I'm hoping to get the next chapter up soon :)
Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter!

Chapter 9: Gradual Regaining

I gasped and my eyes flew open. I remembered something terrible had happened, but I couldn't quite think of what it was. Either way it didn't feel safe for me to be asleep.

"Everything's alright, Ms. Jayden. Relax and don't sit up, your body still has a lot of recovering to do," Alfred's voice said from a corner in my room.

It was then that all my memories of the last events came back to me. "Where's Bruce?" I asked Alfred as he came to stand next to me.

"I sent Master Bruce to get some rest. He wasn't going to be any help to you once you woke up in the distraught exhausted state he was in."

"How long have I been asleep," I asked quietly, finally allowing myself to fully relax into my bed.

"It's been over eighteen hours since you were brought home in this state, and Master Bruce hasn't been getting any sleep before that as it was," Alfred answered calmly. "We are just both glad you should make a full recovery. Are you in any pain?"

I took this chance to mentally examine my body. I could feel a thick bandage wrapped around my thigh covering the stinging deep cut. My finger was in a splint holding it still and it were very achy. But it was my chest and belly that was making me feel a little nauseous that had probably woken my up in the first place. I could tell there was some kind of thin bandage covering it under the sheet. "No, I'm fine," I lied.

Alfred looked at me closely. "I'll get you some pain medication," he said firmly.

I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. Everything was still and quiet in my room. I felt comfortable here, and I was very glad to be able to rest in bed for a while. I just wished I could get the vague feeling that I was still somehow unsafe to go away. I pulled away the sheet and looked at the thin loose bandage covering my burn. I hadn't seen it after my father turned off the blow torch and I was curious what it looked like now. With slightly trembling fingers I began to lift the bandage away.

The door opened, "Don't touch those. Your burn needs to heel." It wasn't Alfred that came back with the pain meds. It was Bruce. My heart leapt at the sight of him, since I had been secretly wishing it was him that would be with me when I woke up. It wasn't that I didn't love Alfred, but Bruce was the one who could really make me feel safe, and at the moment I mostly wanted to feel safe.

"I'm just curious about what the burn looks like," I said, but replaced my sheet anyway. It wasn't worth looking at the moment.

"You don't need to see it," he said firmly. "Here take this, it will help keep you comfortable." He handed me a couple pills and a cup of water.

I took them and drank all the water, realizing how dry my mouth was. The I looked at Bruce, and saw how tired he really looked. "I'm sorry," I mumbled quietly. "I wasn't strong enough, I gave my parents the satisfaction of breaking me down."

"Jayden," he said quickly, coming closer to my side. "You were very strong and impressive, and you did not let your parents win. Even after what they did to you, you still had the strength to warn me about your mother's escape and you had the strength to not go back to them. How could you possibly think that wasn't enough?"

A few tears ran down my face. "Because I let them see me cry, and I showed weakness. You've been the only person to see me cry, since before that day I never allowed anyone to see me weak like that, not even my parents. Even after all that training. I'm supposed to be one of the best at being able to hide my emotions. I feel like I let you down, and I couldn't keep myself safe."

I felt his warm finger gently catch my tears, and his hand caress my sticky hair. "It's me that feels like I let you down," he said quietly. "You can't imagine what it did to me to hear you scream and see your fa- Spartan raise that crowbar to you. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

We were both silent for a little while as we both regained control of our emotions. I took a little longer than Bruce to feel ready to speak again. Visions and memories and my parents' attempts to break me were very vivid in my mind. I could feel his hand still removing tears and hair from my face, and I used the comforting feel of it to ground my emotions again and bring my mind back to the present. Every time I looked into his face he looked strong, confident, and focused, and his steadiness helped me relax again more than anything.

I lifted my good hand and placed it on his hand where he was still combing his fingers through my hair. I held onto it and moved it lower down to where it was more comfortable to rest my hand. "You knew my father had escaped Arkham, and that's what you were doing those days you weren't home," I said. It wasn't a question, because I was sure I was right.

"Yes, and if I had been honest with you about that, maybe you wouldn't have used that costume and done something so reckless. I'm sure those times outside of school are how your parents found you, and I am partially to blame for that." He looked out my window, then back into my face. "But you were keeping secretes of your own," he said firmly.

I nodded, knowing I should have told him I had known my parents had been watching me. If I had told him, I could have stayed home from school until they were caught.

"You can't hide important things like that from me anymore. It is important that you are very honest. Please promise me you will."

I silently nodded my promise. The medications were now making me feel very sleepy. But the pain was gone, so the sleepiness was worth it. My eye lids began to droop, and I had a sudden vision of the crowbar held high into the air. It was swung towards me and I jumped and opened my eyes.

I took a sigh of relief to see Bruce was still there, looking concerned. "Will you stay with me?" I asked softly.

"Of course I will stay a while," he said calmly. "But I can't stay in here forever. I can promise that either Alfred or I will be here at all times for the next few days in case you need something"

This time I closed my eyes and focused on Bruce's presence nearby. Visions of Batman standing in front of me and protecting me filled my dreams.

Each day got a little better than the one before. I gradually needed less and less pain medication to keep me comfortable, and after three days I was able to sit up slightly to read and eat more easily. I didn't have to worry about school for the last week that remained of the school year. My teachers were all told I had fallen dangerously ill, and since I had such high grades and was only in sixth grade, they didn't worry about me taking finals. I passed all my classes, and Bruce of course took the opportunity to remind me how that was why it was only one reason it was important to do well in school.

After one week I was begging to get out of my room for a change of scenery. Bruce gave in on the condition that he would carry me downstairs so I wouldn't disturb my burn by walking. It felt really childish to have him cradle and carry me, but it was worth it to get out of my room.

Alfred and probably Bruce had been changing my bandages and putting ointment on my burn while I was asleep. But after ten days I was allowed to see the damage for the first time. My cut was about a centimeter thick and a little under a foot long of bright shiny scabbing. It looked clean and healthy though so the sight of it didn't bother me much. I had to insist I was ready to see my burn, and the sight of it made me feel light headed. It took up most of my chest with a small area on my belly in a shape that resembled a curved upside down triangle. My skin was bright red with some black patches and a wrinkled texture that reminded me of wet leather. Much of the area was also peeling, and it made me feel sick. But I had to hide my discomfort of seeing it after I had promised I could handle it. I didn't think I convinced either Bruce or Alfred that it hadn't bothered me to look though.

After two weeks my burn had peeled enough and I felt good enough to walk for the first time. I was still emotionally and physically tired, and it worried me that I would be way behind on my training. I would get easily sad and still didn't like to be left alone. A couple times I had even had nightmares filled with my parents and my screams in my dreams would become real. Bruce would then come into my room and stay with me until I fell asleep again. This only made me feel worse in the end, because to me it showed just how weak I had become.

Finally, in the middle of July, my burn had completely peeled and only a pale sore scar remained. Alfred's treatments had really been effective. My finger was still in a splint, and I had a long pink slightly painful scar on my leg, but otherwise I was feeling pretty good. Bruce agreed to let me gently resume some training, as long as I was careful with my finger and hand. Returning to some training was one thing that really helped me feel better emotionally, and after this my nightmares had eased away. I still hadn't quite regained my old energy and confidence yet.

By the end of summer my finger was heeled as well and I was able to return to a more complete training schedule. I was happy to discover I hadn't fallen behind quite as much as I feared, and felt confident I could be back to where I left off in a month or two if I really set my mind to it. This knowledge helped me emotionally recover even more so I was to the point where I didn't feel clingy or nervous anymore.

It wasn't until school started again that my emotions and confidence finally fully made a recovery. I had my first gymnastics practice, but I decided to skip it and slip outside the school. I swiftly climbed the building and found Nightwing in his usual spot, where I knew he would be.

"Hey Little Nightmare," he said with a smile. I could see the questions and concern in his eyes. "I thought I might see you during recess."

"Seventh graders don't get a recess outside, so I skipped gymnastics instead," I said coming to sit next to him. "I won't be able to skip gymnastics every practice and get away with it, but Coach Mason doesn't care much when someone doesn't show up. This way I can be waiting for when Alfred or Bruce come to pick me up."

"How are you doing," he asked without waiting. He didn't even look at me, and it was this lack of pushiness in his question that made it easier to answer honestly.

"I feel a lot better, but I still don't quite feel like myself. That night, wherever I was, has left me feeling emotionally tired and I don't have the confidence I used to. I feel like I failed that night, and they won." I stared at my newly healed finger and made a fist. Admitting that made me feel angry at myself for still being so weak. I had learned it should never be acceptable to be weak.

Nightwing looked at me closely for a few long moments, and I tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. "If this has something to do with your life growing up, you need to let it go. Trust me, I know how old memories can effect you. I now know it was your own parents who were after you, and whatever they have brainwashed into you about being strong or weak is them trying to control you. You are very strong mentally emotionally and physically, and you need to understand that on your own without other people telling you what makes a strong or weak person."

I looked away, realizing Nightwing's words were very similar to Batman's the night I decided to distrust my parents. We were both quiet for a long time as I let his words sink in.

"There is also something that bothers me about what your parents have taught you," Nightwing continued softly. I looked at him again to see him looking at the distant building and frowning slightly. "It seems you have an ability to manipulate others from them. We are supposed to be a team and Bruce did have your mother taken care of. It would have been better if you had let me stay with you, and more than that, it is not a very good thing to use those particular skills. Those manipulation and control tactics are used by people like your parents."

"What are you saying manipulation is not in the good guy hand book?" I said sarcastically. I was annoyed, because this also reminded me of Bruce the first night I began living with him.

"I don't know if I would put it that way, but no. It's best to fight fair, especially if those you're manipulating are on the good side too." Nightwing smiled slightly at me, "I think you should write the good guy handbook for me, and then we can show it to Bruce. I think he needs to learn some things."

I snorted. "Yeah you could say that. Talk about me controlling and manipulating people."

"That would be why some good people in Gotham see Batman as a bad guy," Nightwing said lightly.

I nodded and thought about things I had even heard in school where my classmates had even questioned Batman's motives.

Nightwing suddenly spoke again, "It was a library by the way."

"What?" I asked looking away from my feet to star at him.

He looked at me too. "Where you were taken that night, it was the basement of an old library. I had known something was wrong right away, and I informed Alfred so he could tell Bruce, then I quietly and secretly followed him while he tracked you down. Thankfully I don't think he ever realized I was there with how distracted he was with his concern for you."

"Wait, you still haven't seen Bruce? Even after all that happened that night?" I hadn't even thought about the possibility that Bruce never saw Nightwing that night.

"Batman and I don't exactly see eye to eye anymore. Just as I don't agree with you manipulating others, I don't like it when he does it either. I haven't wanted to see him since I left him."

"Well that's Batman," I argued. "Wouldn't you at least like to see Bruce again. He did raise you." It was such a sad thought to me that Dick had always tried so hard to avoid Bruce. "Have you seen him at all since you left?"

"A little," Nightwing sighed. "But not in a few years now. Bruce is so stubborn, and wants everything to be exactly his way, I guess it didn't work out for me to get along with him," he said after some hesitation. "We got in a fight years ago, and that's when I quit being Robin, and we haven't talked much since."

"Oh," I said sadly. "I hope that doesn't happen with me. I'll just have to learn to deal with Bruce's stubbornness."

"You say that now, but let's see how you feel in a few more years," he said wryly.

"Yes, we'll see. I'll become a more loyal and devoted sidekick than you," I said with a smirk.

"You not even allowed to be his sidekick," he retorted.

"Not yet, but even you said I will eventually. Just wait, I'll get him to let me," I said confidently.

When I climbed back down the building after two hours with Nightwing, I felt better than I had in a long time. My time spent with him was what helped me regain the rest of my confidence and emotional and spiritual health