Warnings: language

PART 1A NINE: Life Sucks

Elle

Life sucks. That's what teenagers say. That's what some adults say. That's the motto of this generation. Life sucks.

And it really does. It sucks the energy out of you. It sucks out your motivation and your dreams. But then it warps your reality. It sucks you into a new reality and then you have to start all over.

Over the years, you grow tired of doing the same repetitive motions every day: getting up, eating food, go to work, go to sleep. Over and over until you're just tired of it. You wonder what the point to continuing is. You wonder if there's anything out there that's more exciting. You wonder if you'll get back all of that energy ever again, but it's unlikely that you will.

As you grow older, you find it hard to motivate yourself to do anything because your dreams are just that: dreams. The reason you tried so hard in elementary school was so you could become a doctor, but then that dream dies out, and so does your motivation to get A's on all your tests. You try to pass high school so that you can get into university, but once you've made it, you're not motivated anymore. When you stop having dreams, you stop having that very important motivation that keeps you moving forward.

By sucking away your dreams, life shows you a new reality, one where it just isn't possible to achieve greatness or whatever it was that you'd wanted to do. You wanted to be the first man on Mars when you were younger, but as soon as you realized it just isn't possible, you are faced with a new reality. This reality is one where you just can't go to Mars, so there is no point in even thinking about it. But now that this dream and this motivation are gone, you need to find a new one; otherwise, you're stuck living with no purpose.

Life sucked the energy out of me the day my family died. It sucked more of my energy when I was placed in foster care. Any dreams I had vanished, and so did my motivation to do well in school. I was shown cruel reality: that I wasn't going anywhere.

But life gave me a new hand of cards. It gave me Bruce, Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Jason. My energy has been renewed. My dream is to be up to par with the rest of the Batfamily. That is my motivation to keep learning how to fight, despite what Dick and Tim might think.

If they take me away from Jason, then my dream and motivation will vanish, and so, I think, will my energy.

Sunday, August 16

I woke up early, did my usual routine, and then procrastinated going to breakfast. I considered just not showing up. Starvation certainly seemed the better option than facing Dick and Tim. And, knowing them, they'd probably told Alfred and Bruce. Honestly, I was scared about what Bruce would say.

My anger had died down a lot overnight and during my run. But I was still a little mad and frustrated that I was being treated like a child. I knew what I could and could not handle. I knew one side of Jason and had seen Jason's other side the night he saved me.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to go down to breakfast. I told myself that no matter what was said, I would either keep quiet or, at the very least, try to be reasonable. If I lashed out like I had last night, I would only get myself into further trouble. Not to mention – thinking back to the argument – I sounded as childish as they made me feel. I needed to be a mature adult about this. I took a deep breath outside the kitchen before finally entering the room.

I was the last one to show up. I hastily took my seat, but was unable to meet anyone's eyes. It wasn't so much that I was guilty about hanging out and training with Jason. It was the embarrassment that I'd been caught, the embarrassment at how easily I'd been to anger, and maybe a little guilty that I went behind their backs. But I didn't regret meeting and talking to Jason.

"Elle, I know you're still mad at us," Tim started the dreaded conversation as we began eating. "But you have to realize that Jason isn't a good person."

Feeling my anger start to bubble again, I took three deep breaths and a bite of fruit before answering. "I have to disagree," I said as calmly and maturely as I could. I still didn't look up. I didn't want to start yelling again.

"He's killed people," Bruce said gruffly. "He's a criminal."

He's your son, I wanted to say. He's a Bat, too, I wanted to say. Instead, I said, "I guess. It depends on how you look at it."

"How you look at it?" Dick asked incredulously. "He's killed over and over again with no regrets. What else would you call it?"

"Anti-hero," I stated simply. I could go into specifics. I could rant for hours. But I wouldn't. It would only rile me up and anger them.

Tim scoffed. Bruce told me, "I still don't want you anywhere near him."

"But –"

"No 'buts.'"

Furious, I stood from the table. "It's not like I'm talking to the Joker or something," I spat before stomping out of the room. Even though I'd managed to keep my temper mostly intact, I realized afterwards how immature my exit had been. That really didn't work in my favor.

I stayed in my room. I mostly just read my library books or surfed the internet. But my thoughts kept bouncing back to my anger and frustration with the Batfamily. After a few hours in my room, I gave up trying to calm down. Grabbing my cell phone, I snuck out of the manor through my window, just as I'd done the first time.

Jason must have seen me coming because he opened his door before I'd even reached it. He gave me my helmet as he went over to his motorcycle.

I smirked. "Do you even have a job?" I teased. After all, every time I came by, he was there.

Jason shot me a look. "That would be telling."

We went to the park and did our usual warm-up. Today was one of the days where I practiced everything I'd learned, and then we'd spar. I'd gotten a lot better a feints and punches. Unfortunately, I was not very strong as a whole, nor were my kicks very good. Today, I was a bit sloppy due to my anger. But I needed to release my frustration on something, and Jason was willing to take it.

As my maneuvers continued to be sloppy, Jason said, "What did I say about channeling your anger?" I thought I detected a hint of concern in there, but I wasn't certain, nor did I particularly care.

Eventually, I managed to focus my anger into my attacks. My moves were cleaner and I even managed to get Jason on the ground more than once. I was pretty sure he let me do that, but still. It made me feel better.

I was just starting to enjoy the sparring instead of using it solely to release my emotions, but then it all came rushing back at me when Dick showed up. Jason and I stopped our sparring match, much to my disappointment and frustration.

"What're you doing here, Dickie-Bird?" Jason asked, not caring.

"Trying to find her," Dick gestured at me. I crossed my arms and glared at the ground.

"I need a babysitter, now?" I muttered.

"Stay away from her, Jason," Dick threatened. "I don't want you brainwashing her to become a criminal."

"Oh, I think she's doing perfectly fine on her own," Jason replied. I knew that he said that just to get under Dick's skin, but it still hurt for a moment that Jason had basically called me a criminal-in-training, or whatever.

Dick glared at Jason. "You need help, Jason," he said. "You can't just corrupt innocent teenagers."

I shifted my feet. I didn't think there was anything wrong with how Jason and I felt and thought about crime. It was frustrating that Dick couldn't respect that Jason and I didn't follow the same policy that he did. And the fact that he called me innocent annoyed me. I wasn't a little girl. I was nearly an adult.

"You gonna hit me?" Jason mocked, eying the way Dick's body was tense and ready to spring. "I doubt you will. You're just like Bruce."

I closed my eyes and sighed. Why oh why was Jason egging Dick on? The situation was bad enough without him making it worse!

And worse it was. I didn't know who started it, but Jason and Dick were suddenly kicking and punching each other like it was no one's business. I did my best to stay out of the way. I watched their moves with interest. Now that Jason had taught me some maneuvers, I could make out the patterns in the fighting – a sort of dance, I mused.

But as I stood there, all the anger and fight just went out of me. Perhaps a part of it was the long, exhausting, really hot summer day – and I was wearing a pair of Barbara's shorts and one of Tim's shirts, knotted at the waist so it would fit me a bit better – but it could have also been that my body was tired of being mad.

I bit my lip and fiddled with the end of my – Tim's – shirt, wondering if I should stop them, and if I did, how would I even be able to? I'd probably only end up getting hurt, at the rate their punches and kicks landed was any indication.

But it seemed like I needn't have worried, for Dick landed one final punch to Jason's stomach and then walked towards me. Jason, with a bloody lip, held his stomach and glared at Dick's back. Dick grabbed my arm roughly, not enough to bruise, but enough to hurt. And enough for me to not be able to get loose.

"Let's go," Dick said.

"Wait," I told him.

When Dick continued dragging me away, I elbowed him in the side, quickly followed by a sharp kick to the ankle. I twisted away so that he had to let go of my arm or risk breaking his wrist. He chose the former. I was pretty sure the only way I'd even managed to do that was because Dick hadn't expected it. I'd caught him off-guard, that was all. A part of me was disappointed that I wouldn't actually be able to get away from Dick in a real fight. But then I remembered why I'd wanted to get away.

I ran back to Jason. "Do you have your phone on you?" I asked.

Jason nodded warily. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes and held my hand out. After a moment of hesitation and a glance over at an angry Dick, Jason handed me his phone. I put my cell phone number into it then returned it.

"That's my number," I said. "Be sure to text me so I know what number to call when I need to escape the Bats." I smirked. Jason shot me a smirk back.

"You know, we're technically going to be related," Jason told me slyly. "And incest is frowned upon in Gotham."

I laughed, knowing he was just joking. Dick called my name. I walked over to him. Dick had driven into the city, so the trip back to the manor was short. Along the way, I received a text, which I knew was from Jason:

JASON: Kick ass, Cougar.

I chuckled at the text. I wasn't sure if he was serious, but I wasn't planning on taking his advice. Dick shot me a look. I ignored him. Jason was my friend and one of my future brothers. End of story.

Within minutes of being in the manor, Tim, Bruce, and Dick had me trapped in the living room. They stared at me, disapproving. I sat in the corner of the couch, silent.

"Well?" Bruce prompted.

I shrugged. "What do you want me to say?" I asked. No one answered. "I'm friends with Jason. I snuck out to meet with him. I'll do it again."

"He's dangerous," Tim said.

I sighed. I was tired of hearing the same excuses. I wasn't even angry anymore. I was frustrated, sure, but I was more tired than anything else. I just wanted to move on. I didn't understand why they couldn't get over it. But there were the Bats for you. Stubborn. The lot of them.

"Can we not?" I half-pleaded, bringing my legs up to my chest. "Can we please just agree to disagree?"

"What has he done to you that you're so loyal to him?" Bruce demanded. "He's deceitful and cunning. He must have done something."

"Is it so hard to believe that I genuinely like him as a person?" I asked. I think it came out a little whiny. But I was about to cry again, and I really didn't feel like doing that in front of them.

"You're confused," Dick said, shaking his head. "You're mixing up whatever the cartoons and stuff say with reality."

To my horror, I started crying. I tried to keep my voice steady. "Why can't you understand that I'm old enough to make my own decisions?" I buried my head in my knees, embarrassed at my tears. No, this wasn't okay. I couldn't cry. Not in front of the Bats. It was a sign of weakness, and I didn't want to be perceived as weak. Especially not now.

I felt someone – probably Dick, the only Bat who liked to hug – put his arms around me. I stiffened and tried to pull away. Dick – it was definitely Dick, from the cologne he used – only pulled me into his chest. I didn't relax, but the tears came pouring out faster. I let out a sob.

"Ssh, Ellie," Dick said gently. He put his head on mine. I let him.

"We're not trying to make you feel like a child," Bruce said.

"But I feel like you are," I admitted. "I promise that if Jason was hurting me, I'd tell you. If he did something to me, I'd tell you. But he's nice. At least to me."

"Looks can be deceiving," Tim warned.

"I just want to drop the subject," I told them. "I'm tired of arguing. I just want you to stop ganging up on me."

Dick pulled away, I looked up, wiping my eyes.

"I'm sorry we made you feel that way," Dick told me.

"I'm sorry, too," Tim agreed. Bruce nodded.

"I know just the way we can make up for it," Dick smirked.

Dick declared it Family Movie Night. He claimed it was to make me feel better. In all honesty, though, I think that he hated the arguing as much as I did. Bruce even stayed for the movie. By the end of the movie, there was popcorn all over the couch and floor, a half-asleep Bruce in the love seat, Dick passed out on the floor, and Alfred standing by the door observing the scene.

And if I relaxed and accidentally fell asleep on Tim, well, no one said anything about it.