Warnings: language

PART 1A EIGHT: Life is Short

Elle

Life is short. That is one thing that everyone needs to remember. Ninety or one hundred years seems like a long time. It isn't. And so many bad things can happen before then that cut life short. Illness. Motor accidents. Murder. And suddenly, your life is even shorter. It's when they're about to die that most people realize how little time they really had in life. But it's too late, and they're dead. Gone. Just like that.

The older you are, the more likely you'll have realized this. When you live with your parents and go to school, death seems like such a long way off. You have plans for the future. You think you'll be able to accomplish most, if not all, of them. But when you're on your own and you suddenly have to balance work and family and fun activities, suddenly there isn't much room for anything else. Time flies, and suddenly, you're old and retired. You realize just how little you actually did with your life and wish you could go back and start over. But you can't.

People make fun of teenagers for having bucket lists, but in reality, the teenagers who have bucket lists realize just how short a time they have to live. They make a list of all the things they want to see or do and cross them off as they accomplish them. It's living to the fullest, like I said before. Don't hesitate, because that hesitation might feel like a second, but it's actually years and years, wasted. Don't just talk; actually do the things you want to.

That's what I did by going to Jason. It was a risk to go to him. He could have killed me. Or Bruce could have found out and kept me locked in the manor, away from Jason. Even along the way, I could have been kidnapped or murdered by the crazies who roam the streets of Gotham. But I wanted to learn how to fight, so I went to the only person who would teach me.

Slowly, I'm learning to take my own advice. I'm learning to stop hesitating, stop procrastinating, and just live.

Monday, July 8

I woke up with the help of my nightmares, once again. It was early. Again. I did my now-routine sit-ups and push-ups and recorded my progress in a small notebook Tim had given me after realizing I'd run out of books. I took a shower and headed downstairs.

I no longer hid up in my room until breakfast. I was making more of an effort to talk more to my soon-to-be family. And I was now on breakfast duty with Alfred every other day and dinner on the others. If I wasn't making breakfast but I was up early, I usually just sat in the living room and waited to go into the kitchen. Sometimes, Tim or Dick (who had left a couple of days ago back to Bludhaven) would also be up and we'd talk. They still refused to tell me any details about what happened at night or in the Batcave, though.

My punishment was supposed to be over today, but I wanted to ask Bruce or Alfred before I went for a run – something I'd missed doing, if only to try to get in shape, especially now that Jason was teaching me how to fight.

At breakfast, I did ask Bruce, who told me I was no longer grounded. I received my laptop and cell phone from Alfred after the meal. I transferred my exercise log from the notebook to my Word document. Then I grabbed my library books and headed downstairs.

"Alfred, I'm going to the library," I told said man.

"Would you like me to drive you there, miss?" Alfred asked.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I want to walk."

Alfred eyed the stack of books in my arms. "That won't do. Wait one moment, please."

I waited by the door. When Alfred returned, he had a backpack with him. "This was master Richard's when he attended school," Alfred told me. He helped me put the books in the bag. I shouldered the backpack.

"Thanks," I told him, grinning.

I went to the library for about an hour. Then I made my way to Jason's apartment. I knocked. When Jason answered, he quirked an eyebrow.

"Running away again?" he asked, nodding towards the backpack. "Because you're not staying here."

I slid into his apartment. "It's library books," I corrected. "So what am I learning today?"

Jason threw his motorcycle helmet over to me as he walked out the door. I hurried to follow him.

"I'm thinking more blocks," Jason said. "And defensive maneuvers."

I nodded in agreement. I'd heard somewhere – probably a movie – that a strong defense was a good offense. Not to mention, good self defense in general.

Jason drove us to a park. When we got there, he made me run a lap around the edge of it for a warm up. I was exhausted afterwards, but I was unwilling to give up. Jason spent the next couple of hours teaching me more defense moves. He even taught me the basic punch, which I had some problems with:

"Come on," Jason said, hands raised, palm faced me. "Punch harder." I tried for the millionth time. "You keep pulling your punches. Don't."

"I don't want to hurt you," I said pathetically.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Come on, kid, just do it. I've had worse than whatever real punch you can actually land."

I frowned. "I'm not horrible at punching."

"You're pulling your punches, and those barely touch me."

I tried again. And again. And again.

"Is that really the best you've got?" Jason snorted. "This is a waste of time."

Angry, I tried again. I didn't pull the punch this time, but it was sloppy.

"Oh, look, you're angry," Jason mocked. "Try channeling that anger into focus."

"You're one to talk," I muttered.

"Hey, how do you think I'm such a good shot?" Jason retorted.

I used my anger and frustration I felt and put it into my punches. I did so several more times until Jason was satisfied.

"Tomorrow?" I asked later when he dropped me off in front of the library.

"Whatever, kid," Jason replied, driving off. I took that as a yes.

Tuesday, July 9

Excited, I did the same routine as I had yesterday, and then some. I woke up early – again, to nightmares – did sit-ups and push-ups, went for a run, helped make breakfast and clean up, then went out. I just told Alfred that I wanted to see more of Gotham, and seeing that Tim was busy doing whatever he did, I would go alone. Alfred allowed me to do so, as long as I had my phone on me.

I spent a much longer time with Jason today than I had yesterday. We worked on perfecting the moves I'd already learned until the last hour, when we did a sort of spar using those moves. Jason would try to punch me and I would try to block or duck out of the way, and vice versa.

Jason teased me a bit, though. Well, he was sarcastic and mocking, but I was pretty sure that was just his way of poking fun at me. I didn't mind at all.

"You're way too serious," he told me at one point as we had a stand-off. I tried to fake a punch, but Jason used that to land a hit on my stomach. I fell to the ground, but I didn't cry out, which was better than I'd done earlier. "You done yet?"

"Not a chance," I panted, getting back up on my feet. I observed his body language, trying to get an idea of where he was going to try to punch next.

"Lighten up, Tiger," Jason said, throwing another punch that I barely managed to block. "You're too tense. Your reaction times slow down the tighter your muscles are."

I scowled. "I hate tigers."

I aimed a left-handed punch towards his chest. As he blocked it, I tried to hit his jaw with an uppercut punch. He caught my wrists. Unable to break free, I aimed a kick for his left ankle. Jason used my poor technique to lock my own ankle around his, tripping me. Jason let go of my wrists, letting me fall.

"Slow down there, Cougar," Jason said. "No kicks for a couple of weeks."

I sighed but nodded. Jason dropped me off at the library again, and I ran back Wayne Manor. I was glad that Jason didn't punch me very hard, otherwise I'd have a bunch of bruises I'd need to explain away. I had a couple of bruises, but they were small and easily explained away.

And so my new routine began.

Friday, August 14

It had been a little over a month since Jason started teaching me how to fight. In that time, I'd more or less perfected the defensive moves and gotten a lot better at punching. I'd learned basic kicking techniques, as well, although those I was having trouble with. Jason had also shown me where the spare key to his apartment was and had bought me my own motorcycle helmet. I'd stopped going straight to the manor after practice; I'd go back to Jason's apartment and hang out with him. I was pretty sure I'd grown on him, too. Not like he'd ever admit it. But he's trained me in fighting for as long as I wanted three or four days a week, so he must at least enjoy having company.

I still had my push-ups and sit-ups routine (I could do both of them a lot more easily now, although I still struggled with push-ups) and I ran in the mornings (and again whenever I trained with Jason). My excuse for leaving was that I'd made a friend and was spending time with him, which was pretty much true. I just didn't mention any names.

I had been out two days in a row, though, so I had to stay in the manor today. I spent my morning after breakfast reading and watching Batman cartoons – the former in the living room and the latter in my bedroom. When I went down for a quick lunch, I was surprised to see Dick there.

I smiled. "Dickie!" I exclaimed, earning a teasing glare from him. He pulled me into a hug.

"Master Dick, Miss Elle," Alfred said, handing us sandwiches. We thanked him and sat in the living room. Lunch was informal, something I enjoyed.

"How've you been, Ellie?" Dick asked, taking a bite of his food.

I shrugged. "Good."

"You sure?"

Okay, now I knew something was up. I looked at Dick questioningly.

"Tim says you made a friend," Dick said.

I nodded. "Yeah. He and I hang out a lot."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "He's not forcing you to do anything, is he?"

I nearly choked on my food. I stared wide-eyed at the man beside me. "What? No!"

"Bruce and Tim have noticed that you spend nearly full days with this person none of us have met," Dick said. "And then you come back here exhausted."

I bit my lip. I struggled for an answer. "I go for runs a lot," I told him, which was true. "He and I go running together. Or go to his place." Both true.

"Alfred is worried, too," Dick went on. "No one's met your friend. We just want to make sure he isn't a creep and that you're not getting hurt."

I smiled, hopefully in a reassuring manner. "He's not. I promise. I wouldn't talk to him if he was."

Dick nodded, seemingly satisfied. I hoped he was. After all, he was a cop during the day and Nightwing at night. And I wasn't good at reading people at all, much less a Bat.

Dick dropped the subject, and no one else confronted me about it, so I assumed that it was all taken care of.

Saturday, August 15

I left the manor as I did so often now with no complaints, only a 'be safe' from Dick, who had crashed at the manor after making an appearance as Nightwing last night.

I entered Jason's apartment. "You ready?" I asked. He tossed me my helmet.

"Let's go, Cougar."

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at the nickname. But, like with Dick calling me Ellie, there was no stopping Jason from calling me Cougar.

Today was a 'lesson' day, which meant that we spent the entire time with a new move, or adding an additional kick or punch or twist to one big complicated maneuver. The moves had become a lot more complicated, but I picked up each part quick. It was the actual usage of them that I had difficulty with.

We'd practiced longer than usual today, not to mention I wanted to spend some time with Dick before he returned to Bludhaven, so we didn't stop by Jason's apartment. Jason gave me a ride to the library, and then I headed back to the manor. I was getting good at this. And, to be honest, I enjoyed spending time with Jason.

Later that night, Dick came into my room. It was one of those nights where the Bats actually slept – yes, they had those. Dick stood in my doorway for a moment before speaking.

"I saw you with Jason," Dick said simply, leaning against the doorframe. My eyes shot up to him, my book quickly forgotten. I placed the book aside, angry.

"You followed me?" I accidentally yelled. I stood up abruptly and walked over to Dick. "You had no right to do that!"

"The others were worried," Dick said. "And, after seeing how much in a rush you were this morning, I was too. Not to mention your reactions to how conversation yesterday. You're a convincing liar, except that you were eating." I frowned, not understanding. Dick elaborated, "You stop or slow down chewing when you're about to lie or thinking about a lie."

"Technically, I didn't lie," I muttered, crossing my arms and lowering my gaze to the ground.

Dick sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. "Jason's dangerous, Elle. You need to stop meeting up with him."

I pulled away sharply, glaring at the floor. "No."

"Elle –"

"I said no!" I shouted, glaring daggers at him. "Like it or not, he's my friend. More than that, he's my future family, just as much as you or Bruce or Tim is!"

"He's a criminal," Dick replied tightly. "And he's changed you."

I stared at him, astonished. "How?" I demanded, exasperated.

"Your temper, for one," Dick replied. "How long until he turns you into a murderer, too?"

Forgetting how I'd met Jason, I retorted, "That's not going to happen. And I just happen to agree with his methods of fighting crime, thank you very much!"

"That's not how we do things!" Dick finally yelled, unleashing his own anger and frustration.

"No, that's not how you do things!" I spat. "I'm not a Bat, remember? I don't go around fighting crime."

"Even agreeing with Jason's method of 'controlling crime' is different about you," Dick snapped. "He's changed the way you think."

"I've always thought this way, Dick. No one ever asked."

"You're being ridiculous!" Dick exclaimed.

"What's going on?" Tim asked, appearing in my doorway. I shuffled my feet before regaining my posture. I couldn't show weakness. But it was hard not to when I was going to be arguing against two Bats at once.

"Elle's been meeting up with Jason," Dick told the third Robin.

Tim stared at me in shock. "Are you insane?" he asked. "This is Jason we're talking about! He tried to kill me, in case you didn't know!"

"He can't be trusted," Dick added.

I felt the tears coming and knew I had to do something before I showed weakness. "Why'd you really follow me in the first place?" I demanded. "Didn't you trust me?"

"I trusted you," Dick told me. His voice had calmed, but his body language still showed how angry he was. Tim seemed to be in a state of shock or denial. He stared at me wide-eyed, probably unable to accept that I was friends with Jason.

"Then why'd you follow me?" I repeated.

"Besides the lies and the worries?" Dick said. "I trusted you, but I didn't trust whoever you were with. Turns out I was right."

"Of all the people you hang out with, you choose Jason Todd!" Tim exclaimed, shaking his head.

"It's not just hanging out," Dick informed him. "He's teaching Elle how to fight."

"He's what?"

"Get out," I growled, tired of being treated like a child. I was starting to feel more and more ganged up on. "I'm not having this conversation."

"Elle –"

"Get the fuck out of my room!" I screamed, cutting off whatever Tim was going to say. Even though I knew it wouldn't do any good, I pushed on Dick to get him out of the doorway. Dick must have given up on reasoning with me – at least for tonight – because he let himself be pushed out into the hallway. He motioned for Tim to leave, as well.

As soon as I had closed the door, I sank onto my bed and cried.