A/N: Firstly: Thank you all so, so much for your support! I was honestly concerned that I'd get some flak for taking off, especially for religious reasons. When I looked in my inbox and saw all of your messages of support and encouragement I was overjoyed and moved to tears. Thank you all. Updates will still hopefully come, but they will either be shorter (like his chapter) or will be longer in the posting process.

Secondly, sorry about the last two chapters being so long. They were supposed to be all one chapter, but…that obviously didn't work out. If you have any questions please feel free to ask about them. Thanks for the reads and the reviews. *note: Sophia Golrino is an actual woman I found online who works for a ballet school. I changed her name and know nothing about her. Much love to my readers.

The sand was warm against her feet until it became dark with the ocean water. Where the sand looked like chocolate it was cooler, much cooler. The waves licked her feet and strands of lost seaweed. The evening was warm with a gentle breeze coming out from over the waves. The sunset was echoed on the chopping waves on the horizon.

She was walking towards their meeting place at the rocks. She needed to say goodbye to him. It was a sad night, but he said he was her friend so there was happiness too. She was excited to see him again. so much so she couldn't keep from running to the rocks.

But when she got to their meeting place, he wasn't there waiting. Breathless with excitement she looked around anxiously, determined to wait to see him. Timed passed quickly and she heard someone approaching behind her. She smiled and continued looking at the sea. It was so pretty. Finally she stood and slowly turned to meet her friend, excited to say goodbye one last time.

Turning around, she didn't find her friend. Turning around, she saw an evil face starring back at her with flaming eyes and a detesting scowl. She took a stunned step back; her foot plunged deep into the waters, soaking her clothes. It shouldn't have been that deep. She turned back to the ocean to look at what was going on; they were in the middle of the water, her feet were losing the solidity of the sand, she was losing her balance. Her hands began flailing around, reaching out for a hand to grab. There was none. The person stared on at her, his eyes glowering and hateful as he watched her sink into the gritty water, struggling to free herself.

Her feet became tangled in seaweed; the salt began stinging her eyes. She couldn't keep her balance in the sifting sand. She tried to scream but her voice wouldn't come out. She was stuck, trapped and close to being consumed by the ocean. And then he started to walk towards her. With each slow step his eyes glowed brighter, redder than before. They burned and as they did she felt his look burning into her sole. He was reaching out for her and though she wanted a hand to rescue her she didn't want him to touch her. She couldn't stand for him to touch her.

She heard her name in the distance. It was in the form of an incoherent sound at first, but it grew louder, more playful as time went on. As her name grew louder the advancing menace before her found it harder to walk close to her. He couldn't come close to her when her parents were calling her name. She choked out a frightened call to her parents. They couldn't hear her but as she did so, did it again, she found herself becoming free from the tangles of seaweed, from the pounding waves against her little body.

She screamed for them now and was able to take a step, then another, then another. As she called out to them and thought of them she was able to run from the water, run from the rocks and along the sand of the beach.

And then she was safe, safe with them in the car. She kept looking over the back of the seat, out the window of the car. She kept telling them that they had to hurry, that he'd come after her. She tried to tell them to go faster, drive faster, to get away from that place. They had to get away, he was evil. He was evil.

They smiled at her and reassured her that everything was fine. She tried to tell them, but they only smiled. They would only tell her to calm down and that everything was fine, that she was fine. They said she was safe now, there was nothing to fear. But she knew, knew better than that. There was something to fear and it was behind them, constantly behind them, at their backs. They needed to go faster she was begging them to go faster. And they just kept smiling at her in the rearview mirror.

She looked from their smiling faces in the mirror to the world outside the window of the car and she saw a figure slide past into the distance. There was a feeling of dread, but she hadn't seen all of the figure and couldn't place it. Then the figure slid past her window again.

The third time it slid past was the charm. It lifted its hand and she watched as a stream of fire began following the car. Her parents were still staring at her with happy, smiling eyes in the rearview mirror. She looked up at them and then back to the window in time for her to see the fireball hit the car.

The next thing she remembered, she was opening her eyes. Her limbs were dangling, she was hanging out of her seatbelt partway upside down. The car was dented and shattered, the glass of all the windows broken. Her chest was being constricted by the pulling of the seatbelt. She looked up and saw her mother's limbs dangling from her own seat. They were still swaying gently, but there was something scarlet dripping down her arms. She looked away, looked back to the seatbelt and tried to get out. It was stuck.

She heard the sound of crunching glass. Someone had come upon their wreck. She called out through the smoke and her bleary eyes for help, that her parents needed help. The feet didn't quicken. They held a steady pace as they walked around the car. She couldn't see who it was but she yelled louder, they needed help! She saw a pair of legs and boots walk up to what had once been the windshield and a figure standing there, looking at the wreck. She again called out for help, saying that they were stuck. Then the figure slowly crouched down.

It was the man from before. He was staring at her, and her body was on fire. His eyes were burning her up from the inside out. She started screaming, knowing that she was going to—

Cailan started up and looked around. She was covered in sweat and shivering. Her face felt stiff and was throbbing. Her head hurt. She blinked and looked around. The light hurt her eyes; it was almost pure white.

She was in the guest room at Wayne manner. Her lights were off, but the sun reflected off of the snow outside and shone boldly into her room through the sheer curtains. She struggled with what was going on. It felt like she'd gotten smashed faced drunk. She'd had a hangover before—just once…or twice—and she couldn't remember having recently been drinking. Images floated into her head. Dick had said something about sneaking champagne, is that what they'd done? She'd had stronger stuff than that. She remembered and explosion, and smoke.

Her heard started pounding. The car crash. They'd been in a car crash. Something had exploded, the car had gone off the road, had rolled. She'd been caught in a car crash and people had died and he—

She felt sick. Closing her eyes she forced herself to sit up. She was in a dress, her hair—while slightly disheveled from sleep, was done up like—

Like mom's in her and dad's wedding picture… she thought to herself.

Her memories floated back in more or less chronological order now. There'd been Wayne's charity ball, she'd been there with Kaldur. It'd been a good night, and then the Joker had attacked…Jack had come after her. Cailan's head pounded.

…

She walked with trepidation to the door and checked the lock and then, not waiting till she got back to her duffel she began stripping down. She pulled the pins and beads she'd woven into her hair out and dropped them along the wooden floor, dropped her dress around her ankles and, sitting half naked on the bed she tugged off the tights she'd been wearing. She walked naked through the room to her bag of clothes.

The cami-tank was softer against her skin than the silk dress had been even though it was only cotton. Maybe it was because she was tired and injured, and not feeling very beautiful. She threw a jacket that was a size too big on over her cami-tank; she didn't want to wear a bra. She didn't feel well. The sweats were like water against her legs though they were baggy and flannel. It felt like heaven to be in socks and crawl back into the bed.

She opened her eyes again and felt worse than she had before, her head foggy now and her eyes bleary with a short and disturbed sleep. She heard the dim sounds of some sort of life from below.

Holding her breath she got up and went to the locked door. Unsure if this was the smart thing to do she unlocked it and walked out into the second floor hallway. No one was around. Slowly and cautiously she walked down the hall to the stairs. The noises grew louder now. People were talking, walking over glass and rocks, things were grating against the floor.

Skt, skt, skkkkkkt. Skt, skt, skkkkkkt.

She slowly took the stairs, one step at a time until she was on the bottom step. Looking out over what had been the great hall she saw a multitude of people working at cleaning the debris from the floor, big brooms sweeping the smaller dust and chunks of granite and marble and wood and glass into piles to be dumped. The large pieces of stone or marble were being lifted with ease by these people and tossed into another pile. Pieces of tile were being glued back in place or entire sections were being removed all together. Bits of wooden paneling that had lined the walls were being pulled down, holes in the walls were being plastered over.

Looking down at her feet she saw something glittering and sparkling in the light from the afternoon caught under some smaller chunks of waste. Gingerly taking it into her fingers she pulled her mask from the floor. It was dented and torn, the design badly scared and pieces broken and missing. It'd been stepped on, the footprint still in dust on the face.

"Oh, Cailan," Dick said as she stepped down, pulling her long and tangled hair back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey, why didn't someone wake me?" she asked with a smile, grabbing a broom.

"…" he gave her an odd look then shrugged and smiled. "figured a princess needed her beauty sleep, that's all,"

"Hey, Megan was the princess, remember? And I'll bet she's been at this for a few hours already," Cailan quipped back.

Dick left her to sweeping up the area around the stairs; she was just another body now that she looked normal. No one really noticed that she was there, or that she hadn't been there previously. Dick was called over to help someone move something or other away. She continued sweeping, taking her cues from the other people working she began sweeping into a pile, making it a decent size with all the junk around before moving on.

"Hey, you alright?" looking up she saw blue eyes boring into her own.

"Oh, hey Conner." She smiled again. "I'm fine,"

He looked at her disbelievingly. Her smile didn't falter. She looked down back to her work and continued on. "My head hurts a bit, but I figured I could get out and help with something."

"It looks like you took a pretty hard hit." She looked up at him again. Was that concern, why?

Her brow furrowed and her smile came again, but spread wider because she was going to laugh. She stopped, a biting shock surging through her; her hand flew up to her cheek.

Something collided with her face and then she was falling backwards. She didn't scream, she didn't have time. She was too stunned to scream out.

She'd been hit. Now she remembered. "Ow."

"Tch," Conner chuckled, shaking his head.

"What's that for?" her brow furrowed and she spoke slowly, scared to bring the shock back.

"That's all you say? 'Ow'? I don't understand you Cali,"

"What'd'ya mean?" she ran her fingers slowly over her cheek; it did feel a bit swollen.

He sighed. "Come look at your face," he took her by the arm and led her over to a broken mirror that lay in several pieces against a wall.

She looked into it and it took all her ability to keep her mouth shut. It was worse than it felt. She had an ugly mark on her cheek. Sure, she'd been hit before, she'd been through quite a bit on the street and with Jake a few months ago and all, but she'd never been given such a defining mark as this. Her cheek was raised and slightly swollen, and severely discolored. The bruise crept out to almost the rest of the side of her face it was so permeating. The flesh hurt when she pressed it, but it wasn't the traditional tenderness of a bruise, she knew what that felt like. This was something else.

"Oh." She felt stupid and her face grew hot when Conner started laughing softly at her. The heat made her face hurt. "Be quiet, you don't look so great either ya know," she muttered, pouting slightly.

Conner just laughed harder. "Yeah, I was fighting last night,"

His statement sobered both of them up. Cailan looked around. She wasn't contributing an awful lot to the cleanup project that was going on. No one even really knew that she was there. Her head started swimming for some reason. She blinked it away and stood, trying to hide from Conner the blackness that overtook her vision for a moment.

"Hey, I need to get to my room for a sec, kay? I'll be back in a few minutes," she said, looking to where she hoped he was still standing.

"Sure," she heard him say.

Her hand along the banister pulled her along up the stairs; she wasn't sure she'd have made it on her own.

…

What the heck is wrong with me? she thought, sitting heavily on the bed. She shook her head and swore at her own stupidity for doing so. Her head felt like it was on fire.

And image surged quickly into her head at the thought of being on fire and she leapt to her feet, her heart thundering at her. Catching her breath she walked to the mirror and sat down. She'd had bruises before, it wasn't like she couldn't hide it.

…

1:20pm

"Oh hiya Cailan," Wally said, seeing her for the first time.

She glanced up from working with Megan and Conner at getting a large pile of debris into a larger bin to be dumped into an even larger garbage bin outside.

"Hey Wally, doing all right?" she said carefully, trying not to speak too slowly or awkwardly. She'd put on foundation and her cheek looked almost perfect again. She let a little show through—she'd been hit in the face after all, some sort of sign of that was expected. Conner had given her a look when she'd first come back down, but he was letting it slide for now.

"Yeah. I was about to ask you the same thing…" he had a look of worry on his face.

"Haha, I'm fine. I guess I just freaked and fainted," she shrugged laughing a little. She didn't care if they knew about it, she wasn't going to pretend to be a brave hero. Someone had looked at her fit to kill her—

He had no actual head, or that he wasn't actually in any human; Jack scared her because his eyes bored into her so deeply, and it felt like as he did so he was scorching her soul with Lucifer's own flames. The Jack-o-lantern face glared at her, a scar down the pumpkin head. The eyes and mouth were set in a grotesquely angry face. His hands gripped her so hard there was an instant bruise there

—she was just a normal person. It was fine to have been scared.

"I'm glad you're alright, when Batman took you away last night we were all kind of worried," he said, his eyes flickering over to Megan and Conner.

"You shouldn't worry about me," she winked with her left eye. "I'm pretty durable."

Wally chuckled and began helping the other three out with their mess. It was a long and arduous cleanup project. Everyone was quiet and solemn.

…

4:37pm

The sky was darkening. Most of the debris were gone, though there were still repairs to be made. Cailan's entire body ached. She didn't understand why. She wasn't out of shape, she'd been doing hard work since she was young, and it hadn't been overly long since she'd worked like this in her own apartment either. But she was realizing it was taking all of her strength to not let her limbs tremble and fall beneath her.

"Cailan," she froze in what she was doing and looked up to see Kaldur standing there, surprised slapped across his face.

"Hi Kal—" she found her words silenced into his shoulder as he swept her into an embrace and buried his face in her hair.

Her face grew hot and her head started throbbing, making the room tilt and sway. When he finally pulled away she caught Megan and Conner staring at them, and Wally's mouth gaping openly, almost hitting the floor as he looked on at his leader's behavior.

"You should not be up now. You are not well," Kaldur said, his eyes stern as he looked at her.

She felt her embarrassed flush grow on her face. "Don't be silly. I told you before, it isn't like this is the first time I've been hit." She said stubbornly.

"Do not be obstinate. You should be upstairs resting." He said, his voice authoritative.

"I'm more use doing little things down here. I told you, I'm fine." She looked at him defiantly. Was it the floor swaying, or was it just in her head.

"You are not," Kaldur persisted.

"C'mon Kal, leave her alone," Wally said gently, smiling. "She's alright, she's been helping us all day,"

Kaldur looked down at Cailan with slightly narrowed eyes. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Now what could you all be doing, standing around and slacking off your chores?" Bruce asked, walking out of another room and placing his hands on his hips. Cailan thought she saw a slight pull at the corner of his mouth, hiding a smile.

"Ah, Ms. Leal, it's good to see that you're awake." He said. "Are you alright?"

She saw his brow quickly furrow in concern. "Yes,"

"You are flushed," Kaldur said, his eyes not relenting in their disapproval.

"No I'm not. Let's just get back to cleaning up," she said.

Why is he looked at me funny? She thought back carefully over what she had said. Did I let my words slur?

…

7:49pm

Cailan hadn't eaten much of anything for dinner. Her stomach was busy twisting in knots trying to prove she was fine. She pushed the food around on her plate and drank the milk; it felt curdled in her stomach. She'd excused herself while her friends were busy with some other important matter and had ducked out. Mr. Wayne had invited them all to stay a while—jokingly they teased him that he only wanted their powers to clean up his house, but they all agreed. They were off missions on Christmas day.

Wally had darted through the transport to the mountain to get the gifts everyone had bought for each other, and Bruce, Diana, Green Arrow and Black Canary, Roy, Clark Kent and Lois Lane, Flash and Megan's uncle John were all in attendance.

As they were all settling down there was a ringing at the door and Kaldur received the first gift of the night: his King, Queen, and friends Tula and Garth, had made the party. He was overwhelmed (Dick agreed that it was a case of overwhelm-ment) to have his family there.

They only noticed Cailan's absence when they had all assembled—even Alfred—around the great tree (which, though slightly singed in places and showing a few patches of burned wood and missing limbs, as well as slightly fewer ornaments, still looked beautiful as was again standing tall). They had pulled chairs and couches and pillows to sit on, started the fire, and everyone had a glass of eggnog (thought only the adults got the rum). Cailan had disappeared a few hours prior to their merriment of Christmas.

She'd always made sure that Natalia had a little something on Christmas, but she never decorated. She'd sometimes do Ms. Ginsburg's room up, if the old lady asked. Christmas wasn't Cailan's thing. Christmas was for families to get together. She didn't like to remember what Christmas had been like before she lost her parents, and then the depressing mess that it had turned into with her aunt and uncle. Not to mention she was feeling progressively worse as the night went on. Her head had begun throbbing so badly she was amazed the others didn't ask her why her head sounded like a drum. And her stomach didn't want to keep the milk and the little bits of food she'd eaten down. It kept churning, like frothing waves.

"Hey, where's Cali?" Dick asked as he sat cross legged in front of the fire place, his glass of eggnog in front of him.

They looked around and realized they'd been unaware of her absence.

"I believe I saw Ms. Leal heading up to her room." Alfred offered as he poured another glass for Megan who had found that she enjoyed the eggnog very much.

"I'll—" Wally started to say, having just returned with an armload of presents.

"No, I will get her, take your time with the gifts Wally," Kaldur said, sounding to everyone to be offering to do a chore for Wally, so that the speedster could play Santa.

Bruce Wayne had taken care that everyone there would receive at the very least one gift.

Kaldur took a deep breath as he climbed the stairs. He'd let three of his teammates see his affection for Cailan earlier, and Mr. Wayne, he was not sure how much Wayne had seen. That bothered him a little. He had hidden it well with simple concern; at least, he hoped he had. He was their leader; he should not be getting preoccupied with a charge. Not to mention the last time he let his head become distracted by a girl. But, if he felt that way, was it a crime to hide it?

"Cailan," he said softly, knocking on the door.

It was a moment before the door opened. She looked tired when she opened it up to him.

"Hey Kaldur," she smiled, though, it seemed slightly haggard to him. She, like everyone else, had changed for dinner. She was still wearing the only nice dress that she had, though it looked a little rumpled to him, as if she'd been lying down.

"Are you—"

She stepped forward quickly and put her fingers against his soft lips. "I'm fine,"

He placed his hand over hers and kissed her fingers, then moved her hand to his cheek. "We are going to celebrate, and open gifts. Everyone is waiting."

"Oh…I'm sorry you guys shouldn't have," she said, her brow creasing with distress.

"We want you there Cailan," he said, stepping back and bringing her hand with him. Aside from her extending arm, that was all that came. He looked at her, confused.

"I…I am a little tired, I'd hate to ruin it for everyone. I think I'll just go to bed early Kaldur,"

Her hand started to slip from hers.

"Cailan," he said, stepping back up to her. "Your family would enjoy Christmas more, if you were there,"

…

"Sorry to keep you guys waiting," Cailan said; she'd asked Kaldur for just five minutes.

The five minutes she straightened her dress (note, not the dress from the ball), fixed her makeup and was looking as normal as ever now as she entered the room. Her stomach was doing flip-flops, though, now because she didn't have a gift for anyone.

"Ch, yeah, of course you don't." Dick said, looking at her like she was crazy when she apologized to her friends. "It isn't exactly as if you could 'get out of the house' to get them, is it?"

"Yeah, no worries. You can just get us two next year," Conner said, sounding much like Wally in his joke.

"Here, want some eggnog?" Megan offered her a glass from Alfred's tray.

Cailan couldn't refuse the girl's smile. "Sure, thank you."

…

9:10pm

The gifts had been unwrapped and everyone was satisfied on eggnog and gingerbread cookies. They had all lapsed into smaller groups and were telling stories and joke and laughing. Cailan kept quiet, on two counts. She was speaking with Kaldur and his two Atlantian friends, and Artemis was taken with Tula, so those two were conversing a lot. Not to mention how horrible she felt. The eggnog was rich and creamy and she couldn't stop worrying that she might see it again, though much the worse for wear.

"Cailan," Dinah said, tilting her head so that her blond hair swung around over her shoulder. "They told me you dance,"

"Yes," Cailan said slowly; at Dinah's gently probing raised brows she continued. "I was on the school team but mostly I dance ballet,"

Her throat felt tight, like she was telling a lie that they were close to catching up on.

"Oh, I have never seen ballet before," the Queen of Atlantis was saying. "It would be wonderful, would you mind dancing for us?"

Cailan felt her face blush with the request, but there were a few others who chipped in and said it would be very wonderful. Buckling under the peer pressure and feeling obligated not only for her lack of any other gift and the request having come from royalty, but also as a way to appease Wayne's guests and therefore settle part of a debt she had come to believe she had to him.

"Well, I'll need music," she said looking around carefully. "And a bit of space,"

"There's a piano in the library," Bruce said, a knowing look on his face. "I think Lois can play, right Lois?"

"Yes, a bit. What music do you need sweetie?"

"Anything will do," Cailan said, standing carefully. She felt her tights shift against her legs as she moved.

"I have not seen ballet either, I am very excited!" Tula said, clinging to Artemis' arm as they meandered casually towards the library doors.

"Yeah, it's something," Artemis said for lack of a better reply.

Cailan took deep breaths. She knew she shouldn't be dancing. She was liable to be horrible, or to fall, or worse, to break something that belonged to the millionaire. She pulled her hair back out of habit and twisted it into a tie-less bun at the nap of her neck. It wouldn't hold for long but it would keep the distraction to a minimum. She heard the keys of the piano plinking a little and glanced over to Ms. Lane.

"Sorry, I just need to remember…" the woman said as she stared at the keys.

"It's alright, I can start anytime," Cailan said, looking at the ground and flexing her feet. She'd never had an exclusive audience before…actually, she wasn't even used to an audience when dancing ballet, not anymore.

That's what's bothering you. You just need to clear you head and focus. Pick out a spot on the carpet and feel your body. Sing your mind into the song and let your muscles be guided by their strings to your heart. Relax, like you're a bubble floating through the sky, or a feather on the sea. She flexed her feet in small steps and rolled her shoulders, trying to find the comfortable movement of her arms. She got a glazed over look in her eyes that Kaldur recognized and began a few pre-performance moves to get her body warmed up.

Kaldur looked closely and saw the perspiration on her brow. It didn't seem right, but she might have a bad case of nerves.

The music started to play and at first she didn't move. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up, raising her arm. And then, in slow, cautious movements she started. She had to get a feel for the song, had to know the movements of her dress and her body and her breathing. But Cailan had been born to dance. She was able to raise up on her toes to her full extent and draw her leg up behind her head, able to bring that leg slowly down and out, parallel to the floor and hold it there before twisting around into a spin. Her feet were captivating as they moved, knowing what to do seemingly without her even thinking about them. Her eyes remained closed and her arms played off the movement of her feet.

She recognized the song. It was a few repeating bars of Beethoven's Fur Elise. When Ms. Lane finally stopped playing Cailan stopped too, standing on the tips of her toes, her legs crossed, her body twisted in a graceful, half-arc to her audience, her arms hanging over her head poised. She remained here for two and a half counts after the song stopped playing before relaxing back down to face her audience and curtsy.

She had to work hard to steady her breath and blink away the blackness that threatened her vision.

…

The younger kids wandered off into another room—the games room—for the rest of the evening while the adults got a fair share of bubbly or scotch. Cailan had appreciated the modest applause and compliments and then easily slipped back into the folds of obscurity as other subjects were brought up and Christmas things went on.

She wasn't used to Christmas.

It was late when people started leaving and the young team found themselves worn out and tired, ready to lay their heads on a pillow and go out like lights. That included Cailan. Her eyes were heavy as she once again went up the stairs to the guest room Bruce was letting her use. The mattress well could have been rock and it would have been comfortable to her. Her head ached, like someone had taken it and shaken it up in glass bottle until there was nothing but mush left over. She felt severely broken and rather disoriented as she once again fell onto the bed. She didn't bother changing, she'd hardly had enough strength or endurance to wash the makeup that hid her bruise from her face.

Instead she let her mind drift off and enjoyed the heavy dreams of slumber. But the dreams seemed to be her problem. Or, nightmares rather, were what invaded her mind on Christmas night. She tossed and turned; her body fought a fever and she was drenched in a cold sweat.

She dreamt of darkness and flames, and Jack's face permeated her sleep-vision. She couldn't keep still as she floated between an un-restful sleep and a distraught, disoriented awareness. When she was awake Cailan felt like she was floating on a mattress in the sea, that the room was tilting and swaying underneath her. Yet there was nothing worse than Jack's twisted, hate-filled face chasing her through her dreams.

Waking up startled and confused she bolted straight up. However, Cailan was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, her sheets tangled around her legs and, bolting with fear she was panicked. She writhed around and fell out of the bed. Of course, this would have been of little coincidence, except that she had the good luck to strike her already injured cheek on the nightstand.

Looking on the brighter side of things, Cailan was able to sleep well from that point on.

…

26th of December,

7:30am

Cailan blinked several times before the shapes and shadows of her vision solidified into actual things in the dim morning light of the grey, after-Christmas dawn. Even blinking hurt. With a grim realization she knew her face was going to look twice as bad as it had the day before. Every movement sent a jarring shock through her starting with her cheek, running through her jaw and down her spine.

"Not. Good."

…

"Don't say a word." Cailan said with a clenched jaw, her eyes averted from Kaldur's face.

Kaldur sighed and shook his head; Cailan sat on the bed as still as possible in front of him. She was still dressed from the night before, slightly disheveled, her hair down around her shoulders in left over curls. His hand hovered at her face, but he dared not risk touching her. Her cheek was swollen and severe discoloring marred all along the side of her face.

"Come," He offered her his hand and repressed an 'I-told-you-so' "We must tell Bruce. Perhaps he can take you to see someone,"

Her eyes flashed up to his face, glowing dangerously. He hated it when she looked at him through her long lashes like that.

"Cailan, please?" he softened his voice, trying not to beg. "I do not like seeing your hurt."

"…I hate doctors."

He failed to suppress his chuckle at her this time. "Why should you hate doctors?"

"Because you wear paper dresses when you see them and they stab you with needles and their hands are always cold." She said; she knew it was the usual thing said when people were recounting the reasons they hated doctors.

"…" she tried not to look away from his eyes as Kaldur's bored intently into hers. "Cailan, you do not need to lie to me,"

She ground her teeth and jerked at the pain the stupid move caused her. Every move hurt.

"I don't like going back to hospitals."

It was enough to keep him quiet as the two walked down the stairs to find Bruce. The millionaire didn't question why Cailan had called Kaldur when the two arrived in his study. The man, while noting the two's not so subtle behavior, took a ginger though probing look at Cailan's cheek.

"Let me call Dr. Hammon, I'm sure I can get him to see you today. He owes me a favor or two," Wayne said, winking.

Kaldur watched the girl's jaw jump and the accompanying flinch and he could tell she was thinking something close to 'gee, great, a doctor'.

…

9:47am

Cailan sat gently swinging her legs. She was slouched in a cold room in a paper dress, waiting to be led down for x-rays. She'd been given aspirin for the pain, but it hadn't helped at all. The doctor had examined her face, his hands cold like she was expecting. She couldn't stop shivering as she sat there. She hated hospitals.

She hadn't suffered many injuries from the crash eight years ago. Some abrasions and some cuts were the only sign that she'd been in the crash at all. But she'd had to stay in the hospital, watching them work for hours on her mother. She hadn't been allowed to see her father, not at all. She wasn't supposed to have seen her mother either. But she had. She looked through the glass when the doctors with the clipboards had gone out of the room. On the other side of the glass had been her mother on a table; there had been so much blood.

Cailan shivered again. There had been so much blood in the car that it was hard to think that there could have been so much more in the operating room too.

The door creaked open and a nurse took her silently to another cold room where she was told to sit patiently on a metal tray-like table. Then she had to answer questions. Are you wearing jewelry, if so please, take it off. When was the last time you had your period? Are you on any medications? Are you pregnant? Is there a chance you could be pregnant? When she'd answered no to all these questions and taken off the only jewelry she wore—her anklet—she sat back. The nurse went over her pages on the clipboard and, looking up with narrowed eyes over the clipboard through her glasses she asked Cailan again. "Are you sure there's no chance you're pregnant?"

Cailan wanted to tell her 'no, you nosey old woman I haven't even gotten my v-card punched yet, if it's any of your business to know.' Instead, working to keep her mouth from moving too much, she answered the nurse.

"No ma'am. There is no chance I could be pregnant." She knew why she was being asked; if someone had taken a history of her menstruation they'd find she was irregular more often than not. However, that's what happened to athletes who were so poor as to be pretty much living off of the street: hard labor/work, the stress of her dancing added to taking care of her sister as well as worrying about food and living conditions, and the fact itself that her diet had been haphazard and poor in and of itself.

Cailan knew that the woman was thinking back to when she'd seen her walk in with Kaldur; it was obvious that they weren't siblings, possibly more so with the worry Kaldur showed her now that they were around only strangers. He hadn't tried hard to hide that he cared about her and was worried. Cailan knew that the nurse was thinking that they'd more likely than not had sex.

"Alright Ms. Leal, sit back and sit positively still," the woman ordered as she put a heavy, protective vest over Cailan's chest.

There were clicking sounds. The room was cold and it made her jaw hurt more than ever.

…

10:16am

"Well Ms. Leal," the doctor said, putting up the x-rays of her face so he could see them through the light. "It seems you have managed to fracture the zygomatic bone. It looks as though it's only a hair-line fracture however."

He turned back to her and smiled. "I can offer you a pain-prescription, but other than that my dear, there is little else you can do but to ice it."

He switched off the machine that lit up the x-rays and turned back to her. "Now, whatever did you do I wonder, to fracture your cheekbone?"

"I fell out of bed and hit the side-table." She lied.

"Hm." He drew out a pad and scribbled down some words. "Well, here you are. But be mindful, you are only to take one of these a day, and only if over the counter pills won't work. This is a very strong medication."

…

"Fractured cheekbone." She muttered as she came out of the office and pulled a coat stiffly over her shoulders.

"It is adorable how you talk," Kaldur said; his voice was even and his words caught her off guard. He merely laughed at her and walked her outside where Alfred had the car waiting for them.

"Shut up," she finally retorted, knowing he was teasing her for her thick speech.

"When we get back to the mansion Master Wayne wishes to speak with you, ," Alfred said through the intercom in the limo.

"Cailan," Kaldur said before he left her. "Be careful,"

The quick kiss he planted on her forehead was the closest they'd been since he kissed her in the library.

…

10:34am

"Hello Cailan. Are you feeling better."

"I hope to be soon," she spoke slowly, her words thick. "Thank you for sending me to your doctor,"

She had managed to repress her shiver at 'doctor'.

"Not a problem, I'm glad to have been able to help. Now, I understand it that you're past is somewhat of an ambiguity. There is some business about 'runaways' and the sort?"

"I'm eighteen in a few weeks. I'll be legal to live on my own before anything could really be done." She said, flinching through her clinched jaw.

"Please, there is no need to get defensive," she wasn't sure she liked how his smile and his smirk were indiscernible. "I have an offer that might suit you."

Her brow furrowed. She was almost positive that Bruce was Dick's mentor, which in turn had to make him Batman. And it would make sense then, how the League was supported—private investors like Bruce could supply a lot of money. But Bruce never seemed to be in a rush, nor was he as severe as Batman. In fact, Bruce had been almost friendly towards her over the past few days.

"What kind of offer?"

She felt a little chilled at his smile and questioned what she was getting into. She had a chip on her shoulder to trusting people.

"The night of the party I was berated from all sides over your ability for dance, Ms. Leal. Having seen for myself your talent last night, I can't say that it's unwarranted. Dick has also informed me that you've dropped out of Gotham Academy. Until this year, you seem to have kept up remarkable grades," his hands were behind his back and he paced his way over to the window.

"I have a reputation as a patron of the arts, and you have a very raw talent and very great potential. With the proper guidance and training, you could be great."

Bruce Wayne tilted his head back over his shoulder and looked at her, his eyebrows lifted but his face rather void of other expression.

"What I'm offering you, Ms. Leal," he turned back and faced her, looking like he was about to make a grave business deal. "Is the chance to make a career of your obvious passion for ballet."

Cailan sat down, still not sure what he was getting at. She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"What I'm offering you is this: you may stay here as long as you wish, your every need met and under limited surveillance, on one condition." Cailan held her breath and his gaze as she looked back to him. "I expect to hear nothing less than 'remarkable' accounts of how hard you're working from Ms. Sophia Golrino. Her dissatisfaction with your abilities or effort would be grounds to make my offer null and void. However, other accommodations can be discussed if you were to take issue with Ms. Golrino."

"…Sophia Golrino? Who studied at the Royal Ballet Academy? Of the Gotham Ballet troupe? The Sophia Golrino, who studied in Russia for eight years before coming back to perform at the President's request? That Sophia Golrino?"

"Oh, you've heard of her then?" Mr. Wayne feigned boredom.

"I'd…get to study under her?" Cailan asked, her voice almost inaudible.

"Of course, you're in no condition to train right now. I'd say a good six weeks or so of rest before you should start. But, yes. I have a gymnasium where you could work with Dick in strength training; there's a ballroom around here somewhere that can be transferred into a ballet studio within six weeks or so."

"You're paying her to teach me ballet, letting me live here, and building a studio for me?" her heart was bounding sending blood surging through her veins. It throbbed in her head and made her face hurt. "Why would you do that?"

Her question had caught Bruce off guard. He looked intently at her for a moment, the continued pacing and returned to the window, still not having answered her.

"I guess because when I was a kid and lost my parents, I had Alfred to look after me. I had a house to live in, money to spend as I pleased. But I didn't have a passion—for anything—when I was your age. I was filled with vengeance and anger. You've worked hard to succeed as you have."

"But why should you care?"

He shrugged. "Because if I had been in your place, I would hope someone would have cared enough to help me."

"How can I—"

He put his hand up to stop her and shook his head. "It isn't a debt kid."

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I won't abuse this chance."