Warnings: language, domestic abuse, attempted rape (doesn't go very far)

Part 1B TEN: Hanging Onto Life

Elle

I've changed so much that I don't even know who I am anymore. I am so conflicted about what to do. So I stick with keeping Nico happy. But I'm dying, and a part of me wishes I was dead. I'm barely hanging onto life.

I have to be better for Nico. I know this. But I don't understand why he hurts me. He doesn't mean it. I'm sure of that. But I'm losing my will to fight. Why can't I just use what Jason has taught me? Why can't I be brave and strong and determined enough to fight back? I can't do it, though. And I just don't understand why.

A part of me wants to slip away, give full control of my life to Nico. I'm practically there already. Yet I don't want to be dead. I don't want him to control me. And so I barely hang onto life.

But do I really even care anymore?

Friday, October 23

I skipped breakfast and my morning run again. I ignored Tim on the car ride to school and avoided him all day. In the hallway, I walked up to Jasmine. I couldn't stop myself from doing so. I wanted to avoid her, too – she knew too much – but maybe that was also what drew me to her.

"Hey, um," I cleared my throat. Jasmine looked over at me in surprise and shut her locker, giving her full attention to me. "I just wanted to, uh, say sorry. For everything. I'm not usually like that." Rude, ignorant, angry, bitchy, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Jasmine smiled gently. "It changes you," she said quietly. "You know it. You've noticed it. So why don't you ask for help?"

I fiddled with the end of my long-sleeved shirt nervously. "I don't know," I told her honestly. "I just don't know."

"What are you ladies talking about?" Nico asked cheerfully. Too cheerfully. I swallowed. He stared at me, smile on his face, but his eyes were hard and angry. I backed against the lockers.

Jasmine glared at Nico. "None of your business," she spat. Her glare faltered when Nico turned to her, smile gone in a second. She took a step away.

"Oh, really?" Nico continued with his charade. There were other students in the hall, after all. "I'll just leave, then." He turned to me. "Coming, babe?"

Jasmine shook her head at me. I clutched my purse strap. I nodded jerkily and put a weak smile on my face. I was in trouble. So, so stupid. Why was I so fucking stupid? "Of course."

"You don't have to," Jasmine said to me. Her expression pleaded with me not to go. She knew what was going to happen, too.

I shrugged, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. "See ya, Jasmine."

Nico squeezed my hand – the hand that I'd cut glass on – tightly as he led me to an empty classroom in an empty hallway where no one could hear us unless we shouted. I had to fight not to cry out or flinch, but tears filled my eyes. How pathetic was that.

"What did you tell her?" Nico spun around, happy façade gone, replaced by fury. I didn't answer. Nico stepped closer to me. I flinched and tried to step away, but Nico gripped my arms tightly. I bit my lip to stop myself from yelping. "What. Did. You. Tell. Her."

"N-nothing," I stammered. The pressure on my arms increased. "I-I swear!"

"Don't lie to me." Nico pushed me to the ground. I grunted in an attempt to prevent a louder sound from escaping my lips. Nico knelt on top of my and gripped my throat. I gasped. "Now. Try again."

"I didn't tell her anything!" I gasped out with difficulty. Nico applied more pressure to my throat. I couldn't breathe. Oh, God, I couldn't breathe I couldn't breathe I couldn't fucking breathe!

He finally let go of my throat, leaving me gasping for air and coughing. He stood up.

"Don't ever speak to her again. You hear me?" Nico pulled my arm sharply to get me to a standing position. He leaned in close to my face. "Don't even look at her."

I nodded hastily. "Okay. Okay, I promise. I'm sorry."

Nico left me alone in the classroom. I went to the bathroom and put more cover-up on. So many bruises in so little time. How did Bruce or Tim not notice? Did they not care? Did they think that I deserved this? Why? Why didn't they help me? Why didn't they see?

I was astonished to find that I was crying. I had to reapply the cover-up.

But they were detectives. So why couldn't they see?

At lunch, Tim tried to talk to me, but I avoided him and made a hasty retreat to the art classroom, where Nico apologized and we laughed and joked like he hadn't choked me earlier in the day. Tim tried to speak to me in the library at study hall, but I left and hid in the bathroom. It wasn't as if I paid any attention in class anymore. It wasn't as if I was actually going to do my homework. I had more important things to worry about.

Unfortunately, Tim managed to corner me as soon as I exited the bathroom before art class. He studied my face, but what for, I wasn't sure. I was quickly beginning to panic and couldn't meet Tim's eyes. I tried to get around him, but he simply blocked my path. My breathing picked up. My palms started sweating. I was trapped. Oh, God, I was trapped. I didn't like this. Not at all. I backed against the wall in an attempt to increase the space between Tim and I.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?" Tim asked. He was confused, but also concerned. I was happy and scared about that. I wanted him to see, but I didn't at the same time. Save me, I wanted to yell. Go away, I wanted to shout.

I licked my lips, which suddenly seemed so very dry. "I didn't want you to know," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady and confident. But I still couldn't look Tim in the eye.

Tim frowned, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He was suddenly so very hard to read. I took that as a bad sign. I tensed. What if he knew? No, he couldn't know. Did I want him to know?

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "'Cause."

There were so many reasons I hadn't told him. But I didn't know why I'd kept it from him for so long. I liked having the secret. I liked not having to worry about overprotective Bats. Yet perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps I was scared.

Tim tried to gain eye contact with me. I stared at the floor. "That's not an answer."

"So what's he like?" Tim asked me when I didn't reply. "Do I know him?"

"He's …" I didn't know how to describe him. Or maybe I just didn't want to.

"Elle," Tim said cautiously, lowly, worriedly. "Does he hurt you?"

Yes, I wanted to scream. No, I wanted to yell. Go away, I wanted to shout.

"We should get to class," I tried to shoulder past Tim. He blocked my way so abruptly that I accidentally flinched. I wiped my palms on my skirt. Please, please just stop Tim.

"Does he hit you?" Tim asked.

I gathered up my courage and said firmly to the floor, "No. He doesn't. He loves me. He's an amazing boyfriend and you don't get to assume things about someone you haven't met." Why did I say that? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Hey, babe." I flinched. I was in trouble again. So much trouble. I should have kept my mouth shut. I wasn't supposed to talk to Tim. Nico slid his arm around my waist. He gave me a kiss. "Wanna come over to my place later?"

I smiled over at him but couldn't meet his eyes, either. I didn't want to see the anger, the rage, the threat. "Sure."

Tim must have seen something in the way we interacted. Stupid Bats. Stupid me. "Elle, Alfred wants you home for dinner."

"We'll just cut the visit short, then," Nico said. Tim eyed my boyfriend with distrust. I tugged on Nico's arm.

"We'll be late for class," I said quietly.

We all went to the art room. Tim tried to talk to me there, as well, but Nico kept glaring and I refused to answer, so Tim gave up. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit something. I wanted control.

As soon as Nico and I entered his apartment, he beat me senseless. I cried and screamed for him to stop. I wondered why the neighbors didn't call the police. I was glad they didn't. I was mad they didn't. I just curled up and took the beating. I deserved it. I was so very, very stupid.

And then it got worse. Oh, how it got worse.

"You don't appreciate me, you stupid bitch!" Nico shouted at me, slamming a fist into my side.

"Yes I do!" I protested weakly. "I love you!"

"Then why haven't we done it yet!" he demanded. He started inching my shirt up my stomach. I crawled back as quick as I could, eyes widening. Please, no. Please, please no.

"I'm not ready," I sobbed. The truth was, I'd never been interested in sex. With anybody. And Nico was no exception.

Nico grabbed my skirt. I scrambled away. My skirt tore. He tried to grab me but I kicked him in the crotch. He bent over in pain. I used that to knee him in the face. On a roll, I proceeded to use what Jason had taught me and punched him a few times. It felt good, but as soon as Nico tried to grab me again, I panicked. I grabbed my purse and ran. I just ran and ran and ran for who knew how long. I was crying hysterically in the middle of the street. No one bothered to help me. That was Gotham for you.

I couldn't go back to Nico's. Not after that. And I couldn't go back the manor. There would be too many questions, not to mention Tim would have told Bruce his suspicions by now. I couldn't deal with it. My cell phone buzzed. I watched as text message after text message entered my inbox.

NICO: Get back here you fucking bitch.

NICO: Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?

NICO: How many other guys have you had sex with?

NICO: You're a whore.

NICO: Get back here!

NICO: You know you want it.

NICO: That's all you're good for, anyway.

I couldn't handle all the texts anymore. I put my phone on silent. But I was lost and had nowhere to go. Jason would hunt down Nico. I didn't know anyone else. Except … I dug around in my purse and finally found that slip of paper. I dialed the number and held the phone to my ear, ignoring the constant beeping informing me of new text messages.

"Hello?"

I swallowed thickly. I opened my mouth, but all that came out were a few sobs.

"Who's there?"

I took a shaky breath. "Jasmine?" I sniffed. "I … You were right. I need help. Please. I just-I need-I –"

"Where are you?" Jasmine asked. "I'll come get you and we can talk."

I told her my location. She stayed on the phone with me as I blubbered and waited for her to arrive. Twenty minutes later, she came up to where I was.

"Thank you," I said, still crying.

Jasmine listened to me rant some more before gently leading me to the bus station. We took the bus to a more suburban part of the city and then walked from there. She led me to her house and even snuck me past her family.

In her room, she finally said, "You need to break up with him."

I shook my head in despair. "I can't, I –"

Jasmine placed her hand over mine. I tensed, but the longer her hand was there, the more I relaxed. "I know you're scared," she said calmly as soon as I'd relaxed. "But you have to."

"But I have to keep him happy," I said. "I'm scared, but he needs me. I know he does. I just need to be better."

"No, you don't," Jasmine told me firmly. She inched closer to me on her bed. I tensed and flinched. Once again, Jasmine waited until the tension had left my body before continuing speaking. "What he's doing is wrong."

"But I love him," I said like a broken record. "I know I do." Did I? "And he loves me." I broke down crying again. "But why does he hit me? Why aren't I good enough?"

Jasmine gently put her arms around me in a loose hug. Only after I'd relaxed did she tighten her hold on me slightly. I collapsed against her, crying into her shoulder.

"You are good enough," she said gently. "You'll get through this."

Jasmine let me stay overnight. For that, I was thankful. I didn't know what I would do if the Batfamily interrogated me the minute I stepped into the manor. The texts and missed calls were bad enough.

TIM: Where are you? Please don't tell me you're with your boyfriend.

TIM: I've asked around. There are so many rumors about you guys…

TIM: Have you slept with him?

TIM: Did he force you to?

TIM: Please, Elle, I have to know.

TIM: Please text back so I know you're not dead.

TIM: Elle?

He must have told Bruce and Dick because there were missed calls from the both of them. Plus a few scattered text messages.

BRUCE: Come home, Elle. We're worried.

BRUCE: Is it true that you have a boyfriend?

BRUCE: I will go out and find you if I have to.

I winced at that. I kind of hoped he wouldn't.

DICK: What's this I hear about a boyfriend?

DICK: Why did Tim just tell me he thinks your bf hits you?

DICK: Answer me, Elle.

DICK: What's going on?

DICK: That's it. I'm going to Gotham. You better be at the manor when I get there.

I bit my lip. When Dick got angry, he got angry. My pulse raced as my mind connected that thought to Nico hitting me. I shook the images away. Dick wouldn't hit me. Would he? No, of course he wouldn't. What was I thinking? Except a part of me couldn't help but wonder.

And then there were the couple of texts from Jason.

JASON: Where is this boyfriend of yours so I can kill him slowly and painfully.

JASON: You better not be with him, or so help me …

I fell asleep, but not before worrying about my return to the manor. I didn't exactly have any other place to stay. It was either the manor or Jason's apartment. Either way, I'd have to face someone. I'd rather it not be the guy with the gun.

But I'd rather it wasn't anyone even more.