Charlie frowned at Farrah, watching her for any signs of being swayed. "You are sure you don't want to take Bruce up on his offer and be home schooled by Alfred...? One hundred percent?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Cap, I'm sure..."

The man heaved an exasperated sigh, leaning back as best he could without bumping the top of his car while rubbing the steering wheel. "Y-you must be the only child I-I've ever met that honestly and truly wanted to go to school." She shrugged a shoulder, and he sighed again. "You are aware that these are teenagers, Farrah... They... they lack a certain... self-control. It will be... uncomfortable, at best. There will be many stares..."

"I'll be fine," She assured him, moving over the seat and pulling the large, awkward man into a bear hug. "It's not like it's the first time I got stared at in this 'ere place. I love ya, Cap..."

For a bit, she felt the man freeze up, before hugging her back, and... trembling...? He sniffled. "I-I-I love you, too... a-and I'm sorry..."

Knowing what he was talking about right away, the girl heaved a sigh and bit back the urge to roll her eyes. "Charlie... I don't blame you. If anythin', it was my fault. I've never, not once harbored any grudges against ya, er ill thoughts towards ya... Yer a frickin' genius scientist, so I dunno how you ain't been able ta understand that..." He gave a choked laugh as she playfully poked his sides. "Lighten up, awlright? An' quit givin' me that damned guilty look... It makes me feel as bad as you look."

"So-sorry," He croaked, a smile in his voice, "I'll... I'll try." Pulling away to rub his eyes, he smiled at her. "You... you are something else, Farrah. And I only mean that in the absolute best way..."

The halls were quiet enough to hear a pin drop as Farrah followed behind Damian, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she shoved her hands in her pocket while trying to ignore the really blatant stares. Her stomach did flip flops and churned with unease as a steady hum of whispers went through the halls, following her as she went.

And as she walked, it occurred to her that Charlie had been right... she was getting stares... and a lot, at that. Maybe she should have taken up Bruce's offer to be home-schooled, because right now, homeschooling sounded really nice. Damian had even offered to do it with her; how could she have thought this was better...?

Yeah, sure, she could kind of get it... she'd been gone for half a year, she'd probably been on the news when she'd first gotten taken, a lot of them had probably thought she was dead by now; big whoop... that didn't mean they had to be so blatant about it... Didn't their mothers ever teach them that it was rude to stare...?

An even better question: how could Damian be so at ease? This was ridiculous!

A locker slammed shut, making the girl jump and stumble, whirling around as heavy, angry-sounding footsteps neared. "You bitch!"

Farrah flinched as the shrill scream assaulted her sensitive eardrums, eyes meeting a vaguely familiar and pissed-off looking girl's. "Who, me...?"

"Yes, you!"

Damian whirled around and scowled. "Not now, Dallard."

The girl ignored his command and stomped right over and stuck her face right up to Far's. "Damian was just starting to get over you, and then you just come back!"

Farrah blinked as she wrestled back a spike of anger while trying not to zone out as she fought with the Talon that had been lying dormant until now. "Uh... sorry...?" She ignored Damian's bark of 'don't you dare fucking apologize to her!', and raised a brow. "I don't... what d'ya want me ta do, then...? Get abducted again...? 'Cause I'm not, so... if tha's the case, sorry..."Kill. She sucked in a breath, shaking her head vigorously, "An' I'm real sorry, but... what-what was yer name again...?" The girl screeched and started wailing on the redneck with her purse. She got two hits in before Farrah ripped the purse from her grasp, eyes dark as she rumbled lowly in warning. "You don't wanna do that."

The Talon screeched with blood lust and amusement. The tiny, fragile prey dared try to strike her...? Her?

She pulled her belt out, and as Farrah raised a brow while willing the raging Talon and her shorter-than-usual temper in her to take it easy, cracked it...

The Talon lost it's voice, and she just lost it.

Memories came rushing over her like a wave over the beach during a major storm. The voices around her hushed as the hallway went dark, and Joel formed before her eyes. Not her Joel; the socially awkward yet suave, velvet-voiced one, but the sadistic, cruel one that laughed at her pain. It was so bad, she staggered and had to drop to her knees, bracing an arm against the lockers to keep from falling straight onto the floor. Her head throbbed as her face contorted with pain, and Joel's laugh gained her attention.

The hispanic man smirked as her face twisted with horror and she muttered brokenly. "No..."

"Yes, niña. You are back, and you are mine..."

Farrah looked down at her hands, bloodstained with fresh, raw cuts crisscrossing them, and her pupils shrank to pinpoints as she forced herself to keep from sinking any lower, to keep from showing even more weakness because she already knew she would suffer from what she's shown already... It was almost funny, how quick she had been to allude herself that she was safe... "No, no, no, not again," She gasped out between grinding teeth, trembling all over as her hands clenched into fists, "I won't..."

More than that, she simply couldn't. Not again... she had fooled herself, into believing that it would be okay... that she wouldn't have to ever suffer again... She couldn't go through that again.

Well... she could. But she just wouldn't. "Jus' fuckin' kill me," She gasped out strainedly, "I can't... Kill me, er I'll do it mahself."

Everything was getting darker and the voices were being drowned out by the ringing that came with a painfully loud silence. She suddenly couldn't move. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, and she could barely manage to keep breathing. Sweat beaded on her temple, and her adrenaline ran, but she couldn't move... She couldn't run, even though she wanted to, and God was she terrified... Her mind just drew a blank, as she stared wide-eyed at Joel, who smirked and cracked the whip again.

Every muscle in her body was tensed as she began to hyperventilate. It was so real... she could see his chest move with every breath, and his eyes as they flicked to and fro, searching for a weak spot to strike...

Oh God, oh God, oh God. She tried to remind herself to breathe, or to run, or attack, but she just couldn't function. She couldn't move, she couldn't think or rationalize or anything... and she had never, never been unable to do anything at all. She'd never had trouble finding her breath... And to be completely honest, that was what scared her the most.

Just as she was about ready to just completely lose it from fear and stress, she heard a voice.

It was a quiet voice. It was gentle, soothing (though not by nearly enough), and close. "Farrah... Farrah. You need to listen to me. Whatever is happening, whatever you see... it doesn't matter, because I am here. Don't you trust me...?" She didn't even realize that it was Damian until after he finished the question.

The girl tried to talk, but her tongue was just a useless lump of cement in her mouth, and her jaw felt like it was glued shut. So, after a few minutes of fighting with her self, she managed a small, barely noticeable nod.

But it was enough. "You're in the halls. Tell me; what do you see?"

"Joel." She choked out.

"Not him," Damian quickly corrected himself in a rush, "Tell me what you see that isn't him."

Far gave a shaky breath and forced herself to look at the ground. "Ti-tiles... Ah see... someone lost a pen." She forced herself to crack a joke, then, partly because she was afraid if she didn't joke, her voice would crack or give a tremor; but mostly because Damian's voice had shook. It was subtle - oh so subtle, but Farrah had long since learned to find the emotions in voices, no matter how people tried to hide it. "Can-can-can ya grab 'er fer me? Loot it fer me... I-if'n it's on the floor," Her voice faltered as she inhaled sharply to keep it from trembling, "i's free-free game."

A small, breathy laugh brushed the hair on her forehead, and he ignored her joke, but she didn't mind. His laugh helped distract her from Joel's scowl. "Focus... what do you feel?"

The girl gave a breath. "I can feel the cool of the floor. I can feel you; you ain't touchin' me, but I can feel yer warmth. I can feel... I'm... I'm at school." She trailed off and squeezed her eyes shut as her head began pulsing, opening her eyes only to frown as her eyes met crowds of faceless people. No Joel. Which, now, made sense... he would never be at her school, especially carrying around a whip... "Oh Lord... Damian, what in the fuck was'at...? Where did he...?"

She was dragged to her feet and tugged through the crowds of people. Not a single person voiced complaint as the Wayne pulled her into the boy's bathroom for privacy, and before she could even gather her bearings, she was pulled into a fucking bear hug.

"I told you," Damian muttered into her hair. "I told you this would happen, but did you listen to me, you stupid redneck...? No, you did not."

She gave a shaky sigh into his chest, and didn't even realize that she was crying until he pulled away and wiped her tears away. "Ho-lee shit," She croaked, cracking a watery smile, despite the fact that it looked pained, "Was I fuckin' cryin'...? Daggon, am I a wuss er what...?"

With a roll of his eyes, he replied dryly, "Not a wuss... simply an idiot..."

"Gee," She snorted a weak laugh. "You always know ta make a girl feel better, don'tcha, mister Wayne...?"

Damian quirked a brow and his lips twitched up, eyes soft as he brushed some hair from her face. "Well... when it's you, I do."

"True, true," Farrah rubbed her eyes dry and tried to smile, only sniffling a little as she cleared her throat. "I reckon it's part a' yer 'lil' shit' charm. Somethin' 'bout it appeals ta me; don't know why..." She trailed off and leaned against the taller, joking tone falling from her voice. "Damian... what was that...?"

"A panic attack." He answered simply, resting a hand on the small of her back. "You have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which, really, is no surprise... We all... suspected something like this would happen; which was exactly why we all had insisted so much on you being homeschooled." He shot her an almost smug look. "Maybe next time you'll listen to us."

The redneck furrowed her brows, shooting a look at him. "Dami... I'm me. I don't-I don't have no disorders er-er panic attacks... Ever."

"Which is probably why you were so freaked out," He informed her slowly, as though talking to an infant. "Most people don't get them... until a traumatic experience, like, oh, I don't know... The one you've gone through for over half a year...?" She blinked. Oh yeah... that was a pretty valid point when she thought about it, but still... Far had always prided herself in her mental health and stability, and had always mentally mocked the girls in her old school when they sobbed in class after getting dumped...

Damian snickered. "And you still can, hillbilly... Trauma from getting abducted is a perfectly valid reason for crying and having a panic attack." Whoops... had she said that outloud...? "Yes. You had."

Farrah gave a sheepish look and shrugged a shoulder, dropping her head against his chest with a shuddery sigh and nuzzling him a bit before backing up, feeling the familiar (and not to mention unwanted) eyes of the Joel that wasn't hers on her. Brushing off her pants, she grimaced. "'Re... 're ya sure that wasn't real...? It felt real, an' I jus'..." She trailed off.

"It wasn't." He assured her, eying her for any signs of another panic attack. "Perhaps you should just go home, try to go to school another day..."

A feeling of panic bubbled in her chest, but she beat it down.

"No." She all but yelled before catching herself and taking a deep breath, saying again, much calmer and slower this time, "No. I don't... that'll jus' make it worse, Slick, trust me on this 'un... I don't wanna sit an' let this shit jus' fester, I-I gotta keep busy an' stuff, awlright? Don't mention this ta Charlie."

He tutted and gave her a disapproving look. "You really should go home, if this is something you feel the need to hide."

The redneck made a face. "Maybe, but... jus' don't. I can handle it."

He raised a brow. "Can you?"

"Abso... erm," She coughed, "Well... prob'ly... I prob'ly can... ain't gonna push my luck an' try an' say I absolutely can; jumpin' ta conclusions ain't never done me no good..."

Damian nodded slowly. "Indeed..." He studied her closely for a few minutes, and as Farrah was beginning to worry that he'd force her home, he heaved a breath. "You're an idiot, Bowman."

She cracked a grin and breathed a laugh. "Love ya, too, ass-butt."

"Lawd Jesus, I take it back," Farrah groaned, throwing her head back to face the ceiling. "Get me out a' this place... What in sam hell...?"

Ms. Martinez laughed for the first time since the redneck had walked in, finally snapping out of the stupor that almost everyone else in the room was in. "It's only math, Farrah."

Said girl snorted. "Loved how ya said that... it's 'jus' math', like this crap's s'posed ta be easy er somethin'... There's freakin' denominators an' coefficients an' jus'-Jesus take the wheel!" She threw her arms up with a huff. "This's some crazy shit..."

The woman clearly had to bite back a laugh before reprimanding lightly, "Language, Farrah."

Giving a sheepish look, she mumbled, "Yes'm... sorry, ma'am."

Ms. Martinez gave a loud laugh, eyes brightening considerably as she beamed. "I'll forgive it just this once... It's... good to have back, Farrah."

The redneck gave a small smile. She knew it wasn't as big or as bright or as dimpled as she used to smile, but it was there, none the less. Mere days ago, she'd feared that she might not smile again. At all... "It's purty good ta be back, miss," She replied earnestly before adding with a quirk of her lips. "Can't say I missed th' math, though."

Damian snorted.

Author's note~

NO I'M NOT ABANDONING YOU GUYS D: Did you really think I would do that?! NEIN! ILU guiz! I'm not - I wouldn't - NO. I was just in a writer's block when it came to this, I'm not... I'M NOT.

Gosh, I gotta make this short cuz I'm a quarter of a ways through with the next chapter for this, and I wanna write while the juices are still flowing, but you are all going to get a LONG lecture on this. You DARE think I would leave this...? HELL to the no!

So this is short, I know, but again: writer's block. Also, sorry, the panic attack part didn't turn out NEARLY as well as I wanted it, but... again, writer's block. Also, lack of experience. i tried :c

Gotta go, I'll probably update within a few days at the MOST. I'll be back!

, Blue