It wasn't until he was at school that he realized how silly it was for him to sneak the puppet into school. He could have easily hidden it somewhere within his room but had instead chosen to carry it around like he was some child that couldn't be separated from his toy.

Not that the puppet was a toy. He did not have toys.

Damian quickly shut his locker and headed towards his first class, English. These classes were far too simple for him, but his father insisted he go. Something about 'making friends his age.'

Pushing open the classroom door, he quickly made his way over to his desk. It was next to the window in the middle of the row of desks. Not too far forward that the teacher would automatically take note of him but not too far back in the classroom for the teacher to target him and make sure he's 'listening.'

Damian sat down heavily, pulling out some paper and a pencil. He wasn't going to pay attention, but this act of 'taking notes' would hopefully trick the teacher into believing he was.

"Hey, Damian!"

"Jon."

Damian nodded in greeting, and Jon Kent sat down next to him. Jon was tall for his age, with dark hair and brown eyes. He was the spitting image of his father, Clark Kent, but Damian found him far less annoying. The son of Superman was a competent fighter and an excellent f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ ally.

The Kryptonian was still hopelessly naive, but Jon was the closest thing Damian had to a 'friend.'

Now obviously, Damian didn't need friends. But Jon was currently the least offensive person in the classroom, so he may as well associate with him.

"How was your night?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "Is it possible for you to be less subtle?"

Jon shrugged, obviously unfazed by Damian's attitude, "Just wondering."

"It was...fine."

Damian forced his heart rate to remain steady; any change would be heard by Jon and indicate that he was lying. Damian wasn't completely lying; the night had gone fine. He just also found something unusual.

"What are you writing?"

Damian jumped, "What?"

Jon stared at him for a moment before pointing at the paper on his desk, "You were writing something. What is it?"

He snapped his head down to look at the paper. The top of the page was filled with words in ... Czech.

"Um. Its nothing. I'll be back." Damian jumped up, shoving the paper in his pocket and leaving behind a confused Jon, and went to the front of the class. He asked the teacher to go to the bathroom and fled the classroom.

Whoops. I think I scared him...

Charlotte had tried to communicate with Damian but didn't want to start talking in public suddenly. So, she tried to communicate mentally with the boy. She had heard of ghosts with psychic abilities, so it was worth a try. What Charlotte hadn't expected was Damian's left hand to pick up the pencil and start scribbling her message down without its owner realizing it.

At least, he didn't notice until the other boy, Jon, pointed it out. Through her fledgling connection with his mind, Charlotte sensed his shock and growing confusion at the message.

Not to mention that the message was written in her native language, which was very likely a language the child didn't know.

*Sigh* These new 'powers' seem like more trouble than their worth...

He didn't write anything.

Damian was crouched in the farthest stall in the bathroom, staring at the paper. He was slowly translating the message that seemed to read,

Ahoj. (Hello)

Jsem přítel. (I am a friend.)

Já jsem ta loutka. (I am the puppet.)

Já jsem Charlotte. (I am Charlotte.)

Budeš můj přítel? (Will you be my friend?)

Damian stared at the paper, retranslating the message to make sure. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the dark puppet.

"This is you?"

He didn't know what he expected, but he knew he had to go home. This puppet was unnatural and had been able to manipulate his actions. He needed to inform his father immediately.

"Yes."

Damian was ashamed to say he jumped. The voice was garbled, like someone trying to talk with a mouth full of water.

"What are you? Why did you make me write that?"

He wouldn't be afraid. He was the son of Batman; he was not scared of some haunted doll.

"I am Charlotte. I try speak. To your mind. You hand write what I say."

"So, you controlled me. Why? What do you want?" Damian didn't know much about spirits, but he didn't think they could normally communicate like this.

"I protect. Protect you. Help you. Please?"

The voice was dwindling, sounding tired, like the very act of speaking drained it completely.

"What do you mean, please?"

"Please, let me stay."

Damian paused. The voice had faded completely, the spirit unable to communicate any longer. The spirit did not seem very dangerous. In fact, it seems rather benevolent. But supernatural objects always had their own dangers, and Damian considered telling his father about this new development.

In the end, he decided against it. The spirit was easily manageable so far and had shown no signs of aggression. If he revealed what he found to his father, he had to doubt that the puppet would be taken away and he would never get to find out why Charlotte wanted to protect him specifically.

"Okay, Charlotte. You can stay."

For now.

Jon had been rather concerned with Damian's abrupt departure, but a quick excuse and a question about how Jon's history project was enough for Jon to forget about the incident.

Sometimes, Damian was glad his friend, *cough* ally, was so naive.

After a long, boring day of inane 'learning,' Damian was finally picked up by Pennyworth and returned to the manor.

"Master Damian, is there anything you need?"

"No, thank you, Pennyworth. I have some homework I must finish."

Pennyworth had simply nodded before heading into the kitchen. Damian then headed to his room as fast as he could and shut the door. He set down his backpack and sat down at his desk. Pulling out more paper and a pen, Damian finally set Charlotte up against the nearby lamp.

"Are you here?"

Damian frowned at his own foolish question; of course, Charlotte was here. He had heard her speak himself.

"Yes, young one."

"You're talking again."

"I have recovered some strength."

Damian nodded. "If, well... if it's easier, you may write as you did at school."

A moment later, his hand started to scribble across the paper. He could feel his hand moving without his input but felt that if he wanted to stop at any point, he could. His hand was still his; she was just using it.

Je to lehčí. (It is easier.)

Nakonec s vámi možná budu moci mluvit přímo. (Eventually, I may be able to speak to you directly.)

Damian translated the paper quickly before speaking, "Directly, you mean like telepathic communication."

Ano. (Yes.)

Ale pouze pokud jste ochotni. (But only if you are willing.)

"Willing?"

Nebudu narušovat vaše soukromí. (I will not invade your privacy.)

Damian paused for a moment. He hadn't even considered that. For a spirit, Charlotte seemed rather ... polite. Was she really that worried about his comfort?

"If you don't want to invade my privacy, why did you communicate in class?"

Byla to zkouška. (It was a test.)

Chtěl jsem vidět, jestli s tebou můžu mluvit. (I wanted to see if I could talk to you.)

Promiňte. Nechtěl jsem tě vyděsit. (I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.)

Damian stiffened as he read the last words, "You didn't scare me. Something silly like that would never scare me."

Even to him, the words sounded false. He would have to be braver; the son of Batman could not be so cowardly. Damian was about to continue reprimanding himself when Charlotte scratched out one last message.

Strach není hřích. (Fear is not a sin.)