen that I taught you! She would've-

"What? Let me live? Damian…I'm in your way. I stand between you and an empire that would look nice in their crown." The girl bit her lip as her voice echoed down the stairwell. "Which one of us is being foolish now?"

"Why the hell do you care?!"

"Because someone should! Because I'm you're sister and that's what family is supposed to do."

"I don't need you! "

"Right, so was I supposed to let you fall to your death? I take it you didn't need me then." She said, sitting down on the step beside him, trying to keep her face from screwing with the pain. "Look, you and I may not always agree. Sometimes you're a self-righteous ass. And I'm always going to be a bossy bitch. But we do have a few things in common."

"I doubt it."

"We're both competitive. Neither one of us knows when to quit. Stubbornness? We've got it in spades. We're both prideful. And we both strive for approval. I mean…look at us. Normal kids don't do this shit." She said gesturing to his suit. "Yeah, I've got my own reasons for doing it, but I know at the same time I'm hoping that he might take notice. This was the first time in all this time that I've ever come this close." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. But honesty was hardly ever sweet. Strange, their lives couldn't be more different and in the end they both craved the same things.

"You're close with father, don't patronize me."

"We understand each other is all. But that didn't happen overnight, that took years of tiptoeing and lots personal space. It's just every now and then…he'll let his guard down." Or someone would shove us together. Her thoughts were tangling with the soft tick of the clock when she realized the boy next to her had caught her simpering to herself.

"How the hell did you turn out like this?"

"Mom. Alfred. Barb. Dick. Definitely, Dick. Sprinkle in some of Dad and his moral compass…and you get a Del.

"Grayson…I should've known."

"It also helps if your favorite hero also turns out be your father."

"You didn't know?"

"No, not at first. He was just this crazy guy that Mom didn't mind that I idolized. Hell, I didn't even know I was a Wayne. Mr. Wayne was just someone my mom worked for that was nice to me. "

"Mother told me all that from day one. It was a part of the grooming process. I used to look him up on the internet." Damian's voice lowered to a lull. "I knew about you." He added, glancing at her with that stoic face. "Mother preferred not to mention you at all, of course. You didn't exist in her world."

Del couldn't help but rolled her eyes. "I would've been more surprised if she had." She muttered. "I'm the other woman's child. She still that hung up on Dad?"

"Beloved." The word left the boy's lips in a scoff, unwittingly pulling his sister's mouth into a smirk.

"Indeed." With that she smacked the kid on the leg. "You're stuck with me. I'm stuck with you. "

"I can rectify that. I know a thousand ways to kill you."

The girl winced as she pulled herself up by the railing. "A thousand?" she asked easing herself down the stairs. "I only need one." Had she not looked over her shoulder she might have missed the flash of a smirk that crawled over the boy's face. "Look, I just wanted you to know that no matter what the stupid adults in your life do…I've got your back…even if you do irritate the fuck out of me."

"Great…all the easier for you to stab, right?"

But his sister only paused, staring up at him as she reached the floor, her lips pursing together. "You're the expert with the sharp pointy objects. You tell me, would it be?"

"Tch."

"That's what I thought." With that the teen turned away, leaving him stooped on the top step. "And Damian…Dad saw everything."


The tall towers glowed like beacons in the darkness beyond her reach as the traffic sped along so unaware of what had transpired just hours ago. And if they knew, perhaps they didn't care. "I could've ridden my bike home." Del muttered, blinking against the headlights of the oncoming traffic, knowing full well they wouldn't be on the highway much longer.

"I'm not saying you couldn't, more like you shouldn't. What? Don't trust Damian with your bike?"

The girl sniffed, watching her brother glance at her from his misty reflection. Beyond them the towers were waning, giving to trees and earth, soon she would be able to see nothing but shadows and the occasional headlight.

"It's not that…I trust him."

"Then what? We saved the kid and got the ransom back to boot." Feeling the push of his hand on her shoulder, Del pried her eyes from the window, catching the smile on Dick's face. "Hell, I'm even driving the Bat-mobile. Don't start getting all broody on my now! Damn, you and your old man are alike."

Del felt her lips twitch, trying to pull into a smirk or some wisp of a smile, but in the glow of the dashboard, she could only feel the heaviness of a frown. "I almost couldn't pull it off."

"But you did."

"If I didn't have Dad in my ear telling me what to do…I-"

"He only told you what to do. He didn't make it happen. You did." At his words the girl seemed to sink into her seat, letting her eyes return to the window, despite there being nothing but darkness for the eye. "Did he tell you to jump after Damian?"

With a glance he could see her pale blue eyes blinking at him. "How did you-"

"I eavesdropped on your little chat, c'mon, Batman 101. Now answer my question."

"No." The word slipped from her mouth like a whisper. "I don't even know what he said to me—I just reacted."

Staring up at him she could see his lips winding into a smirk. "See? You're just raw, that's all."

With her lip now too raw to bite on, the girl wrung her fingers letting the silence settle between them. But Dick Grayson and Silence never seemed to coexist in the same space for too long. "So, about the little demon…"

"He wants approval so bad he's willing to kill for it." The girl shook her head. "Has killed for it." The words came out slowly as if they'd somehow taste less unpleasant. "And…she…she just shoved him off the roof like…it didn't matter. Like he didn't matter." The man beside her seemed to exhale, a sigh filled with so many unspoken words.

"I know she's crazy, but fuck…"

"Saw yourself in him, didn't you?"

"Yeah…"

"I had a moment like that once. There was some kid in the house the kept having nightmares."

"Dude, I highly doubt he and I will ever be that close. He's just my brother." As strange as it sounded, Del knew it was true. Like him or hate him blood was blood, but the entire idea seemed amusing to the man next to her.

"Just your brother? What the hell am I? Chopped liver?"

"You dork…" Del muttered, closing her eyes as the car cut through the falls that sealed the opening of the cave from the outside world. "You're still my Polaris." Her father and Alfred kept her safe, kept her sheltered But neither one guided her through this life quite like Richard Grayson.


He knew just how many steps it took to make it from the cave to the door of his daughter's wing. From the moment she arrived home she had been in a flurry of activity and before he could even get a word in she fled up the stairs with a stack of folders pressed into her chest.

Peering into the lamp lit office, he could see her leaning back in her chair, screwing her face into a cup of tea that must have gone cold. The stack he had seen her with earlier was broken into neat piles. Jax noticed him first, dragging Del's attention away from the cove of monitors with the sound of his lazy barking. The dog didn't even try to get off the floor.

"Why not just make a copy from the bat-computer?"

"Helps commit it to memory if I put it in by hand." She said softly, twisting her chair toward the door. "Talked to Damian yet?"

"Yes. You know-"

But with the thud of her cup, she held up her hand. "I don't care. He did what he had to. What did you expect him to do? Lay down and die?"

"That's not-"

"And don't even try to chastise me. I did the right thing."

"Will you shut your mouth for two seconds?!" At the sound of his echoing voice, she sunk in her chair. "Jesus, you and your mother…" He muttered crossing the threshold while there was still some silence.

"She used to do that when she was fired about something. There was no way to get a word in." Looking at his daughter now, she had her hands fisted in front of her mouth as she leaned on her elbows. She was watching him carefully as he eased himself into a chair across from her. How had she learned to mirror him so well?

"I made the mistake of asking her 'Are you done yet?' She let me have it." The girl let her hands fall, shaking her head as if she could shake off the pulling corners of her mouth. "Yes, you did do the right thing." Reaching across the desk he lifted her chin. "Maybe not the way I would have done it…but I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

With her chin resting on the pads of her father's fingers, Del could only blink up at the man, unsure of what to do with his offhanded praise. "I still…I still have a ways to go." She murmured, leaning back when his hand fell away.

"My first few times out there didn't go perfectly either… that's rare if you haven't noticed." At that the girl smirked at his gauze capped head.

"No kidding. How's the head?"

"Hurts, but I'll live. How's the arm and the ribs?"

"Can't feel the arm, I'm sure I'll feel it tomorrow. Cracked ribs suck." But as she answered it began to occur to her that her father didn't come here to compare injuries. "What's on your mind, Dad?" The words only made him lift his brow.

"I have a couple of things to talk to you about."

Uh oh. "Okay…"

"First…the Devereux family is in town."

Her grandmother's family? Del could feel her face falling slack. To be honest she knew little of them, say from the fact that they hailed Charleston, and were as polished as a silver spoon could possibly be. Oh from the bits she collected from her mother and even Alfred over the years she had a clue of what kind of people they were. Come to think of it, she needed to ask Alfred how he knew so much about her mother's estranged family.

Her grandmother had been cut off from the family after she married Noah Larson, a rough cut wanderer from Gotham that worked for the family as a hand. As the family predicted, the marriage hit rock bottom, forcing her grandmother and her mother to rely on the only family she had ever known. And while the matriarch took in her daughter and granddaughter, the rest of the family was far from kind.

"Yay?" Del squeaked, ignoring her father's frown. "Oh, come on Dad, the only peep I've ever heard from any of them... ever- is the occasional Christmas card."

"That's partly my fault."

"Yeah well, I don't have much memory of them before you, so...yeah. Doubt it."

"Anyway…you're great-grandmother would like to see you."

"Shocker."

"So I invited Lady Devereux to your birthday party."

"Lady? Party? Whoa! Time out!" Del cried, tapping her palm on her nails. "What party? No way. No thank you. Nuh-uh!"

"Del…it's your sweet sixteen."

"So!"

"So, in true Wayne fashion-"

"I hate you right now."

"We're going to make a big hoopla about it-"

"But-"

"-as expected."

The teen pressed her head into her folded arms, filling the room with the sound of a groan. "Uhh…Dad."

"I thought girls loved that sort of thing."

No sooner had the words left his lips did she raise her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not most girls. I like sharp objects, beating up bad guys, and running around the city dressed up as a bat. How do I fall into the normal category?!"

"It's a masquerade thing…so one out of three."

"How do you do it? How do you compartmentalize your life like this?! And how the hell is Gigi a lady?" She cried, noticing Alfred's shadow looming just in the doorway.

"Practice. And she married a titled same-namer…what ten years ago?"

"Isn't she 96 or something? That's not weird or anything..."

"97."

"I hate to interrupt, Master Bruce, but Miss Jet is here to see you."

At the news the teen simply flopped back into her chair. Oh, this night just kept getting better. Forcing herself up, she snapped up Jax's leash. "On that note, I'm taking Jax for a walk. He needs to stretch."

"Miss Wayne, you do realize what hour it is-"

"Yeah. Did you ask her that?" Del whispered, slipping out into the hall with a dazing dog in tow. "I'm just going around the property line."


Del found nothing amusing about running into her father's girlfriend in the wee hours of the morning. Just as the girl and her dog made it to the grand staircase, she met the redhead midway. "Delilah."

"Jet."

"Is that how you greet dignitaries?" The silky words forced the teen to pause right there on the stairs. That's right; the woman ran a small country now. A model turned president?

"Oh, I forgot the kind of women who creep their way up to a man at 3 in the morning were considered dignified. My bad."

"Miss Wayne!"

At the sound of Alfred's scolding voice, the girl fled down the stairs without so much as a glance back. Oh, she could only imagine the kind of scornful look that would be on Jezebel Jet's lovely face now. If it didn't hurt so bad, maybe she would have laughed, but she only settled for a smile as the pair swooped through the kitchen and into the darkness.


The sky was slowly churning to a deep inky black now that the clouds were all but spent, leaving a layer of sleet on the ground. It was enough to leave tracks but nothing more. With a cup of soup in one hand, and Jax's leash dangling in the other, the pair simply meandered around the property. The dog didn't seem to mind stopping to let his mistress peer up at the sky. Just through a hole in the layer of clouds, the stars seemed to peek through ever so shyly.

She had her head tilted back, her eyes trained on the sky, paying no mind to the wind as it tugged on her scarf, or twisted the small wisps of hair that had fallen from her braided up do. He was just beginning to like the look of wonder seemed to work its way across her face, but with a deep breath he reminded himself what he was there to do.

The dog at her side noticed him first, warning him with a snarling growl, but of course it was already too late. He was close enough. The gun came easily from its holster, and before she could even turn around, the barrel was pressed into the back of her head. She went completely still.

"Call off your dog."

"Jason?"

Her breath shuddered into the air as white and thick as a cloud, like the steam that was rolling off the cup in her hand. Even in this light he could see her dark lashes holding her eyes closed as the hammer clicked in her ear. It was ready to fire. "Down Jax…"

The dog obeyed, but his snarling continued to catch in the wind. "I'm supposed to kill you." He whispered, watching her shrug as his breath touched her ear. "They're starting to wonder why I haven't done it yet." Reaching over her, he relieved her hand of the warm cup, lest she get any ideas about throwing it in his face.

"Because you suck as an assassin. Couldn't kill Dad so now they send you after me?" Del lurched forward when the barrel jabbed her in the back of the head.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The words forced her to turn on her heel, aware he had lifted the gun in a striker's pose, but getting her ungloved hands in front of her first she shoved him, fisting her hand on the leash as the dog attempted to lunge forward. No. Not yet. She wanted answers first. "What do I mean? Don't fucking insult me!" she cried, too aware of the echo her hand made as it came down on his cheek. "You kicked him off a building! He could have died you son of a bitch!"

"Whoa! I never-."

"Like hell! I saw you with my own eyes! WHY?! WHY THE FUCK-"

"What building?!"

That's it! The second the leash drooped from her hand, the Doberman shot forward, giving the teen the opening to rip the gun away from Jason as he tried to beat the dog on the head with the firearm. He hit the ground, and before Del could let her next breath out, he had the dog motionless on the ground. Be damned if he wasn't still growling. But the second Jason looked up he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. Well shit. Covered in soup and sleet, he held up his empty hands. "Come on, you think that's the only gun I've got?"

"I know it's not."

"I don't know what you think you saw-"

"I know what I saw! Don't patronize me!" But Jason didn't seem to react, or at least not the way she wanted. He simply pulled another gun from his coat.

"Where? Where did this happen? I used the tunnels all the way to China Town! I never saw Bats! Come on, that would be low, even for me! Now call off your dog before I shoot it."

"Jax…stay." Oh, God. Why am I doing this? I should be filling his knees with rounds!" But no matter how she tried to will her fingers to move for the trigger, they wouldn't budge. She simply watched Jason untangle himself from Jax.

"He bit me."

"No shit."

Suddenly Jason had his hand on the barrel and was forcing the gun down. "Give me the gun, Del. You don't want to fire it any more than I want you to." He was right. Sure she knew how to take a gun apart and put it back together. She even knew how to make sure the safety was off, but had she ever fired a gun before? No…never. The piece slid from her fingers and disappeared into the back of his jeans.

For a moment nothing came from either of them except the white puffs of their breath as they slid out into the air. "Where? Where did this happen?"

"North of the shipyards."

"I want you to show me. Now."