A/N: Please read and review!

I had that cast for what seemed like an eternity to me. It made my leg itch like crazy, and I could've lost my sanity if I had to wait any longer before my cast could be removed. That cast meant I had to remain in the wheelchair, and for someone like me who loves to move all of the time, it was a death sentence. I hated being forced to sit still for very long periods of time.

That was why I became so involved with my computer work. It was the only thing keeping me sane and rom killing everyone around me, and it gave me something to do even though my homework was way too easy.

I had always been pretty good at the computer work, just the way I would do very little hacking work before my nasty accident, but there was never enough time for me. I could only focus on other things. My time after the accident made me focus and refine that kind of technique.

My earlier attempts at hacking made me wonder why I was never arrested. Those attempts could have been traced back to me, and it made sense why Damian was very concerned about the time I showed him what I could do. I took that time to become more invisible and to gather my information without anyone even knowing I was there. Somehow, that sort of determination went straight to my schoolwork and some of my music skills. There were things that cause me to change the way I dealt with the world.

It's really weird. For awhile, I made it with somewhat decent grades, but I never really did anything that would've been called spectacular or remarkable. After the accident, I changed. I thought it might have had to do with me hitting my head pretty hard in the accident. Things like that had happened before.

Damian did come by to see me after I came back from the hospital. At least I had someone to talk to whenever he was there. All of my other friends were way too busy to come see me.

"Hey, Dee," I said to him, making sure my laptop would only see my paper I had to write for one of my classes. I didn't want him to make too much of a deal over me hacking into things I wasn't supposed to. "I thought you had a life."

"I do," he said to me, unsure what I was going to say to him. He couldn't understand what I had meant when I said that.

"A night life, then," I said to him. "Do you go clubbing with some of your classmates?"

Damian stared at me like he was trying to decide if I was serious or not. He was not sure how to respond to what I was going to say to him after that one question. It would have created a conversation that would have not been something he would have been involved with.

"Do you know anything about me that would even indicate I would go. . .clubbing?" Damian was finally able to say to me. The tone of voice he had been using was like he was trying to understand why we were having that discussion. "Because if you do, I would like to know what."

"Chill out, Dee," I said to him. "You're always doing something at night, and you claim you're doing something important for your dad."

"I am," he said.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. You're only saying that because you know it would be a good enough excuse for me because you know I wouldn't go clubbing. Even with you."

Damian shook his head at that like he couldn't believe I was even entertaining that kind of thought. There was a small hint at feeling too surprised that I could know to ask the questions and be able to see through anything he would tell me. He didn't think I could be that observant.

"Do you really want to believe I would actually go out clubbing?" He asked me.

"It was the only explanation I could come up with that seemed to fit," I admitted.

He shook his head. "You do not need to worry about it or even worry about me."

"Who even said I was worried?" I replied. "I was curious. I wanted to know what you were going to need so many more excuses to hide them."

"I think this is where I would say that it would be none of your business," he had said to me.

I shrugged. "Yeah. . .well. . .whatever. . ."

It was pretty clear he would need to be more careful when he was around me. There was something he was hiding that he didn't want me to figure out.

Fritz was in that cast and wheelchair for most of the winter, so she was stuck with her immediate family for Christmas when they would normally go to see the family in the South during that extended break.

I would have believed she would have become insane when she would have been forced to sit still for long periods of time without pacing around to waste her energy. She never did go insane as time went on, so I had to guess she was forced to focus her mind. That period of time was probably the first time she had focused on making her mind sharper and more focused.

Fritz became more like someone who would think for a split second before she would act, though she would still be someone who would be pretty impulsive. That meant she was not going to get herself killed on purpose by deciding to do something stupid or reckless right away. She would hesitate a moment, actually considering what her actions could do to her and the people around her.

It was during that in-between faze between Thanksgiving and Christmas when Fritz was coming out of the Wayne Enterprises building. Her father had paused for a moment in the lobby of the building to speak to the people he had worked with over the years. She looked over her shoulder at him before she focused her attention back at me.

"Well," she said. "He seems to be pretty sociable today."

"It might take him awhile," I agreed with her, seeing one of the older women employees started to speak to her father. "Look who is speaking to him."

She looked over her shoulder a second time and gave a quiet cackle. "Oh, and that's the one he can't escape from."

She had to move out of the way of the door as we took that moment to speak to each other. The only signs of her injuries from that accident were a very faint scar on her forehead and a slightly crooked nose from being broken and then healed, and her leg was still in that cast.

There was that small part of me that could allow myself to feel very relieved over how she did not have apparent complications and would be alright. We were quietly speaking with each other, and she would tease me, being one of the few people in the world I would tolerate her doing something like that and her being one of the few people in the world brave enough to do something like that. As we spoke to one another, I realized those same feelings of relief I had to see she was alright were the same source of that small amount of nervousness I had when I was carrying her that one time.

She tipped her head to the side. "What's got you so thoughtful all of a sudden?"

That snapped me back into reality, and I shook my head. "I was thinking about something you do not need to be concerned about."

"Oh, right," she said, but she was not even mad about it. "This again."

"It happens," I replied. "But, I do not have to speak about it to you."

I did not want to speak about it to her because I did not want to voice it. that would mean I was admitting it, so I did the one thing I knew how to do. I bottled all of those emotions, so I never had to deal with them ever again. Time would pass to make me forget about them, and things could become as they were long before, making things pretty normal once more.