Warnings: language, domestic violence

PART 1B FIVE: Love Life, Be Brave

Elle

Because you only exist once – not live; exist – you need to do your best to love your all-too-brief existence. You can't complain for all eighty-something years of your life about the things you don't have or the things you haven't done. That's a waste of time, a waste of existence.

You have to love what you have, enjoy what you've done. You have a family? Love them, love it, embrace the fact that you have a family at all. You went travelling? Love every place you've been to, love the experience, enjoy it, remember it. You live alone in a crap apartment with three cats? Love the fact that you have a place to live, love your pets, love how you're still existing.

Love what life has offered, or rather, what life has given you. Don't turn it away or complain about it or turn it into something bad. Love that you've been given a chance to prove yourself, to prove that you are able to continue existing no matter how much or how little you have.

But you have to be brave in order to be able to do that. If life makes you lose your job, then you have to be brave enough to look for another one. You can't let yourself fall apart. You can't give up. If life gives you your first child, then you have to be brave enough to raise it. You can't let yourself have any doubts. You have to give your child your all, no matter how scared you are.

You have to be brave enough to make decisions, and be brave enough to follow through with them. And then you have to love the fact that life has given you the chance to do something different, to prove yourself worthy of existence.

Friday, October 16

I walked with Tim from the parking lot to the school property. My face was sore, but there was no swelling or redness. I had put on a bit of cover-up, just in case. Tim looked exhausted, blinking wearily at his surroundings.

"Long night?" I asked.

Tim nodded. He yawned. "We just can't get this guy," he told me. Before I could try to get any details about the case, he asked, "Where were you yesterday at lunch? I meant to ask but I haven't seen you."

I shrugged. "I made a friend," I replied vaguely. He wouldn't get overprotective over a friend. At least, I hoped not.

"Anyone I know?" Tim looked over at me.

"Probably not."

The first bell rang. We went our separate ways to our lockers. Nico was waiting at mine. I smiled. Knowing that Tim's locker wasn't anywhere near mine, I leaned up and kissed him.

"Good morning," I said, getting what I needed from my locker. Nico leaned against the wall.

"Let me walk you to class?" he asked. I nodded and shut my locker. We kissed lightly in front of my history class.

"See you at lunch," I said.

As I passed my classmates on the way to my seat, I heard a girl cough under her breath, "Slut."

I paused, but ignored her. Halfway through class, a balled-up piece of notebook paper appeared on my desk. I looked in the general direction it was thrown from. One of the boys was half-smirking while pretending to pay attention to the lecture. I opened up the paper.

How much for one night?

I crumpled up the ball. On the way out of class, I tossed it into the recycling bin. I ignored the snickers of my peers. I didn't understand. I knew that almost everyone in my grade knew Nico and I were in a relationship, but why were they calling me a slut? What was the joke?

It happened my next few classes, too. I was called a slut and a whore. I had to leave gym early because I couldn't handle it any longer. I ran to the girls' locker room and cried. I was so in tune to my thoughts – why now? Why me? – that I didn't realize that someone was beside me.

"I'm sorry for what everyone's been saying to you," the girl said. She seemed really sincere, too. I wiped my eyes. "But about Nico –"

"I don't want to hear it," I said, suddenly angry. It wasn't fair. I was trying to be more independent, and instead, I cried like a wimp, ran like a coward. I glared at the girl. I vaguely recognized her as the one who had beckoned me over to her in the library on my first day of school – Jasmine, I thought her name was – but really didn't care. "Just leave me alone." I changed into my uniform quickly.

"But there's something you should –"

"I don't care!" I yelled, still crying, this time tears of frustration and anger. I wiped at my face before leaving. The girl didn't follow me.

I went the cafeteria and got my lunch as soon as the bell rang. I sat at my and Nico's usual table – I chuckled bitterly to myself when I realized that Tim hadn't asked about my seating arrangement until that morning. Nico and I had been sitting together for a while now. I wondered just how much Tim missed.

I shook my head. That wasn't fair. Tim was tired and busy. And he had his own friends. It was no wonder he didn't notice. Or maybe he did but he just kept forgetting to ask. It wasn't that hard to forget something as simple as me switching tables when you have a criminal case or something on your mind.

"Hey, babe," Nico said, sitting next to me.

"Hey, you," I replied.

We talked during the lunch period. He walked me to chemistry, wished me good luck on my test – which I knew I was going to fail – and went to his own class.

In chemistry, I once again heard all the mean things my classmates were saying about me. Was it a rumor? Or did they not know Nico and I were dating until recently? I didn't think that was true. Gossip spread like a wildfire throughout the grade. Hopefully, it wouldn't reach Tim.

The rest of the day, I looked forward to my after-school sparring session with Jason, and then my dinner-date with Nico after that.

Jason picked me up from school again. And, once again, we just sparred. Only this time, Jason was a lot harder on me than he'd been previously. When I made a mistake, he was quicker to point it out and tough on me until I got it perfect.

I understood why, even though it was painful and nearly brought me to frustrated tears. Now that I was going to become the partner of Red Hood, I had to be stronger and better. Just an all-around amazing fighter, really. It wasn't about the fun and the game of fighting and learning anymore. It was about winning and making sure I didn't die.

When I'd returned to the manor, I immediately showered and changed into more casual clothing. I put on makeup and then headed back downstairs. I knew that Bruce, Alfred, and Tim wouldn't be very happy if I was out late again, but I didn't care. I snuck out without any of them noticing – but that was only because they were all in the Batcave. Hopefully, they hadn't even noticed I'd returned. That way, they could just assume I was still with Jason.

I finally arrived at Nico's apartment, right at six-thirty. He let me in with a smile and a kiss. I could smell something cooking in the kitchen.

"Smells good," I told him.

"I hope so," Nico said.

He served spaghetti and homemade meatballs. Needless to say, I was impressed that he made the meatballs from scratch. We had a good time eating our meal.

"Let me help clean up," I said, standing. Nico protested, but I ignored him. I cleaned up our plates and reached for the pan with the remaining meatballs in it. The pan was cool, having sat so long in the air. I turned with the pan in my hands.

"Where are your Tupperware –" I gasped in surprise when I bumped into Nico. I hadn't heard him come up behind me. The sauce from the pan splashed onto Nico's and my shirts, plus the floor.

"Look at what you did!" Nico yelled. I flinched back. He looked at his shirt. "This is going to stain," he complained. "And look at the floor!" He took a dish towel and threw it onto the floor. I stepped away, unconsciously gripping the pan a little tighter. "Why are you so stupid?"

"I'm not stupid," I muttered. I sighed. "Look, it was an accident. I'll clean it up."

"You better," Nico growled. I hated the rage in his eyes.

I bit my lip. "Do you have any Tupperware dishes?" I asked softly, holding the pan up and hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Forget about the fucking Tupperware!" Nico shouted, ripping the pan from my grasp and throwing it to the floor. I flinched as it shattered. What had I done wrong?

"I was just trying to help," I said weakly.

Nico punched my arm, which was already sore from sparring with Jason. I yelped. Nico pushed me to the floor. I very nearly cut my hands on the glass. I felt myself start to cry against my will. No, I had to be strong! I will not be weak! I could handle this! Nico was just mad. I would be, too. It was my fault for not being more careful.

"Clean this up," Nico demanded. It took me a while, seeing as I didn't want to cut my hands, but I managed to pick up the glass and clean the spill on the floor.

Afterwards, I went up to Nico. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"You're so stupid," Nico snapped at me. He pushed me into the wall. "You have to watch what you're doing! And now this shirt is ruined!"

I couldn't take this anymore. I didn't know what to do. So I grabbed my purse and left. Nico didn't follow.

It was nearly nine o' clock, so hopefully, Tim and Bruce would be out working the case. Either way, I painfully made my way into my room through the window. In the bathroom, I examined the bruises on my arms.

It was a good thing it was October, or else people would see them.

I didn't know what I should do next. I mean, it wasn't Nico's fault he got mad. And so what if he had a short temper? A part of me wanted to break up with him, but that wasn't fair. I was the one who'd been stupid enough to spill sauce on everything.

My cell phone beeped. A new text.

NICO: God, I'm so, so sorry. I love you and I know I got a little mad but please, please give me another chance. It was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt you or yell at you.

My fingers paused over the keys. It took me a minute before I knew what to reply with. I didn't want to set him off again.

ELLE: I forgive you. Everybody gets mad sometimes, and it was my fault. I still love you.

NICO: You want to meet up tomorrow? I promise it'll be better than today.

ELLE: Sure.

NICO: I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Love you!

ELLE: Love you, too :)

Saturday, October 17

"Where's Tim?" I asked, noticing his absence. Had he slept in?

"He's out with his friends," Bruce replied, eating his breakfast.

I bit my lip. "I'm going out to hang with some friends, too," I said. Bruce looked at me inquisitively. "Hey, I have friends!" Well, a boyfriend, but still.

"Do you need money?" Bruce asked.

I sighed. "I'd rather not take your money. Not when I can't pay you back yet." I'd get a job eventually. Maybe during winter break.

"You're a part of this family now," Bruce said sternly, handing over twenty dollars. "It's your money, too." No, it really wasn't, but I appreciated the effort he was going to make me feel better.

Nico texted me and told me where to meet him. We spent a few hours at the arcade and then headed over to the park. Nico went over to a hot dog stand while I saved us a seat at a bench.

"Elle?" I looked over sharply. Tim. Crap. "What're you doing here?" His confused look turned suspicious. "You're not with Jason, are you?"

I leapt at the excuse. "Yes, I am, actually," I said, eager for Tim to leave. I saw his friends waiting for him. "You should go back to whatever you were doing."

"You could join us," Tim offered.

I shook my head. I saw Nico watching me out of the corner of my eye. "No thanks. Just … doing my own thing is fine."

Tim hesitated before going back to his friends.

Nico came over to the bench and shoved a hotdog into my hand. I ate quickly, starving.

"Who was that?" Nico asked.

I furrowed my brow. I thought everyone knew who Tim was. "Tim. You know, Tim Drake?" Was it possible that Nico truly didn't know that Bruce had adopted Tim? But if the entire city knew that I was being adopted, then shouldn't the entire city know that Tim was adopted already?

"I want you to stop talking to him," Nico told me. I choked on my hotdog.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want you talking to him," Nico rumbled. "I've seen you two talking at school, and now you're talking outside of school –"

"He's my adopted brother," I said, astonished.

Nico grabbed my arm tightly. "I said, stop talking to him!" he shouted. A few passersby stared but they all moved on. More quietly, but still angry, Nico said, "You will stop talking to him." I winced when the grip on my arm grew tighter.

"Okay," I said, just wanting the pain to stop, just wanting Nico to be happy again. I hadn't meant to make him jealous. I was a horrible girlfriend.

Later in the day, Tim and I somehow crossed paths again. This time, I ignored him. Nico was watching, and besides, Tim should have fun with his friends, not be talking to me. I was nothing special.

"Go away," I told Tim, growing frustrated with his talking, growing worried that Nico would get mad.

Tim gaped at me. "What?"

"You heard me," I snapped. I walked away. Tim called my name, but I heard his friends tell him to leave me be. Thank God for that.

Nico only gripped my wrist a little tightly. It was nowhere near as bad as before. I took that as a sign that I'd satisfied him.

But I felt guilty, though, about brushing off Tim. When I got back to Wayne Manor, I avoided Tim at all costs. He tried talking to me multiple times.

"Did I do something wrong?" Tim asked through my locked door. The first time I'd ever locked the door. "Elle, if I did something, just tell me."

I ignored him until he finally had to leave for Robin duty. I cried silently into my pillow. I didn't want to stop talking to Tim, but I wanted Nico to be happy again.

My phone beeped. Thinking it was Nico, I immediately grabbed it. It was from Dick, though.

DICK: You and Tim have a fight?

ELLE: Is that any of your business?

DICK: I'm just worried. Tim sounded upset when he called me.

ELLE: Oh, well.

DICK: This isn't like you at all. What's wrong? Why are you mad at Tim?

That was the thing. I wasn't mad at him. I was mad at myself. Nico was right. I was stupid.

DICK: You can talk to me.

DICK: Come on, I just want to help.

DICK: What's wrong?

ELLE: Nothing's wrong. It's none of your business, anyway, so shut up and leave me the hell alone.

Dick didn't respond after that. I hoped he got the message.

Now feeling even guiltier, because I lashed out at Dick, I cried even harder.

I had the worst nightmare yet that night.