A/N: It's time to draw this story to a close. Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story and left a review, followed, and added as a favorite. I can't express my gratitude enough. :)

If you can, please take a moment to tell me what you think. Would you like to see a continuation? Would you like to see Ara in future works? Let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.

"I didn't think Talia would give us up so easily," Ara said, the breeze blowing strands of her hair back. Damian and the young girl had chosen to take a walk around the manor grounds, the same route they'd taken when he'd introduced her to the manor. It hadn't been that long ago, but there was a completely different feel to the air; it felt like years had passed. But the differences were good; there was no tension between them, and Ara had retired her customary black for a blue shirt and gray pants.

It had been a week since the incident on the ship, and everything afterwards in the city had gone on relatively quietly. If they stood back and took a look around, it was as if the whole incident never had happened at all. Damian wasn't allowed to patrol, but he was secretly glad for the break. His mother's words were still fresh in his mind, often coming to haunt him late at night as he lay awake in bed. Despite his inner conflicts, Gotham had returned to normal. Even Todd had gone back to prowling the city on his own terms, although before leaving he had stated that he'd visit more often.

Maybe Damian had intrigued his older brother more than he thought.

"She realized that I've changed," Damian told Ara, hands shoved into his jean pockets. "There is no coming back from what I have been exposed to."

"I can agree with that," Ara stated, brushing her hair behind her ear. "We've learned too much to do otherwise."

Damian hadn't shared the conversation he'd had with his mother with anyone other than Ara. While Bruce and his brothers had attempted to pry, Damian had quickly dismissed all of their concerns. The conversation had felt too intimate, too personal, to share with anyone but the one person who was just as affected as he was. Even still, he'd left out any parts of their interaction that crossed the line between informational and familial. "Perhaps this is her way of giving me a second chance."

"She's your mother," Ara said, looking to him. "It's only natural that she would want what is best for her son."

The words whispered in his mind again, and Damian quickly shut them out. He stopped walking, causing her to do the same beside him. He turned to the girl, taking his hands out of his pockets. "This is not just about me, Ara. You can never return home. The Silent Hand…"

He didn't want to think about the punishment she'd receive if she ever did. Imagining that, or attempting to, was enough to send a chill down his spine. Damian shoved the images away, keeping them far from consideration.

"I know," Ara answered when Damian failed to finish. "My disobedience will not be taken lightly. I don't think Talia will sell me out, at least not right away. But I can never go back there."

"I insist that you stay here," Damian told her, the decision coming easily to him.

She shook her head, "I have caused enough trouble. My presence is…damaging."

"Nonsense," he said, looking at her sternly. "We will not cast you out into the streets, Reign. There is nowhere else for you to go, and nowhere nearly as safe."

"And letting little girls roam the streets unprotected goes against our morals." They two children turned their heads as Grayson came over, a half smile on his face. "Damian is right though. You should stay."

"I won't be a bother?" Ara asked, tipping her head to the side. Damian understood why it didn't sound so genuine coming from his eldest brother who had assumed she was the enemy beforehand.

Grayson chuckled, "The only way you'll be a bother is if you leave and we have to chase you down. Again."

Damian bit back a grin, not voicing that he too had been in on that. As much as Grayson could be annoying, the ten year old could see the point that he was trying to make. He wanted Ara to stay, and while he could be a convincing person when it came to logic, his brother had the gift of persuasion. In this case, it would take a little bit of both to win. Damian turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, "I would stay to hear your bickering, but I have things to attend to. Don't aggravate her too much, Grayson."

He heard the chuckling behind him, and while they could not see he cracked a smile. The wind came at his back, and as he walked it carried him back to the manor.

And that was how Dick found himself face to face with a conflicted ten year old girl.

Granted, she didn't seem that unsure of herself. In fact Ara stood quite confidently in front of him, as if she expected there to be some sort of argument between them. At the same time, Dick noted, there was a playful gleam in those dark eyes of hers, like she was considering whether or not she'd give him a hard time. It was only when she tipped her head to the side that Dick realized he had taken too long to speak. He'd been observing her, noticeably, and by the look on her face she clearly was aware of that. While before he would have certainly felt aggravation, he could only laugh at her now. "What is that look for?"

"You did say that once we were off the ship I could think of you how I wished," Ara said, the playfulness turning to a sly smirk on her lips.

"I'm guessing that you've already made up your mind?" Dick said, and though he was playing along he also felt nervousness creep up on him. Maybe he could turn around and change his ways, but that didn't mean Ara would do the same. He couldn't really offer up a good argument for her to do so either.

"I have," Ara said, pausing as if for effect and then saying, "Richard Grayson, you are a paranoid, overprotective, judgmental person…"

Ouch. That hurt more than he wanted to admit.

"…who was smart and determined enough to keep his family safe. The decisions you made were for the good of those at Wayne Manor. And I admire your heart. I admire your protectiveness, rightful paranoia, and excellent judgment of character." Ara's small smirk melted into a genuine smile, erasing any ill feelings that Dick had suspected she held towards him.

The first thing he did was breathe a sigh of relief—a breath that he knew very well he'd been holding the entire time. Then he started laughing; whether it was because he was so delighted that they were reconciling or he just didn't believe that this was happening he wasn't sure. Ara didn't join in, but her smile grew a little wider. Dick collected himself, swallowing down anymore laughter that wanted to escape him and then said, "I guess giving me a chance isn't so bad."

"Technically, I'm handing out a second chance," Ara replied, and this time she narrowed her eyes slightly and said, only half seriously, "Don't mess it up."

"I'll do my best," Dick promised, running a hand through his black hair. "Waynes are notorious for making mistakes."

"Unfortunately it's a curse that we haven't figured out how to break," Tim's voice interjected, and he came up to the two of them, smiling. There was a sort of pride in Tim's expression nowadays, Dick noticed, and he had a few assumptions as to why. Voicing them, however, wasn't in his interests. He'd rather the reason remain ambiguous to him.

Tim stopped beside Ara, asking her, "Damian mentioned that he had a talk about where you're going to stay."

Ara shrugged slightly, then held up her hands in an exasperated motion, "I am fully capable of surviving on my own, but apparently that would demoralize everyone here. If I am wished to stay…"

"I think we're all in agreement with that," Dick said, and Tim nodded to confirm his opinion.

"Then I have no other choice," Ara said, "By loyalty standards, I've essentially gone rouge."

Dick pointed out, "That's not such a bad thing in this case." Getting a ten year old away from their assassin heritage was an area that the family seemed to be excelling in. It came with benefits, and they were sure to make the best of the adjustment this time as well.

Tim put a hand on her shoulder, "You've got talent, Ara. It's just being put to the wrong use. If you'll let me help, we can put those skills into a better way of using them."

Ara's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she nodded and smiled, "Yes, I would like that."

Dick chuckled, "Now if only Damian had been this easy to deal with."

Finding his father wasn't that hard of a task. There were two places within the manor that he had the most chance of being in; either the cave or his office. This time Damian found his father in the office, gazing out the window at the manor grounds. As soon as the young boy entered, he turned from the glass to face his son, his expression strangely expectant. "Back so soon?"

"Grayson wanted a word with her," Damian replied, walking over and stopping in front of the desk. He didn't bother to take a seat. "I am putting my trust him to not make any foolish decisions."

Half of a smile came onto Bruce's face, and then his expression became more serious. It would have bothered Damian more, but he had already guessed just what his father was going to say. "I know that you'd rather me not pry, Damian but…are you alright?"

He could feel the shadow of his mother's embrace around his ribs and arms. Her voice was a distant memory when she had whispered in his ear. A stab of pain went through him, and then as quickly as it had come he pushed it aside. "Yes, Father. What happened on the ship is over with."

Bruce was quiet, watching him for a minute. Damian didn't dare to show anything in fear of giving himself away, and so he stood as still as possible and met his father's gaze. Then Bruce came around the side of the desk, coming over to him. "I didn't choose you to be Robin just because you are my son."

Admittedly, the comment caught Damian off guard. His expression flashed confusion, and Bruce continued, "It's not the reason that I chose anyone to be Robin. What I saw in you, Damian, was a fighting soul that needed to be guided."

He found himself afraid to meet his father's eyes, but he did. Secretly he'd expected to find some sort of disappointment in his eyes, but there was instead a gleam of satisfaction; dare he say pride. Bruce smiled a little, "Ever since then I've watched your progress. And even through the mistakes, you are still doing well. I am proud of you, Damian. I am proud to have you as my son and my partner."

Bruce put his hand on Damian's shoulder, looking at him with slight worry. "No matter what was said just know that—"

"I am Robin," Damian said, more confidently than he ever thought possible. "I belong in Gotham, Father. That is what I am certain of now."

"So there aren't any regrets?" Bruce seemed hesitant to ask the question.

Damian shook his head, "None. I may have almost been taken back into my past, but there is no going back. I've learned more than I ever thought possible about myself."

He smiled, almost sadly, "This has been more than just an unfortunate reminder."

Bruce's shoulders fell slightly in relief; Damian didn't mention that he had noticed. His father ruffled his hair affectionately, and Damian scoffed but didn't bat his hand away for once. Bruce added, "You're still not allowed on patrol for a while; I'm not giving up the punishment. But when we're back out on the field together…I will be looking forward to it, is all."

Damian smiled, brighter than perhaps he ever had in his life. The office door opened, and his brothers appeared in the doorway with Ara between them. Her expression was eager, and he almost laughed. Dick said with a grin, "I know that patrol is off limits, but a little training reinforcement never hurt. How about it?"

Behind him, Damian could tell that Bruce was smiling in approval. He'd probably had it all this time, and the ten year old was glad he could finally see it.

Damian smirked, "Bring it on, Grayson."