Warning: language

Part 1B TWELVE: Lifesaver

Elle

Is it even possible to save me anymore? Everyone might know that Nico gets a bit … rough with me now, but he's still my boyfriend. I still love him. And I think that he cares about me, somewhere deep down. Or maybe I'm just confused. My head hurts just trying to figure everything out.

I want to leave Nico, but I want him to love me, too. I can't have both. It's a matter of what I think is more important: my life and happiness, or his love. Honestly, I don't know which one is more important. I mean, Nico has become my life, which scares me. What would I do for him? Why do I even care about him?

Why can't I break up with him the way my mind tells me I should?

Thus is the difficulty of humanity. Which to follow: the heart or the mind. My heart says to stay. My mind says to leave. My heart loves Nico and justifies his actions. My mind uses logic against me, reminds me that it's … it's abuse.

It's abuse.

I'm being abused.

Nico is abusing me.

And I don't know what to do about it.

Monday, October 26

I woke up early, head pounding, probably due to stress and from crying so much. To make matters worse, my entire body ached. It took me three tries to get myself out of bed. I bit my lip to prevent any sound from escaping. I took a long shower. Afterwards, I took a deep breath and stared into the bathroom mirror, this time with different eyes than before.

I choked back a sob. I couldn't even recognize myself. I had bruises around my neck and one on the side of my face – that one was smaller and less noticeable; Nico probably knew marking up my face too much would arouse suspicion.

I stood on tiptoes to see a little further. More bruises. I turned a little. The cut on my shoulder was still there, but at least it was healing. I looked down at my body. Bruises, bruises, bruises, and a cut on my hand.

I closed my eyes but the images remained. I blindly reached for a towel and covered myself with it. I slid down the wall onto the tile floor, tears slipping down my nose. I held a hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my sobs.

I didn't know how long I sat there bawling my eyes out. But eventually, I heard a knock on the bathroom door. I was crying too hard to reply so I hid my face in my knees.

"Elle?" I heard Bruce call through the door. I didn't answer.

The door opened. I heard Bruce step towards me carefully, hesitantly. I was embarrassed to be caught crying, clothed only in a towel, on the bathroom floor, with all of my bruises and cuts showing.

I flinched when Bruce put a hand on my shoulder. When had he knelt beside me? I didn't relax. I just continued to cry.

After several minutes of silence, I lifted my head and stared at the wall in front of me. "Why does he do it?" I asked, voice cracking. I turned to Bruce. "What did I do wrong?"

"It isn't you," Bruce said harshly, narrowing his eyes. I flinched. He finally dropped his hand from my shoulder as he sighed. "No matter what happened, or what happens," Bruce said, calmly this time, "it will never be your fault."

I hiccupped. "I'm sorry," I said pathetically before throwing myself into his arms. It took Bruce a moment, but he eventually wrapped his arms around me in a hug. I cried some more into his – nice, expensive – shirt.

"I'm sorry," I repeated after I'd finally calmed down.

Bruce rubbed my back gently. I flinched a bit but quickly got over it. "Don't be." I pulled away. "You're not going to school today," Bruce told me. I didn't have it in me to argue. "Do you want Alfred to bring you breakfast in bed?"

I wanted to say yes, but I knew that I had to face Dick and Tim at some point. "No thanks. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Bruce nodded and stood up. "I have a meeting," he said. "So I won't be at breakfast."

"Okay."

Bruce helped me stand up. "I'll try to be home this afternoon."

"Okay."

"And don't go anywhere near the boy who did this to you," Bruce's tone darkened.

I winced. "Okay."

Bruce hesitated before leaning forward and kissing me on my forehead. I blinked in surprise, too shocked to even move.

"I'm sorry I never noticed," Bruce told me. "And I think a part of that is because I'm not around as much as I'd like to be. But things are going to change. I promise."

I nodded, grinning slightly. "You don't have to apologize, but thanks."

"I still don't know very much about you," Bruce said, shaking his head. "And I'm not around enough to find out."

I tilted my head. "I'm a secretive person. It's not your fault."

Bruce didn't answer. He went into my bedroom. I followed, holding my towel to keep it from falling. He took a long look around. He sort of reminded me of Sherlock Holmes, deducing everything.

"You like reading science fiction and dystopias," Bruce said, more to himself than to me. He picked up a few of my CDs. "Superchick, Pink, Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift." He trailed off. "Artists who generally inspire their listeners to be themselves." He glanced at the country CDs. "And love." I blushed but didn't disagree.

He moved to my nightstand, where my laptop, cell phone, and iPod were. He looked at my bed. "Your favorite color is purple." He looked at the pillow. "Although I'm guessing red is a close second." He looked over at me and I nodded, encouraging him to continue. This was interesting, amusing, and a little nerve-wracking all at the same time.

"I'm guessing this was a gift from …?" he pointed at the teddy bear that was still on the floor.

I nodded slowly. "I don't like stuffed bears that much, though," I admitted. "Fun fact of the day: my favorite animals are cuttlefish and turtles."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment. He headed towards my bedroom door. "I've got to go," he told me. "But we can talk more later."

I smiled. Then, taking a chance, I said, "I'll hold you to it." I liked being able to talk more, being able to express myself a little more. It gave me more control. And it made me feel … more alive.

Bruce chuckled and left. I closed the door and got dressed in sweatpants, a tank top, and a hoodie. I wanted to put on socks and apply cover-up to my face, but I had to get over it. By hiding the bruises, I hid the abuse. And while I did cover the rest of my body up, I figured that I could be more comfortable doing things in steps. Very small baby steps.

It took me a while to get down the stairs due to the pain, but I finally managed to do so. I headed to the kitchen, where Tim and Dick were already eating. They stopped when they saw me. I shifted uncomfortably as they outright stared at my face.

"Miss Elle, would you like some waffles?" Alfred asked, breaking the awkward silence.

I grinned nervously. "Just cereal. And a piece of toast? Please?" Simple is what I needed.

Alfred nodded. "Of course. Any cereal in particular you'd care for?"

"I can get it myself, thanks," I told him. I went over to the cabinet and poured myself a bowl of mini wheats while Alfred got my toast.

I sat at the table and began eating, ignoring how Tim and Dick still watched my every move. Finally, I sighed.

"I'm not going to break." Again, I added mentally. "You can talk." Please?

"Sorry, it's just," Tim hesitated before asking incredulously, "Did he choke you?"

I adjusted the hoodie so those bruises weren't visible. That should be answer enough.

"How are you?" Dick asked me. "And don't say fine."

I took another bite of cereal before speaking. "Tired. In pain. Sad. Angry. Frustrated. Confused. Need I go on?"

"Talk to us," Tim said. "What are you thinking?"

"Let us help," Dick pleaded quietly.

I finished off my cereal and thanked Alfred when he placed a piece of toast in front of me. I spread butter and then grape jam onto it and took a bite before answering Tim's question.

"I'm thinking that I'm stupid," I said slowly, staring down at my plate. I cut off any protests the boys were about to make. "I let him get close. I don't just do that. And then I fell in love with him. And then I was too weak to stop him from hitting me and was – am – too scared to leave. I'm stupid because I didn't ask for help and because I didn't listen to this girl who tried to help me."

"Elle," Dick whispered sadly.

"I don't know why I'm sad. I'm tired of trying to get through this. I'm angry at him and at Jasmine and at everyone, really, but I don't know why. I'm frustrated and confused because I want to leave Nico but a part of me still believes that I can make him happy again."

"Nothing you do is going to make him happy," Dick said softly. "He'll always find something to criticize, find some excuse to hit you."

"But I love him," I said, eyes watering. "I don't know how to let go."

I pushed away the rest of my breakfast, not hungry anymore.

"I think you will find that this will help you immensely with the pain," Alfred said, handing me a bottle of ibuprofen. I took two tablets before returning the rest to Alfred.

"The first thing you need to do is delete him from your phone," Tim said.

"My phone's upstairs," I replied.

"Then let's go," Tim stood up.

Dick stood as well, and looked at me. "We'll be with you every step of the way."

"Indeed we will," Alfred agreed.

I looked at the three of them before slowly getting up. Much to my embarrassment, Dick carried me up the stairs. Once in my room, I grabbed my phone. I had a few new texts from Nico. I bit my lip.

"Don't even look at them," Tim ordered, somehow knowing.

I deleted all of the messages between Nico and I. It took me a few moments, but I finally managed to delete him from my contacts.

"Let me see that," Tim said. I handed him my phone. He fiddled around a bit before handing it back to me. "I blocked him from sending new messages."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You can do that?"

Tim shrugged. "I did."

"Next," Dick interrupted. He'd slipped out and gotten a trash bag. "Throw out anything of his."

I bent down and picked up the teddy bear. My eyes watered but I managed to throw it into the bag, along with Nico's jacket and the necklace he'd gotten me. A few little things he'd gotten me before he'd started hitting me – a shirt, a bandana, a painting – all were thrown away.

I laughed to myself. I could feel that I was slowly freeing myself from Nico. And it felt good.

Alfred took the bag outside before starting the car. Tim ran to get his backpack and then left for school, even though he'd already missed the first three classes. Dick turned to me and gave me a hug, ignoring my flinch.

"It will get better," he told me gently.

"I know," I said, even though I didn't know, but I trusted that my family would help me.

"And if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm willing to listen," Dick said seriously. "No matter what time it is. Day or night. No matter which job I'm working. I want you to call."

I nodded. "Okay."

Dick left soon after that. That was when I remembered that Jason wanted to teach me more target practice. I put on my sneakers, grabbed my phone, left a note for Alfred, and then started the long walk to Jason's apartment.

Jason rose an eyebrow when he opened the door. "Don't you have school, kid?" he asked, although I noticed that he eyes the small bruise on my face and the slightly visible bruise on my neck. I readjusted my hoodie again.

"You said not to be late," I replied lightly.

Jason rubbed a hand on his face before grabbing our helmets. We sped over to our target practice area. I practiced shooting a gun, throwing knives, and stabbing methods. Afterwards, Jason and I sparred. At first, it was difficult because I kept flinching and ducking and backing away. But as time went on, I was slowly able to ignore my instincts and fight back.

A few hours passed before my already-sore body couldn't take anymore. Jason bought me McDonalds and we spent an hour in the park, just hanging out and talking.

I hadn't even realized that school had ended for the day until Nico showed up.

"You fucking bitch!" Nico shouted. I stood up on instinct, eyes wide.

"Nico –"

"Oh, so this is the abusive son of a bitch," Jason said, standing up from the bench as well.

"Keep out of this," Nico snapped. To me, he demanded, "Is he your fuck buddy? Always knew you were a slut."

Jason promptly punched Nico in the jaw. Nico, clearly not expecting it, stumbled back a few steps.

"You don't talk to a woman like that," Jason said, tensed up and ready for a fight.

Nico shook off his surprise and tried to hit Jason. Jason grabbed Nico's arm and twisted it. He used his other hand to punch Nico in the stomach. I just stood there, my mind not quite processing what was happening, but oh-so-glad that Jason was there.

"What?" Jason asked angrily. "You can't take a punch?"

"Nico," I interrupted to prevent a full-out brawl from taking place. I took a breath. I reminded myself that Jason was there and would prevent Nico from hurting me. "We're through."

Nico pulled away from Jason. "I told you. No one breaks up with me."

I did my best to glare at him. I didn't think it worked out, though. I was still frightened. "Well, I am."

"Listen here, bitch –"

This time, it was me who punched his face. And it felt good. Like, really, really good.

"Don't talk to me like that," I said. I took a step back. "We're done."

Nico was about to respond, but Jason glared at him. Nico huffed and stomped off. I released my breath. Jason turned to me.

"Not bad, kid," he said. "Probably broke his nose."

I grinned. "Thanks. I was terrified, though."

"The best way to get over your fear is to face it head-on," Jason told me. "So what d'ya say? Think Cougar should make an appearance tomorrow night?"

I grinned wider. "Are you serious?" I asked excitedly.

Jason chuckled, which surprised me to no end. "Come by my place around 6-ish. We'll get you an outfit and then head out. Sound good?"

"Yeah," I said a little breathlessly. Maybe it was too soon, but I wanted to help people. I wanted control. I wanted to be out there doing something. I couldn't wait.

Jason dropped me off at the library. I started my walk back to Wayne Manor. As I walked, I called Jasmine.

"Hello?"

I took a breath. "Hey. It's Elle. I just … wanted to apologize."

"Don't," Jasmine said. "Just, don't. You don't need to apologize. I've been there."

"Yeah, but still."

"Do you want to hang out sometime?" she asked. "You can spill your feelings or whatever in person. Much better than over the phone. Trust me."

"Sure. I'll see you in school tomorrow. We can talk then."

"Sounds great. Bye."

I ended the call just as I made it to the manor. I helped Alfred make dinner. After the meal, Bruce, Tim, and I played Scrabble, and then Mario Kart. We watched a movie, which ended at 11:00.

"Why don't you let people get close to you?" Tim asked me. I was barely staying awake.

"Mostly 'cause I'm shy," I said, resting my head on Tim's shoulder. "I'm afraid of what people think of me. I don't want them to make fun of me for who I am or what I like. Or don't like." I yawned.

"We won't laugh at you," Bruce told me. "We just want to get to know you more."

I laughed quietly. "You already had the fun fact of the day."

"What was the fun fact?" Tim asked.

I yawned again, snuggling closer to Tim. "I don't like teddy bears and my favorite animals are turtles and cuttlefish."

"That's more than one," Tim teased.

I groaned. "Shut up," I whined.

"I think it's time for bed," Bruce chuckled. He lifted me up.

I struggled lightly, eyes closed and already falling asleep. "I can walk," I mumbled. Bruce ignored me and took me to my room.

"Good night," Bruce said, leaving the room and closing my door.

"'Night, Elle," Tim called through the door.

I didn't have any nightmares that night.