PART 1B TWO: Real Life

Elle

Sometimes I forget that real life still exists. That there is a world, a reality, that isn't all about the Batfamily. Unfortunately, school has woken me up from that. But that makes me think: what is real life, anyway? What defines it? Who defined it in the first place?

Because, to me, simply living with the Batfamily and meeting up with Jason is real life enough. A few arguments, normal teenager rebellion, three meals a day. The only difference is that they're Batman, Robin, Nightwing, and Red Hood. But why can't that be real life? Why do I have to go back to boring school and civilization?

I suppose living the dream in a place I thought impossible has changed how I view the world. So-called real life is boring, uneventful, and something I would prefer to stay away from. Starting school yesterday only reminded me that I don't know anybody besides the Batfamily (and Alfred). And that I am more or less on my own now. I mean, Dick works in Bludhaven, even if he does visit sporadically. And Jason … well, he's Jason. Bruce has to keep up appearances. And Tim has friends – at least at school.

I don't have anyone to talk to or anything to do. Not really. I don't want to intrude on Tim's friendships. And besides schoolwork during the week, what else do I have to do? Tim and Bruce are gone more often than not, either patrolling or working on a case. Jason lives on the other side of town, and it's dangerous just to walk there. I have nothing to do except work hard in school. That's all I have. Real life has hit me.

If real life is so boring and lonely, then I don't want any part of it.

Tuesday, September 1

I was exhausted at school, but there was no way I was going to stop doing my morning exercise routine, nor was I going to go to bed any earlier than midnight. I had to suck it up. My classmates more or less ignored me, as was typical with a new kid. It was up to me to find friends, not have friends come to me. I decided not to care about friends. I didn't need any. I had the Batfamily. That was all I needed.

I wasn't exactly thinking that when I was called teacher's pet once or twice in English class. Or when that one group of students tripped me in the halls. It was just that one group that didn't like me. Or maybe it was just a way to introduce me to the school. A test, of sorts. A test that I definitely didn't like.

I sat with Tim and his friends at lunch, but they didn't try very hard to include me in their conversation. It didn't matter, though. I had a feeling I wouldn't be hanging out with any of them any time soon, anyway. Partially because I was too shy. Partially because I simply didn't want to.

In study hall, Tim and I once again went to the library to do our homework. And, once again, he left just minutes before I had a question. Why did that always happen to me? I just didn't understand math or science. Tomorrow, I vowed to do those homework assignments first so that I could get Tim to help me.

I almost fell asleep in art class. It wasn't my type of class, and I wasn't the best at it. Okay, I was absolutely horrible at it. I couldn't even draw a simple stick figure properly.

After school, I caught Tim at his locker.

"Hey, um, I'm going to the library for a while," I told him.

Tim raised an eyebrow as he shut his locker and turned to me. "You're going to meet with Jason, aren't you."

I blushed and fiddled with my backpack strap. "Yeah."

Frustration and concern flitted across Tim's face for a moment before he shrugged. "Alright. Not like I can stop you."

I smiled. "Really?" I asked, amazed that he'd give in so easily.

Tim grinned in return. "Really."

I fought the urge to hug him, thinking it would be too weird. Dick hugging me was one thing. Me hugging Tim was another. "Thank you!" I said excitedly.

I ran out of the school and then walked to the library. Just as he'd said, Jason stood beside his motorcycle, waiting for me. As soon as he saw me, he got onto the bike. I ran up, put on my helmet, and climbed on behind him.

We went to the place where he'd taught me how to shoot a gun. I took my helmet off and looked around in confusion.

"What're we doing?" I asked, putting my helmet down.

Jason removed his own helmet. "Weapons training. And before you ask, not guns."

I pouted. I actually really liked shooting guns. "Well, what then?"

Jason pulled out a gym bag from some bushes. He must have hidden it there earlier, knowing that there wouldn't be enough room on the motorcycle for it with me on it. He opened the bag. I stood over it, peering inside. I could see nunchucks, a batarang, a sai, a small knife – a boot knife, I would learn later – and a pair of escrima sticks that looked suspiciously like Nightwing's.

"What are you, a ninja?" I asked dryly.

Jason waved his hand at the back. "Take your pick."

I studied the contents of the bag for a minute longer before pulling out the batarang. "Okay. So how do I use it?"

"You throw it," Jason said.

Duh. Even I knew that. But I guess Jason wanted to see how bad I was without prior instruction. I flipped the batarang around in my hand a few times until it felt right. I took a step back and looked over at a target that Jason had set up. I took a couple of deep breaths and then threw it as hard as I could. The batarang hit the target, but it didn't stick, instead falling to the ground.

"Good job, Cougar," Jason commented sarcastically. I retrieved the batarang and then returned to him. "Now, try like this." He positioned my entire stance, not just how I held the weapon. He showed me the proper way to throw it. "It's not all about strength."

I tried again a few more times. I managed to hit the target, but the batarang only stuck once. Tired of using the batarang, I turned back the gym bag. I quickly grew bored with the sai, injured myself with the nunchucks, and couldn't for the life of me figure out how to use the escrima sticks.

The boot knife was the only weapon I was actually good at using. Jason showed me how to throw it, although I preferred using it in hand-to-hand combat. I practiced that with a part of a dummy that I guessed Jason had stolen from somewhere. I learned how to stab upwards and downwards, depending on what I wanted to hit.

After some pleading, Jason allowed me to shoot his gun a few times at the targets. I was glad to see I'd improved. I could at least hit the target, even if it wasn't in the center.

By the time we were finished, it was nearly seven thirty. Jason drove me to the library, and from there I walked back to the manor. Tim and Bruce were out, so it was just me eating at the kitchen table, plus Alfred.

Later on, I was lying in bed with my laptop, when Dick texted me. I guessed that if Bruce needed days off from being Batman, then Dick needed days off from being Nightwing.

DICK: I'm bored.

ELLE: Kay.

DICK: You should entertain me!

ELLE: Don't feel like it.

DICK: You said you're 17, right?

ELLE: Yeah…

DICK: So you should drive over to Bludhaven and entertain me!

ELLE: Can't drive.

ELLE: Even if I could, I wouldn't drive all the way to Bludhaven.

DICK: You can't drive?

ELLE: Nope.

DICK: You have a permit at least?

ELLE: Nope.

DICK: That's it. I'm teaching you how to drive.

ELLE: What if I don't want to?

DICK: You have to learn sometime.

ELLE: That time is not now.

DICK: Yes it is.

DICK: Better start studying for you permit test.

ELLE: No.

DICK: I'll be in Gotham in 3 days. I'll take you for the test.

ELLE: …You're not serious…

DICK: Yup!

I sighed and turned back to my laptop, which was on my nightstand. I had no choice. If Dick was going to drag me to get my learner's permit, then I might as well get the freaking permit. I looked up what I had to know and started studying. I fell asleep an hour later.

Unfortunately, I was woken up not too much later by a really bad nightmare. My nightmares were gradually changing to include the Batfamily. And that scared me. I turned onto my side and brought my knuckles to my mouth, sobbing as flashes of the nightmare returned to my head. I stared at the wall, tears quickly soaking my sheets.

I looked up in alarm when my bedroom door opened. Tim entered my room, exhausted.

"I heard you cry out," he said. "And your light was on, so …"

I closed my eyes and turned my head into my pillow, ashamed.

Tim sat on the edge of my bed. "Why didn't you tell us you had nightmares?" he asked. I shrugged the best I could while lying on my side. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head and let out a sob.

"If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm here," he said. "And he might not look it, but so is Bruce."

I sniffed, slowly calming down. "Sorry." Sorry for crying, sorry for being weak, sorry for waking you up – or keeping you awake, whatever the case may be.

Tim awkwardly patted my shoulder. I appreciated the effort. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." I didn't answer. Tim tried again to get me to talk. "We all have nightmares. I don't think any less of you."

I grinned weakly, opening my eyes and looking up at Tim's concerned face. "Thanks," I said. I sat up. "I don't want to talk about it, but thanks."

Tim hesitated before hugging my gently. He pulled away before I could relax.

"If you ever need anything, I'm right across the hall," he reminded me before leaving my room. I got up and turned the light off before falling asleep for the second time. This time, I had no nightmares.

Saturday, September 4

School was school. The same group of kids teased me and pushed me around a bit, but I was quickly growing used to it. The boy I sat next to in art class helped me with my drawings so that I could actually pass the class, but other than that, I had no contact with anyone except Tim, and even that was minimal. It wasn't his fault; he invited me to eat and hang out with his friends, but I just didn't feel comfortable doing so. And I didn't blame him for preferring to talk to his friends rather than to me.

Dick came to visit. Everyone was surprised; apparently, he hadn't phoned ahead. All he did was wink at me and say, "I did say three days." I only glared at him half-heartedly in response.

Dick drove me to the DMV. I'd studied the best I could, but it was difficult. There was so much to remember. Honestly, I didn't feel confident at all. I was pretty sure I was going to fail the permit test.

After four hours of waiting, a quick eye test, and the actual permit test, I received my learner's permit. I very nearly didn't get it. I was one question away from failing it. Dick took me to McDonald's and got me an ice cream to celebrate.

"I'm so proud of you," Dick repeated for the billionth time. He wouldn't leave me alone, even after we'd returned to the manor. "I can't wait to teach you how to drive."

I sighed. "How can you teach me how to drive if you live in Bludhaven?" I asked dryly.

The truth was, I didn't trust Dick to teach me how to drive. He wasn't the best driver. And I was so worried that if I messed up, he would be disappointed in me or would hold it over my head forever as blackmail.

Dick pouted. "I'll figure something out."

I spotted Alfred coming towards us. "Hey, Alfred?" I asked. "Can you teach me how to drive?" I trusted him a lot more. He was a safer driver, would (hopefully) be a good teacher, and would (hopefully) be more encouraging than teasing.

Dick turned to me with fake hurt on his face. "Hey, that was supposed to be my job."

"If I may say, Master Richard, I don't blame Miss Elle at all for not trusting you to teach her how to drive," Alfred teased in that way he does. "Your driving is atrocious at best."

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said sarcastically. He grinned over at me. "You better get driving, then."

"He didn't agree to anything," I tried to stall. I really didn't want to learn how to drive. It was a lot of effort, not to mention, it wasn't like I actually had to drive anywhere. I preferred walking when Alfred wasn't driving me.

"I would be happy to assist in your driving lessons, Miss Elle," Alfred told me.

I spent an hour learning how to drive around. It was awful. I stopped too early at stop signs and pressed the gas too hard to get going so that the car lurched forward. I was a very choppy driver and found it difficult to stay on the right side of the road. And the speed limits …

Real life was certainly catching up with me. A little too fast.