A/n: Sorry for the ultra long delay, ugh I am the worst

This chapter is mostly pieces of Hannah's various memories in the Wayne manor. Enjoy~

I DIDN'T PROOF READ THIS FOR MISTAKES. IT'S LIKE 2:30 AM. I CAN'T EVEN SEE THE LETTERS ANYMORE. FORGIVE ANY MISTAKESSSSSSS

"The Covenant"

Chapter 22: Memories

GOTHAM CITY

SEPTEMBER 13, 18:44 EDT

Hannah took in a deep sigh as she readied herself for the endeavor before her. The manor in front of her hadn't changed much since she visited last. Grigor on her shoulder cawed in her ear, giving her courage. She walked up to the front door and rang, waiting to be greeted.

The door creaked open and Hannah was greeted by a familiar, stoic face of the Wayne manor butler "Ah, young miss, good to see you." The older man chimed, moving to the side to let her in "Come in, master Bruce had been expecting you." Hannah looked up at him, putting on a smile (she hoped it hadn't looked too forced) and walked in, a small duffel bag secured tightly in her grip. "May I take your luggage?"

She quickly nodded and held out the duffel bag "Thank you, Alfred."

"Master Bruce should be in the library. He has expected you to come sooner, using the zeta-beams."

"I had some prior commitments. And I decided to take a more old-fashioned route. I'm sure he won't mind." Hannah explained, walking a few steps behind Alfred. "I hope you don't mind if leave you for the time being while I go see him, Alfred."

"Of course not, young miss. You know where the library is." And with that, Alfred continued on his way and Hannah stayed behind, watching his figure retreat in to the spacious halls of the Wayne Manor. For the umpteenth time that day, the girl let out an exhausted sigh, before finally forcing herself to thread the familiar hallways that led to the library.

Her memory served her well, despite the fact that she hadn't visited in so long, so she had arrived to her desired destination in no time. Though, she had to admit, it took her shamefully long to force herself to even consider going inside.

She didn't want to face Bruce.

Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles against the door, not waiting for a response as she let herself inside. As she walked in, she saw Bruce Wayne, sitting in a lounge chair and engrossed in a book. Though, as soon as she let her presence be known, his eyes were instantly at her, cold and calculating, analyzing. He did that with everyone, and Hannah never got used to it.

"I see you finally made it." He spoke up and closed his book, his thumb between the pages to mark where he stopped. The book still in his hand, he swayed it in the direction of the lounge chair across of him "Have a seat, Hannah."

Hannah did as she was told. When the Batman tells you to do something, you do it. She quickly made her way to the seat, covering the area quickly in a few long strides, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. Grigor bounced from her shoulder and on to the back of the chair, watching over both Hannah and Bruce. As she made herself comfortable in her seat (or, as close to comfy as she could, seeing as her entire body was unnaturally tense), the girl looked up at the man in front of her once again, only to find him reading through the last few paragraphs of the book he had in his possession. Thus, leaving her to wallow in the uncomfortable silence and the feeling of the impending conversation she had been dreading.

Trying to calm herself down while Bruce finished the paragraph of the book he was reading (Hannah couldn't make out the title from how he was holding it), she looked around the library, letting the soothing memories of how she spent every day in them flow in to her mind. She would devour up to a dozen books a day, being very adept at fast reading. Often, she would be interrupted by Alfred, who would find her lying on the floor surrounded by books. He'd tut in annoyance before ordering her to come down for dinner, having already missed a meal that day.

Bruce never spent that much time with her, but she didn't mind. She was grateful enough for what he had done for her, for taking her in. The sole feeling of knowing he was there was enough for her. Even the anger she held inside of her when he resigned her to Zatara had turned in to nothing than a bitter aftertaste in her mouth, dissolving until the betrayal was just a memory.

Her mind snapped back to reality as her eyes caught signs of movement from the man across of her. He flipped a page and neatly placed a bookmark, making sure not to forget his place. As he put the book away on the little table next to his seat, he turned to Hannah, his mouth opening to form words.

"You should have let me go with the team." Hannah interrupted him before any noise left him, taking him off guard. Bruce seemed startled for a moment, not expecting her to speak before him, but soon recomposed himself.

"The team will handle themselves fine." He spoke, resting his elbows on his knees "You, on the other hand, don't seem to be doing the same."

Hannah clenched her hands in to fists, the corners of her lips twitching down "I am doing fine. Everything is fine. There is no problem in how I handle myself."

"You had a night terror that influenced your actions in the real world, and endangered your team mates." Bruce's voice cut through the room harshly "You are not fine."

The young witch bit her bottom lip, pain shooting up instantly from it as it warned her she was close to breaking skin. Her eyes narrowed in to a deep frown and her fists clenched harder as she looked down on them, neatly placed on her lap.

"I am doing f-" she hiccupped and cleared her throat, chocking back the urge to start crying. Bringing herself back from the brink of breaking down, she straightened up, her chin held high "I am doing better." Her voice wavered as she tried to sound strong "The night terrors are rare now." She took in a deep breath to calm herself down "They almost completely stopped, until…"

Sensing her hesitation, Bruce continued for her "Until the death of Kent Nelson. Am I correct?"

Hannah slouched her shoulders forward, looking smaller than before "It…it's only natural, right?" she let out a dry laugh "That such trauma would bring back old ones? I'll get over it."

As she finished, Bruce let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in both annoyance and as a calming method. "Your methods of dealing with trauma are clearly not effective…"

"Not all of us deal with problems by dressing up and becoming vigilantes." The girl replied in dry wit, earning a harsh glare from Bruce "I'm just saying. We all have different methods on how to deal with emotionally crippling events. You have your way, Dick accepted your way and that's fine. I, on the other hand, do not." She got up from her seat; her arms crossed "I deal by being surrounded by people. I deal by doing things with people. And I don't see how you separating me from the team and letting them go on a mission without me is helpful!"

"That is exactly the reason why I had you come here." Bruce got up as well, taking steps towards the girl. Hannah raised her eyebrows, not quite catching on to what he was trying to say. "Going on missions is another stress that may add to your current state. One of the reasons that bring about to you having night terrors." He put his hands on her shoulders, offering an almost parental comfort. "Spending the next few days in the manor, with me and Alfred, it may help you unwind and gather your thoughts. Perhaps I should have done this sooner; perhaps thrusting you in to the team so soon after Kent's death was a mistake."

Hannah nodded mutely, not sure how to respond.

"You will always have a home here. Remember that."

Bruce, Hannah concluded, had a good point. But that didn't mean that she still didn't hold a grudge for the temporary living arrangements she was thrust in. As things were, she was currently walking around the many halls of the manor, with no real purpose, just exploring and reminiscing. This place, after all, held many memories for her. She reached out her hand and let the tips of her fingers trace against the wall as she passed it, taking in the texture. She let her eyes drift closed for a few moments, taking in a deep breath. The manor always smelled clean, but there was that very faint scent that only old buildings had. Musky, the smell of fine dust on old books, and with a hint of the cologne that Bruce used; the house held his scent, after all.

As her eyelids fluttered open, she took in the rays of the setting sun coming through the windows, washing the hallway in golden rays. Hannah let her hand drop from the walls and in a few strides made her way towards one of the many windows across from it.

Leaning her shoulder against the windows frame, she crossed her arms and gazed outside.

A lazy September day, nearing its end. Autumn already making its way to Gotham at a slow pace, making the weather chillier. It was so similar to the day she got here…

She could almost see the memories replay before her. The memory was so vivid to her as she observed the front yard and the path going up to the main entrance of Wayne Manor.

GOTHAM CITY

Around ten years ago

The six-year-old looked up to the man holding her hand. He seemed so big. So very big! With his broad shoulders and tall physique, and that dark suit only made him stand out even more, his form towering over her. But he held her hand so gently, it made her feel much safer. And the alert young crow that she held with her free arm spoke to her gently, calming her.

"This is your new home, Hannah." The man spoke. What was his name again? She remembered himself introducing himself to her a few days before, when they first met, but the name escaped her.

Butch? Brook? She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember.

Noticing her lack of response, the man squeezed her hand reassuringly before leading her to the main entrance of the manor. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by another man

"Good afternoon, Master Bruce." Bruce! That's right! His name was Bruce, Hannah proudly noted. She knew she was close!

"Alfred, I would like you to meet Hannah." Bruce introduced, using his free hand to gesture at the girl attached to his arm "She will be staying with us from now on."

Hannah only took notice of the man named Alfred when he turned his attention to her "Ah, little miss Hannah. I have heard much about you from Master Bruce. I hope your stay with us is an enjoyable one."

The two men waited, hoping for a response. But they didn't get any significant one. The girl just stood there, attached to Bruce's arm, her big eyes glued and unblinking on Alfred as she studied him. She didn't speak, she didn't move. She just stared.

"She…" Bruce started, having some trouble looking away from her eyes "…doesn't talk. I mean, she can talk but…she had stopped conversing with anyone by the time I had met her."

Alfred raised his eyebrows, surprised "Oh." He seemed as if he was sorrowful. He turned back to the girl "Well…come now, little miss. Would you like me to show you your room?"

The girl stared at him motionlessly for a few more moments, before hesitatingly detaching herself from Bruce. Mutely, she held out her tinny hand to Alfred, her eyes giving him a silent order to take it.

She offered the smallest hint of a smile when he did so.

GOTHAM CITY

PRESENT DAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 19:20 EDT

"Ah, there you are, young miss." Hannah was awoken from her daze. She quickly looked towards the person speaking to her, smiling brightly upon seeing Alfred. "I trust you and master Bruce have finished up your chat?"

She nodded "Yes Alfred. Where will I be staying while I am here?"

"I would think that your old room would work just fine." He informed and his lips turned up in a smile "I trust you remember where it is?"

Hannah giggled "I think I remember, buut~" she walked up next to Alfred "I would love it more if you showed me the way, just to make sure I don't get lost."

Alfred couldn't help but chuckle himself "I suppose it would be for the best, you always did have a habit of getting lost in the manor."

GOTHAM CITY

Around ten years ago

The tinny patter of feet could barely be heard as Hannah walked down the carpeted halls, trying to find her way to her room. She had woken up from a bad dream and had tried to find Bruce's room, but when she realized she couldn't, she tried going back to her own room. But, to no avail; she was hopelessly lost. Grigor sat on her shoulder, annoyed and definitely not helping at all with getting them any less lost.

She held one of her hands out, a glowing violet orb shining dimly and helping her find her way through the dark halls. Everything looked the same! Why did this house have to be so damn big!?

"…the most bizarre thing they have seen."

Hannah's eyes lit up when she heard the familiar voice. She quickly made her way in the direction she heard it, the room where the voice was coming from coming in to view in no time. She slowed down when she was near it, taking small steps and listening to what he was talking to exactly. The crow on her shoulder almost let out a small sound, curious as to what she was doing, but Hannah shushed him by putting a finger to his beak before he did so.

"She held out her hand over the English text book they had given and the pages started turning at an amazing speed, by themselves. When the book reached its end, Hannah turned to one of the investigators and spoke fluid English." Bruce was explaining to someone "She had no prior knowledge of the language; the doctors and investigators who were questioning her had problems communicating with her and tried to use children books to teach her the basics of English."

"When she did learn the basics of English, what exactly had she told the investigators?" an unfamiliar voice questioned.

"Nothing of value." Bruce sighed "She told them her name, which is probably not her real name; it's not a native name to her country. Trying to lull her in to a sense of security, they asked her simple questions about her likes, her dislikes. But, as soon as any questions regarding her family, or what happened in her village, arose, she went quiet. At one point, they tried to separate her from her crow, as she was talking more to it than to the investigators. This caused her to go on a rampage. She started screaming uncontrollably. The anger came off her in waves, distorting the room and breaking objects, causing electrical devices to malfunction. She only calmed down when the crow was back in her arms."

"Distorting the room? What could even do that?"

"I don't know…" Bruce paused "…after this incident, she stopped talking completely. Three of the investigators working on her case that were near her when she had this tantrum had quit the case, not wanting to get near her again."Yet another sigh from Bruce. "I do not know what she is, Clark. When I heard about this peculiar case, I knew I had to look in to it. An entire village, wiped out, with only one survivor. Even with the entire country being at war, having a village, complete with buildings, completely erased as if it had never existed, out of the ordinary."

A startled gasp "She was the only survivor?"

"She and her crow were the only living things in a fifty mile radius, in the epicenter of the dead zone."

Hannah could feel her chest tighten, the memories still blocked out from her childish mind. Hearing the two men speak about that day made her anxious, she had trouble breathing for a moment as her subconscious tried its best to keep those memories from surfacing. She quickly put out the tiny ball of light and ran in to the room "Bruce!"

The two men in the room both turned around at the girls' voice. The child ran past the unfamiliar man and latched on to Bruce's waist "Hannah? What is it, what's wrong?"

"Dream…" she muttered, eyes closed tightly "…bad."

"You had a bad dream?" the girl nodded frantically and Bruce's features softened up. He picked her up with ease, the child still hiding her face (now by nuzzling it in his shoulders), and the crow flying up and landing on his shoulder. He turned to his guest who was now already in front of them.

The man, now Hannah knew his name was Clark, smiled broadly "Well you must be Hannah. I heard so much about you. What could a little trooper like you be scared of? You seem like you're completely fearless!"

Hannah lifted her head up enough to look at Clark, the man's smile instantly faltering at the cold gaze she was giving him. Bruce quickly turned just a bit, enough to force Hannah to break eye-contact "I'll be back in a few minutes Clark."

GOTHAM CITY

PRESENT DAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 20:30 EDT

A gentle knock on the door awoke Hannah from her sleep. Her eyes shot open, the ceiling above her so familiar, but it still felt off in her mind.

"Young miss." Alfred called from the other side of the door "It's time for dinner."

Ah. So that's where she was. She remembered now. Hannah let out a small groan and put a hand over her eyes. Sleep came to her amazingly fast, the silence not troubling her whatsoever. Then again, Grigor had taken on the habit of staying awake and chattering about nonsense in her head ever since she lost her music player (or, to be more accurate, since Klarion took it). For which, she was grateful. But it still bothered her that Grigor would stay up, no matter how long it would take her to fall asleep, and chit-chat. Birds needed their sleep, after all.

Speaking of Klarion…

Hannah sighed and stretched in the overly comfortable bed. Arching her back, she stretched out her arms in front of her. Her eyes lazily glazed over the ring he gave her; for some reason, it gave her comfort. She stopped taking it off all-together.

She hadn't seen him for a few days now…and as much as she hated to admit it, she wondered what he was up to.

As soon as she was informed of the fact that she was not to join her team on the mission in Minneapolis, the thought of her spending the free time with Klarion slithered in to her head. It was only when Bruce informed her that she was going to spend the duration of the mission in Wayne Manor did the irritation grow inside her. She felt ashamed that she was more upset over the fact that she wouldn't get the chance to spend time with him than the fact that she was declined to go on a mission.

"Young miss?"

Quickly sitting up, Hannah called back to the man waiting on the other side of the door "I'll be right down, Alfred!"

Dinner time at the Wayne manor were always so relaxing, Hannah mussed.

GOTHAM CITY

Around eight years ago

Dinner time at the Wayne manor was usually very quiet and calm. Whether Bruce was in or somewhere in Gotham doing the Batman thing, it was still a homey atmosphere either way. Hannah had grown accustomed to life there, taking much interest in reading the many books which were stowed away in the majestic library of the manor. She would spend the days reading or talking to Alfred, following him around as he preformed his daily duties. When Bruce was home, she would bother him as well. She would constantly ask her to take her on missions, most of which he declined. Though, sometimes he would cave in and would take her with him. Not on missions, per say, but mostly to see the world and explore. Hannah had somehow even managed Batman to take her to Atlantis, as she had read that they had a Conservatorium of Sorcery, which she was very interested in.

The more relaxed she became with the household, the more of her powers she would reveal. Bruce had already guessed as much about her powers, but it didn't leave him any less speechless when he saw a 6-year-old floating in front of him and giggling, before shooting up to hide in the extravagant chandelier.

But, as Hannah grew older, now already at age nine, she seemed to have started recollecting her memories which were locked away far in to the darkest crevices of her mind. It came to her in the forms of dreams, haunting her, causing her to weak up screaming and kicking, attacking anything close to her. She almost burned down her room once, her sleeping form using magic as her mind worked overtime.

Bruce didn't know what to do with her. Not only was her mind growing more frail as the night terrors stalked her in to the waking world, but her powers seemed to become stronger, and with that, more violent, more dangerous.

With such events coming in to place, he tried spending more time around her. At least to offer her some help, some comfort. She'd still smile, but she had grown a bit quieter than what he was used to for the past two and a half years. He noticed she had become more absent, her eyes staring off in to nothing as they did during the first few months she was with them.

He knew something was building up inside of her. There was no other option but to give her time to let it out at her own pace.

So, as dinner that night commenced as calm as it usually would, the last thing anyone expected to happen was Hannah finally breaking.

It started normal enough. Dinner was served, and Hannah offered a small smile and a thank you to Alfred, but other than that, stayed quiet. Bruce tried initiating some sort of conversation, anything, but she would reply with nothing more but grimaces, softly fidgeting in her seat.

But as time went on, she didn't touch the food on her plate. She just stared at it absently, her eyes glazed over, as if her mind wasn't really there.

Without warning, she suddenly started shaking, her hands flying up to her face. As Bruce called out her name, she started screaming.

And as she screamed, the world around her seemed to deform with her agony.

The walls creaked as they changed their size, the floor shook, the chairs and fine china shattered in to pieces and remained floating in the air. Bruce felt his chest tighten and pain and panic overtake him. It wasn't his own panic; it was Hannah's. She was projecting her emotions on to him. He couldn't breathe, only watch in horror as the girl shook in her chair, screaming and yelling. He could barely make out her words, as she spoke in her native tongue, but he could make out the words she was repeating over and over.

She begged for forgiveness, screaming for her mother to come back.

It took way too much effort to even move, Bruce noted. He held on to the edge of the table (as he too was floating in the air and gripping on to the table was the only way for him to keep his place) and used it to move closer to Hannah. His grip slipped a few times, leaving him hanging upside-down, his legs dangling above him.

"Hannah!" Bruce yelled, trying to somehow get to her, hoping his words will reach her "Hannah, stop! No one is angry at you! Nothing was your fault! It wasn't your fault!"

He, of course, had no way of knowing. And seeing of what she was capable of, he had suspicions that some of what happened in her home village was her fault. But he didn't care. Her screams hurt him, reminding him of the days that seemed like years after his parents were murdered, where he couldn't stop crying and screaming and begging the heavens for them to come back.

"Please, stop!" he reached out his arm towards her, but the child was still too far from his grasp.

But, as his pleads reached her ears, she suddenly froze. Her lips closed tight, and as soon as they did, Bruce felt himself falling. He managed to flip around and land on his feet, but still felt a bit off balance. His head was ringing, his chest still aching, and he was fighting off a wave of nausea that was coming at him like a storm, but at least this was better than hanging upside down in the air.

He snapped his head up, only to see the child with one of the knives in her hand. His eyes widened as she brought it closer to her head.

"Hannah, NO-"

Bruce's words fell short as he watched her bring the knife to the back of her head, using her free hand to tightly grab the elaborate braid she would make to keep her long hair out of her face. In a swift movement, she cut it off.

"I am Hannah." She muttered "There is no body else. I am Hannah."

Finally forcing himself to his feet, no matter how much his body protested, Bruce watched in awe as the room returned to its prior state. It was like watching a tape go in reverse, a fascinating sight to see. He stepped closer to Hannah, still unsure of how she would react to him "Hannah…"

"That is me." She suddenly let out a sob. Bruce already saw the tears forming anew in her eyes. She turned to him, holding out the long pigtail, her fist clenched so tightly it was shaking "I am no body else! I am not…I can't…" she threw the pigtail to the ground and ran in to Bruce's arm, her hands holding on to him for dear life. "I can't…I want to forget." She was shaking and sobbing "I have to forget. I can't do it anymore. I want the dreams to stop. I have to forget."

Bruce just let her hold on to him. For the first time since he took her in, he felt afraid of her.

Hannah was born in the Balkans during the Yugoslavia wars. She lived in a small, very rural village, near the borders of her country. I do not find it necessary to actually decide in which country she lived, because all of them had it pretty bad, and it would not matter.

What does matter is that Hannah is of Slavic decent. As such, girls would often grow their hair long, very long. Some would not cut it until after they were married. Usually, when they did cut it, it would represent them leaving the old them behind and joining a new family by marrying. They would also keep the hair they cut off, tied with red string, in special boxes.

Hannah cutting off her hair symbolizes herself trying to cut herself from her previous life, to cut away the events which haunt her dreams, and is her attempt to force herself to forget.

It is also said that hair had magical properties, and cutting it off would deprive a person from mental and physical health.

SORRY FOR NOT ANSWERING REVIEWS LIKE I SAID IT'S 2:30 AM AND I AM EXHAUSTED, PLEASE FORGIVE ME ORZ