Chapter 14: The Witches Sabbath

"Now, how about you tell me why you really ran off?" Bruce asked the very second they set foot in the Wayne Tower penthouse. It was exactly how she remembered, gleaming and perfect and almost dream-like, but it was somehow different. She wasn't bunking with him until she found a place of her own, sponging off of him like a leech. He was moving her in with him to protect her, something that was foreign to Caden. The only person that ever protected her was her mother-her father wanted to kill her and her brother couldn't care less. Jill, of course, would protect her with her life, but it always seems like Caden was protecting her from jerks and killer ex-boyfriends and what not.

Now, she was being protected, by Bruce Wayne of all people. She didn't know how to react.

She did, however, know how to react to Bruce's question-tell him the truth.

"Look, Bruce-you got shot the other night for my sake, and that was only the beginning. My father would do anything to kill me-and you, of course, would come to my rescue instead of letting me die. I can't let that continue." She paused for a moment, unsure about what she should say next. Even though he needed to hear it, a sense of dread washed over her before opening her mouth and forcing it out. "Besides-if I could find my father, and kill him, then…my life would mean something."

"Caden, you don't need to be sticking your neck out for my sake. I can take care of myself."

"So can I."

"Really? You almost died-you would have died if I wasn't there." Bruce said the words with a sort of sincerity that one wouldn't imagine just from reading it.

"So what if I die? I almost escaped him-if he didn't break my damn leg, I could have gotten away. I got the ropes undone. If you could teach me some of that magic kung-fu you do-,"

"Wait…magic kung-fu?" He let a chuckle escape his lips, despite the situation.

"What, is it magic ninjitsu?" she shrugged. "Anyway, if I die, hopefully I take my father down with me."

"And what if there's someone who doesn't want you to die? You know…like me, your mother, Jill.."

Caden let that sink in before she responded. Mental-grenade. Bam!

"You fucking…" she struggled for a word. "…fucker." She tried to say it in that endearing way Bruce would be able to, but it came out wrong. He would use the status of the still-missing Jill to keep her in her place. That devious little…

"…fucking fucker?" he asked.

"Hey! It's difficult insulting Prince Charming. You try it."

"…Prince Charming?" Muhahaha…there's a little mind-game for you, Bruce-y. Now that you're distracted and flattered…

"Precisely. Now, how about we drop this? It's midnight." She had just realized the time as she drove home in Bruce's car-and she didn't realize that until they were 5 minutes from Wayne Tower.

"Not until you promise me you won't run off at night." He latched onto her wrist, clamping her wrist in iron. "I'm serious."

"I won't. You have my word-I won't try any daring escapes until you hire a fire-breathing dragon."

He smirked. "What's with all of the fairy-tale references tonight?"

"I think it's a combination of the brain damage and the schizo-OH…shit…" Her eyes grew wide. "I went for two days without the medication for my schizophrenia or Addison's Disease." Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, how could I forget that? Oh, and now I sound like an old fucking lady talking about her various diseases and (mental) conditions…

"I told the doctors what you needed-they gave it to you through an IV. You'll be fine until morning-I"m sorry I forgot to get it from your house."

"If I start puking blood, I'm blaming you." She threatened with a wink.

"I'm sure you'll be fine-until you start talking to the walls."

"They can be very talkative sometimes." She said before yawning. "Now, I am going to sleep in a normal bed…I might not see you until late afternoon."

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

"I'm dying of thirst, but besides that…I'm good." She sleepily began to wander into the kitchen in search of liquid-she would drink jelly if she had to. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and every time she swallowed her throat screamed in agony. Thankfully, she wasn't degraded to jelly. Bottles of water waited for her in fridge. Greedily chugging it down, she emptied the entire bottle in one long swig. The sound of the plastic crinkling reminded her faintly of her childhood, when her and her mother would sit outside in the grass in summer drinking bottled water. After stumbling back to the room, she smiled at Bruce.

"Bruce…thanks. For everything." She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say: "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead a long time ago. I owe a lot to you-and I just don't know how to accept that." She knew exactly how she would say it and word it, but her mouth failed to comply. Something stopped her from speaking her mind, and that had never happened to her.

Was it…nervousness? No. The light, fluttering feeling in her stomach was a feeling she had read and heard about many times, but had never experienced before-butterflies. She felt giddy and nervous and stuttered through her words.

"Of course." He just had to smile, didn't he? Doesn't he see that I'm a train wreck? "If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

"I-I…ok. Night, Bruce." She sighed. She wished she could say some despicably charming thing, like in the movies. Life wasn't a movie, no matter how much she wished.

So, she scampered off to her room like a rodent. Funny how she thought of it as her room. It was the guest room, as immaculate and spotless as it was the first day she saw it. With a large, comfortable bed, a nightstand, a bathroom (it's own freaking bathroom?) and matching décor, it looked like a hotel room. Was that all this would be, a place to stay until she was safe? Or would it become more…? Caden didn't know. The feeling of not having the upper-hand was infuriating. In life, she had to have some sort of advantage. If she knew how her life would turn out, it would be so much easier.

Falling back on the bed, she remembered how comfortable it was, much more cozy then any bed she ever owned. She closed the door, stripped away her clothes, and crawled into the bed with no more then a bra and underwear on. She shivered at the feel of the cool, smooth blankets against her hot skin.

How she was tired after being passed out for two days, she didn't know. Maybe it was just an overall tiredness of life she would carry for the rest of her days. She hoped not.

Turning off the light, she sunk into the various blankets, resting her head against the lavish pillows. God-it was hard not to fall asleep in such a comfortable position. With little struggle, her eyes closed, and she was lulled into slumber.

She opened her eyes late at night. She found herself staring at the ceiling-in the darkness, it was a deep shade of gray. There must have been something horribly interesting about it, because she couldn't stop watching it, like it was about to do a trick. Her mind was still dazed by grogginess-she saw the ceiling slowly change from deep gray to darker, and darker, and darker, until it was almost black, but it didn't fully register in her mind. Think of it like…counting a small about of objects, such as paperclips. You glance down, and you see that there's 4 in your hand-you automatically know it, and do not even need to think about it. Not even a single Hmm…the ceiling is changing color went through her mind. It simply was and required no thought.

The fog in her mind was quickly cleared, however. As she lay leisurely in the bed, calm and relaxed and horribly unsuspecting, she felt a long, cold finger traveling down her leg, like the cold edge of a knife gently stroking her skin. She stiffened and her eyes went wide. Completely paralyzed by fear, she couldn't muster enough courage to sit up. She could only sit vulnerably, shivering and tense and frightened.

She held her breath-she wanted to hear anything in the room that could tell her what exactly was happening. After what seemed like centuries, there was a cold breath on her neck, like frigid winter morning air after a fresh blanket of untouched snow. She began to shiver, her lips quivering. The cold fingers slowly trailed up her body, the number slowly increasing from one silver knife to what felt like a million icy fingers grabbing onto her.

Oh, God, whatever is doing this, please, just hurry up and kill me if you have to-I can't stand this-

A shrill scream broke through the night. Caden gasped and jumped-after the cry, her ears rang as the silence wrapped around her. Her heart beat with the ferocity of a million hooves trampling the ground.

Another scream jolted the air-but now, Caden saw what was screaming-no, not screaming...screeching, like an injured, crazed bird.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an arm, long, black, and decayed. The fingers were only bone, making sharp talons, but the rest of the limb was covered in darken flesh wriggling with maggots. The smell of death reached Caden's nose, and the final puzzle piece came together in her mind.

Oh, God, it's my dad came back from the dead, he's come to kill me, oh my god, he's going to kill me-

A low, guttural noise sounded through the room, dominating the air like an alpha male. That single noise was enough to haunt Caden for the rest of her life-however, it also gave her the necessary courage to sit up and see just what was going on.

Sometimes desperation can be mistaken for courage. In a moment of pure recklessness, desperation can drive some to do not necessarily wrong but very careless acts. Caden's careless acts began when she sat up and stared into the eye sockets of a large, decaying, rotting, corpse.

It did not begin and end there-that single movement, when she decided to sit up and face her fears, was only the beginning of many more careless, desperate acts. Instead of staying the same position and waiting for it to end, she acted on pure desperation.

She knew she was looking at the corpse of he father. It did not occur to her that her father was very much alive. He was just there-she didn't have to think of it any more then the ceiling changing color or the number of paperclips-he was there and she needed to get away.

Before the first scream could escape her lips, her father clamped his hand over his mouth. She still shrieked, though muffled, as the mushy flesh touched her face, full of pus and dripping with a sticky fluid. The maggots squirmed against her lips as the smell of decay assaulted her senses. With his other hand, he clamped both of her wrists together. Damn, how is a dead guy so strong?

She screeched as she felt the maggots bite into her lips and face. Kicking and flailing her legs, she struggled against him, fighting hopelessly. He only stared at her, with those god-damn empty eye-sockets, and began to laugh. The laugh was husky and warped and horribly evil, like the laugh of demons. She cringed, letting frightened tears slip from her eyes.

Once more, desperation commanded her actions. She let her emotions and instincts become her captain. Wrapping a leg around the ghoul, she began to rock back and forth, like the rocking of a ship. The thing looked confused until they both rolled off the bed.

She didn't have the time to look at the splatters of pus on her arms, or at the gelatinous black fluid on her leg or even the maggots crawling on her. She only got up and ran, flying forward, not looking back.

Or…so she thought she was. Her plans were crushed as she slammed into the ground. OW! She forgot her broken leg and arm. Lovely-she could only make use of her left leg and right arm. She ignored the electric wave of horrid pain and noticed only the hand gripping her ankle. It felt like partially-melted plastic over iron. She howled, her shrill cry of terror flooding the penthouse.

Writhing and kicking and screaming, her only thought was that she had to get away from this evil creature. The sinking feeling in her gut, like quicksand, was the worst sensation anyone could feel, or ever feel. The indescribable panic and terror is something Caden wouldn't even wish upon her greatest enemies.

Her hands gripped the floor in a desperate attempt to pull herself away. Her entire body shook and she sobbed and screamed and wailed, Oh…Dear…GOD! She hated being in this state, this state of horror and terror and distress and dread and despair and-

"CADEN!" the thing screamed. It's voice was no longer warped, but that didn't stop her from crying and shrieking and thrashing.

Somehow, the hand disappeared, along with the entire body, and appeared by her side. Instead of a fiendish look, it now gazed down at her with what appeared the be concern. She tried to scramble away, but the monster grabbed her, pulling her into it's arms, crushing her to a putrid chest with the ribs sticking out. Now, it seemed even stronger, like her fear had made it even more powerful.

It gently set her on the bed, probably to get her into a more vulnerable position and sat down next to her. Bad idea. She swung to attack, planning to dig her nails into it's skin and scratch at it like a rabid cat, but it caught her by the wrist, gently yet firm.

"Caden! It's me! Bruce!" the thing pleaded.

"No, you're not!" she yelled twisting away. When she jerked her head away, she was blinded by sudden light. She whimpered as her eyes stung. As soon as her eyes came back into focus, she saw that the lamp was on. The thick darkness had been replaced. Holding her breath, she rolled over, and saw something that made her jump.

Bruce.

Deep green eyes locked with hers, full of worry and even fear. Not as extreme as the terror she felt moments ago, but more of a shocked fear.

She was hardly able to take an uncorrupted breath before breaking down. She couldn't hold back the tide of tears-she had absolutely nothing to cry about. In a movie or novel, the character would bounce back and realize it was only a dream. However, life wasn't a movie, and the human mind could take only so much before it broke. She didn't fight the barrage of sobs, only tried to hide her face.

Bruce, being the damn saint he is, put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. He slowly stroked her back, letting her cry on his shoulder.

Many people have experienced times when their emotions are so strong they cannot speak. Most people have laughed so hard they couldn't say a single world. Caden was crying so badly she couldn't speak. Nothing could come out. She decided to just wait until she could control herself. Gradually decreasing the volume and pain of the cries, she continuously reminded herself that the…thing was gone.

Wait…that thing was my father…how?

It was just a dream…wasn't it? Please, please, let it be only a dream!

Eventually, she was able to speak. At least, she hoped she was. "I…I'm sorry. Just…hold me for a minute, ok?" Damn, she hated when she sounded so weak, but if she was left alone right now, what other demons could torment her?

"I will." He whispered in her ear. Thankfully, she wasn't crying anymore, but she was pretty sure she had a few screws loose, more so then she thought before. She didn't even hear the footsteps in the doorway.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred asked. God, it was good to hear Alfred's voice.

"I have this, Alfred." Bruce said. After a moment of hesitation, the footfalls slowly decreased, eventually disappearing in the maze of Wayne Manor.

"I am so sorry about this, Bruce." Caden blushed.

"Sorry? What's there to be sorry about? When I heard you screaming…"

"Oh…God…wow." She sighed as she let herself fall against the bed. She jumped when she felt her bare skin touch the fabric. "Shit." She was still in her bra and underwear, wasn't she? She immediately pulled the covers over her. "Sorry about that…" he only chuckled.

"I wasn't looking. What exactly happened…?"

"Do you really want to know?" She wished she didn't know. He nodded. "Alright…well, I woke up a while ago, I don't know when. The ceiling started to change color-I think then entire room did. Everything was pure black. All I could see was a rough outline of some objects. Then…there was cold fingers and breath…and, then, I saw this…corpse. Somehow, I think it was my father…but that couldn't be. He's alive. I don't really know. He clamped his hand over my mouth and restrained me. I rolled over onto the floor, and tried to get away, and he grabbed my ankle…but he disappeared. It was like he just teleported-he was then at my side, picking me up, and putting me on the bed. Then, when I woke up, there was light…and you. One fucked up dream, huh?" He bit his lip. Oh…fuck. "It…wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Your eyes were open the entire time." He mentioned as he spread out on the bed, holding himself up by his elbow.

"It…must have been…an hallucination." Wonderful. She thought she had gotten past this-apparently, she still suffered from it. "Fucking schizophrenia."

"Are you OK? Need anything?" Caden shook her head almost solemnly.

"Just…stay for a few minutes, alright? That's all I need. As long as you don't mind my half-nudity." She smiled. He shook his head and pulled her close, draping an arm around her waist. "It was you, wasn't it? Who lifted me off the ground and put me on the bed? And I was just seeing you as a decaying corpse."

"I hope I don't look like a corpse." He smirked. She laughed-softly, but it was still a laugh. It felt good to laugh, to get the enormous weight off her chest.

"No…you don't." She grinned as she let herself relax. How wonderful it was to be unafraid. There was no pounding of her heart, or tensing of her muscles-only the softness of the bed under her and the amazing man beside her. She slowly inhaled, letting blissfully clear air fill her lungs, and exhaled, feeling every nook and cranny of her body unravel.

"I keep waiting for something to jump out at me-like a hand grabbing my ankle and pulling me under the bed. Like the boogeyman." She chuckled at herself. Her voice was quiet in the room, barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry-I had room fumigated for monsters last week." He smirked.

"Just not zombies, right?" she laughed before yawning. Even though once the light was turned off she would be too anxious to fall asleep, she was tired.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. After a moment of contemplation she thought: Hey, what the hell?

"No. Stay." She said before reaching over to turn the light off. He nodded, something she could hardly see in the darkness. Rolling back over, she settled back into the covers and Bruce's arms. "Bruce…" she sighed. Throwing caution to air, she decided to tell him why she tried to leave. "I tried to leave because…well, because you were hurt. And...I felt responsible."

"You thought the world would be better off without you." He didn't say it like a question-he was completing her sentence.

"Yes. How did you…?"

"When the Joker was trying to get me to reveal myself, he was killing others. He promised that every day that Batman didn't show who he really was, people would die. He blew up a hospital-,"

"So that's why that asshole did that?" she interrupted. "Oh. Sorry. Continue."

"A close friend of mine, Rachel, died because of me. I thought that it would be better if I were dead-not just arrested, but dead."

"But it wouldn't be. It wouldn't stop the Joker." She blurted out before he realized his carefully laid plan.

"Exactly. If you were dead, you wouldn't help anybody."

"…word-ninja." She hissed.

"Word-ninja?"

"Exactly." She mocked. He put his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

"I don't want you putting your life on the line for me."

"I'm sorry, Bruce-if I have to, I will." If it came down to it, she would jump in front of a speeding bullet not just for him, but for any innocent. She might not act like she would, but she always promised herself that if any situation like that would occur, she would do it.

"No, you won't." he insisted.

"Whatever, Bruce. Think of life as…symbiotic relationships. Ours is mutual-not commansal." He gave her a look. "Hey-I paid attention in science class."

"Caden…" he warned.

"Look, Bruce-it's just who I am. I'd jump in front of a bullet for any innocent. Believe it or not, you'd do the same." See, Bruce-y? I can make mental-grenades too, you sexy son of a bitch.

"Yeah, but I have the hardened Kevlar plates over titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers."

"…um…what?"

"Ask Lucius." He shrugged.

"Well that hardened Kevlar-whatever didn't save you from two bullets." She sneered.

"Caden, please…I don't want you hurt."

"Fine, Bruce. Whatever you want." She tried to make it sound less sarcastic. She would just say yes to get him off her back. If it came down to it, she'd go against his orders. "And here I was trying to say something nice."

"What were you trying to say?"

"I was trying to say that…well…" she squirmed uncomfortably. She couldn't get the words out. "Shit." She sighed. "You make this too hard. And if you say 'make what hard,' I'll slap the shit out of you." Well, Caden…it's now or never. "I was trying to say, well…I-I-I'd die for you, Bruce." She held her breath as she waited for his response. "I-if you don't-," He pulled her closer and aggressively kissed her. Her heart fluttered and she could hardly breath, just like a god damn, love stuck, confused, moody, angry teenager. Moving their lips against each other, Caden finally felt as if she belonged somewhere. As a child, she could never make friends, except for Jill, of course. As a teenager, she was too different. As an adult, the only two people she had was Jill and her mother. Even then, she was still lost in a sea of people, confusion, and the poison of Gotham. She had no real place-but now, with Bruce, she finally felt that she had a place in this world. It only flickered inside her mind for the briefest of moments, and disappeared behind a film of uncertainty in her mind.

This was where she was supposed to be.

"Caden…" he said breathlessly, pulling away. "I don't care what problems you face. I don't care about your schizophrenia or your father. Just…stay."

"I will, Bruce." And that time, she meant it.

Even though her life wasn't perfect, even though she was crazy and stupid and reckless, even though her mother was dead and her best friend was missing, Bruce would be there for her. That thought, as imperfect and depressing as it seems, was her personal Heaven.