R U GOOD

He repeated the question to them. They hesitated before the older girl responded to him. Arvok’s ears twitched before he said. “Their camp had been destroyed, and they were the only survivors when the Sky People were here. Previously, they had been exiled from their clan.” You frowned as Arvok winced. “They have been seeking shelter all over the forest. Last night, they found your Sky People’s hut and have been hiding since.”

You nodded. “Makes sense.”

The older boy then spoke as if asking a question. This, you understood. “Do you come from the Omatikaya?”

Arvok nodded. Some of the children perked up at this, but the older boy raised a hand, telling them to calm down. He glanced toward the older girl, having a silent conversation.

Then the boy addressed Arvok, whose ears perked up. “They seek uturu.”

Sanctuary. That was a phrase you were familiar with. It also made you perk up curiously.

“With the Omatikaya?” You asked, and Arvok nodded in confirmation. “Tsu’tey’s with Jake and Neytiri.”

“We could bring them to the Tsahik,” Arvok suggested just as thunder rolled by.

You shook your head. “The village is too far. By the time we start going that way, we’ll be stuck in the storm.” Your mind spun quickly before you took out your tablet. “What if you stay here while I get Norm? We could put them in our longhouse and call Tsu’tey and the others after.”

Arvok nodded as he relayed the message to them. They didn’t look so happy about it, but didn’t seem to protest. Arvok crouched while gesturing for you to go. “I will stay. You get your Sky Person.”

With that, you left the tree and found your pa’li. You rode off in the direction of Hell’s Gate, glancing up at the sky to find the clouds turning darker.

Another roll of thunder went by as Hell’s Gate came into view. When you were close enough, the air picked up as you hopped off and rushed toward one of the entrances. You pushed toward the gate surrounding the compound. Fortunately, you found Norm in your garden in his avatar.

“Spellman!”

Norm looked up from your mushrooms in surprise. “Hey, Doc. I thought you were with—”

“No time for that. I have children—six total in one of our shacks just west of here. They’re seeking uturu with the Omatikaya.” Norm frowned while you continued before he could interrupt. “The storm’s closing in. I want to put them in the longhouse until we can get Tsu’tey to talk to them. But right now, we need transportation.”

Norm nodded. “I could prepare a Samson—”

“And fly in the storm?!”

“It’s the safest and least destructive, so yeah!”

Thunder rolled by again as Norm took off. You looked anxiously up at the sky. The wind picked up quicker than before, blowing your hair roughly around your face. For a brief second, you thought you spotted a winged creature in the clouds when lightning struck. But when you squinted, there was nothing there.

A minute later, a ship rolled out of a different exit of Hell’s Gate. You jogged toward it just as another alert went off on your tablet. Norm leaned out of the ship as you took out your tablet. Your heart lurched.

“It’s Grace’s avatar.”

“Go,” Norm said just as he reached for something in the ship before giving it to you. “A radio. So, we can keep each other updated in case.”

You nodded, tucking the radio in your bag. “Arvok is waiting with the children. Should be fine. Just to get back before the storm gets worse.”

“Will do, Mom.” Norm winked before taking off. You watched the ship fly off before rushing toward the tank room. You passed a few humans on the way until you finally reached the amino tank. You grabbed the heart monitor and brought up the baby’s stats, only for your heart to lurch again.

“She’s in labor.” You whispered as you took in a few deep breaths. “Okay, okay.” You rushed toward the doorway. “I need scientists in the ambient room in five! The avatar’s in labor! I repeat the avatar is in labor!”

You took the tank and rolled it out of the room.

The ambient room wasn’t too far. And by the time you rolled the tank next to the bed and popped the top, a few scientists with exo-masks and scrubs on entered.

One of the scientists, Max Patel, took the lead in ordering everyone around. “Lay her on the bed—gently! Link her up to the heart monitor fast!”

“She can’t even push.” You pointed out as you lifted Grace’s avatar out of the tank and placed her on the bed. “We might have to do a C-section.”

“Right, right.” Max nodded. A scientist pushed a small table forward.

Your radio suddenly went off. Norm’s voice came through the static. You murmured that you would be back before quickly stepping out of the room. You took out your radio. “Norm? Norm, can you hear me?” There was only static. The storm must’ve been messing with the signal.

“Yeah—on our way back—six of us.”

You furrowed your brows. “Wait, six? There should be seven of you. Is there a child missing? Norm?”

“I—hear you—Grave’s—” More static. You cursed.

“Doc! We need you in here!”

You cursed, tucking the radio back in your bag before you rushed back into the room.

“Reeds, I’m gonna need you to take her out,” Maz called as you got closer, only to find that they had already made an incision in the stomach. It was open and stretched enough so that the womb and the baby were visible. “Reeds—”

“I got it, I got it.” You nodded jerkishly.

As gently as you could, you grabbed the baby’s head. They widened the whole, “Careful.” You warned them as you slowly pulled them out.

Cries filled the room, drowning out the thunder. She was small in your hands but practically looked like a toddler next to a human. Max cut the umbilical cord, and you took her to another small table with a bunch of towels to use to wipe off the blood. She kept crying, which was a good sign. A couple of scientists helped out while you gently caressed the little hairs on her head, trying to comfort her.

“Hey, little girl. Don’t worry, we’ll get your parents here soon.” You whispered soothingly. “You’re pretty much stuck with me for now.”

“We’ll get some formula ready for her,” Max called as he and the others began to roll Grace’s avatar out of the room.

“O-Oh, um, okay.” You swallowed nervously, looking back down at the crying newborn. “Okay, okay…Okay, Reeds. You got this. You got this. Warm the baby, warm the baby.”

You grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around the baby. You then picked her up and held her in your arms. She continued to cry.

“Ssh, I know, I know, this is not ideal. Neytiri and Jake are probably way better at this—your actual parents. Um…” You tried thinking quickly until one idea came to mind.

Gently, you took your thumb and drew small circles between her brows. You hummed quietly, rocking your body back and forth, slowly. Until her cries lessened. Her eyes were squinting, her nose scrunched together.

Your lips lifted slightly. “I knew you’d be cute.”

Her little hand, while squirming in the towel, managed to grab onto your thumb.

And suddenly, you finally realized what it felt like to be alive.

When Jake saw the fallen Samson, its torn wings, and the smoke, his chest tightened. A million thoughts went through his head then, his heart racing against his chest as he landed Bob on a nearby tree, practically throwing himself off the saddle to rush over toward the fallen ship.

“Ma’Jake!” He glanced over his shoulder to find Neytiri just landing her ikran, Zu’ri. She rushed over toward him, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the ship. “Tsu’tey went back to the village. He’s gathering the warriors to protect the village.” She then looked toward the Samson with a frown. “What has happened here?”

Jake shook his head as he neared the ship cautiously, “I’m not sure. Norm!” He called. Last he talked to him was on the radio. Norm mentioned something about picking up a few kids from a link shack and then static. The storm had gotten so bad that it was difficult to get in touch with both Hell’s Gate and home.

But the storm seemed to have calmed down a bit. Enough for them to be trekking through the forest like this. Enough for them to notice the ship from the sky. That was the one good thing that came out of this day.

Before all of this, Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu’tey had met up with the general of the Tipani Clan, Rai’uk, in hopes of a trade. They’d give him his warrior back in exchange for them to leave the Sky People at Hell’s Gate alone, as they were under the protection of the Omatikaya. 

As expected, it didn’t go well. Tsu’tey was the one who wanted to keep the peace between the clans, but that wasn’t going to happen when it came to the Sky People. After your arrival, all bets were off. The Tipani Clan had been one of the other clans affected by the Sky People when they were here, so their hatred for them was both understandable—yet vicious. A lot less merciful than the Omatikaya.

Rai’uk didn’t take the deal nor call off his warriors from snooping around Hell’s gate, which, fortunately, they had yet to find. But they were coming too close. And Jake hoped they could solve all of this before any unnecessary damage was caused.

Tsu’tey still gave him his warrior back, just to show that all the Omatikaya wanted was peace. But the idea of peace was a thin piece of a string as of now.

Anything could snap it.

“Norm!” Jake called again. He neared the damaged ship, and Neytiri kept her distance and went around it. “Norm, are you here?”

“Jake?”

His ears twitched as he snapped his head in the direction of the voice. There was shuffling in the bushes behind him. Neytiri drew her bow, but Jake raised a hand toward her, motioning for her to wait. Knowing that her shot was far too good to waste right now.

Coming out of the woods was none other than Norm himself in his avatar body. He waved at them with a radio in his hands, “Sorry, I was trying to get a signal.”

“What the hell happened?” Jake asked, gesturing to the damaged Samson. Neytiri reluctantly lowered her bow as Norm approached them.

“Yeah, um, long story.” The scientist scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “As I told you on the radio before we got cut off, I was flying out to get a bunch of kids from one of our link shacks—Tsu’tey’s brother said that they had broken in the night before to seek shelter and that they were seeking uturu with the Omatikaya Clan. Reeds wanted to put them in the compound longhouse before we brought them to you, and I was flying them back, but the storm got worse, and I think lightning struck down one of the wings. I don’t know, we all of a sudden went down. Luckily, no one was hurt, but the kids ran when they heard some sort of call.”

Neytiri perked up at this, “What call?”

“A warrior’s call.” Norm winced as he sank on a nearby rock, messing with his radio. “Which is pretty confusing considering they told me they were exiled from their clan.”

Jake didn’t want to voice it out loud. But there was this feeling in the pits of his stomach. Something within him made his heart lurch a few times. Maybe it was the Marine in him. Trained to always be aware of his surroundings. It was Corporal Sully prodding at his mind, at his instincts.

Something wasn’t right about all of this. No contact with Hell’s Gate, instantly, he was worried. Was the baby okay? And where the hell were you? He was sure that he left you back at the village so that either he or Neytiri would come back and take you back home. When Jake had gone back to First Base, you weren’t there. Mo’at had no clue where you had gone, and right after that, he received the message from Norm that brought both him and Neytiri out here. So, it was safe to say Jake was a little unsettled and on edge about all of this.

Neytiri was good at picking up on his growing unease and squeezed his arm, “We will take you back to your people. The storm is not over yet. We all should be getting home soon.”

At those words, Jake nodded in agreement, feeling himself a little more grounded. “Agreed. It’s been a long enough day.” He could be overthinking things. It could be PTSD, or it could be that he was too used to a fight.

Norm kept messing with the radio as Jake and Neytiri called for their ikrans. Just as Bob and Zu’ri flew down to them, a voice came through.

“Any—copy—body—copy—Does anybody copy?”

“This is Norm.” He quickly responded, shooting to his feet. Jake’s ears twitched, watching him curiously. “Who is this?” There was more static as Norm continued. “I’m heading back to Hell’s Gate soon, do you copy? Anyone there?”

More static. Jake met Neytiri’s unsure gaze as the voice came through again, “D-Don’t come back here! W—crack—we’re under—at—crack!”

“What?” Norm frowned while Jake’s chest tightened. 

“Crack-crack—We’re under attack! Don’t come! I repeat, don’t come—“

The line cut abruptly.

Neytiri’s eyes were wide as she grabbed for Jake’s hand, “The baby, Jake!”

He wouldn’t allow himself to think too much, to think the worst. He would lose focus. He couldn’t afford that; he couldn’t afford to react. All Jake did was climb onto his ikran with his gun, “Move out!”

“Tsu’tey.” Neytiri contacted through the throat communicator. “Come to Hell’s Gate. The baby is in danger, come quickly!”

“Where the hell is Reeds?!” Jake hissed as Norm joined him on his ikran.

Norm’s face fell. “She stayed back at base. Something about the baby.”

“Fuck!” Jake hissed. 

At some point, you had ended up sitting on an empty cot as she now slept in your arms while you were telling her a story about your mother’s shenanigans.

“She got fired, of course, but the thing about my mother is that she always had to have the last word. So, she left thumb tacks in her boss’s chair and drawer…I think she got arrested—I don’t know, she always purposefully blurred the details whenever she told it to me.”

You glanced down to find her sound asleep against your chest. An hour ago, Max brought the formula and a loincloth for the baby, which was common among the natives. So now, the little girl looked more Na’vi than avatar. The only thing left that pointed toward her being an avatar baby was her five fingers instead of four.

She lay on her stomach against your chest, her small head sometimes nuzzling against your collarbone every other second. Her breathing was gentle and blowing against your neck. It was relaxing for you, easing your tense muscles for once. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until now, until you relaxed your back against the cot headboard, eyes drooping.

Then your ears perked. Two sounds were happening at once.

The radio in your bag had suddenly come to life with static and voices. Voices you couldn’t make out. Then there was something else.

“Yip!”

A high-pitched sound. No. A call of some sort. And it was close by. Your body became tense again.

And suddenly, the lights went out.

Perfect.

You grabbed the radio and brought it to your ears. “—Call—backup—natives—attack—”

Most of it you couldn’t make out, but you were on guard. Your fingers began to twitch anxiously. Something was definitely off. Or maybe you were overthinking—no, better to be cautious.

You needed a weapon.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the cot and slid over to the bassinet across the room. Gently, you placed her in it. You then went toward the exit and stepped out into the dark hallway. There was nothing but silence. You tried so desperately not to focus on that.

Your hunting knife was in the tank room. Which was closer than your room, where your bow and spear were. So, you decided to go for the knife. You couldn’t risk leaving the baby alone for too long.

Something moved at the end of the hall. You stopped and pressed yourself against the wall. You waited until you continued forward and ducked into the tank room.

Your hunting knife was sitting on the table next to Grace’s avatar tank. Just as you grabbed it, a shadow dashed by the doorway.

Thankfully, you were unintentionally hidden behind one of the tanks. But you knew that shadow figure was larger than a human.

“Shit.” You whispered, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway. You poked your head out into the hallway. The shadow figure you saw before was slightly further down the hall, back turned to you.

As quietly as you could, you followed the figure and mimicked their movements. The figure went into the ambient room, and your heart lurched.

You followed him into the room, and from what little light you had, you could make out that the figure, the warrior, was wearing armor.

The Tipani warriors had broken into Hell’s Gate.

Good to know.

The little one made a small noise, drawing the attention of the warrior.

Your chest tightened. Before the warrior could move toward the bassinet, you lunged forward, brought your dagger to the warrior’s neck, and sliced as hard and as fast as you could.

But the warrior grabbed you by your knife hand and threw you over his shoulder and onto the ground. You grunted; the knife was now pressed against your neck.

The warrior’s eyes were blazing in the dark. “You will die, demon!” You understood enough of Na’vi to know what he had said.

You kept the blade away from going any further into your neck while grunting. “Take me then. But leave her alone!”

The warrior hissed but began choking. Drops of liquid--blood fell onto your face, and the warrior suddenly fell on top of you. You must’ve landed him in the neck pretty good then.

Quickly, you pushed him off of you and scrambled to your feet to check on the baby. Only to find her still asleep.

You sighed in relief. “Heavy sleeper, huh?”

With that, you tucked your knife in your shorts and gently took the baby from the bassinet. You placed her on the empty cot and removed your long-sleeve shirt and strapped it to your chest, creating a makeshift baby carrier.

“Alright, little one.” You whispered as you placed her in your makeshift carrier. “I’m gonna need you to be quiet for me. We’re gonna find your parents, and it might be a long trip.” She just nuzzled into your chest, and you nodded. “Glad we’re at an understanding.”

You left the ambient room. It was still too dark and quiet. So, you strained your ears as you walked, you watched for any movement, becoming a shadow yourself.

The hall broke off to the left. You gasped, hand quickly covering the baby’s head when you saw a body on the floor. It was a human.

They’re killing them. Neytiri had even said herself that they would see to it that the Sky People would either be exiled or killed.

Clearly, they went for the more brutal route.

You had to find the rest of the humans and make sure they were safe. All you could do was defend yourself until then.

You kept moving, ignoring the body and the bile building up in your throat. Saying anything was a risk; you didn’t want the rest of the warriors to figure out where you were. You didn’t want any of them getting their hands on her.

Halfway through the hallway, there was a shadow dashing out of a room. Two figures. You pressed yourself against the wall, holding your breath. One had a spear and the other a bow and arrow, we he yanked out of another body further down the hall. Neither of the warriors said anything and moved further down the hall. Lithe and dangerous. You soon moved forward.

There was a sound coming from the second body. You didn’t look down at first, that is, until you heard static coming from the body.

“—crack—Anyone there? Hello?”

Quickly, you crouched next to the body and searched it until you found the radio. You tucked it to your chest and ducked into the room the warriors left. While you slid to the floor into another crouched position and brought the radio to your lips.

“Hello?”

“Reeds?”

Your ears lifted. “Max? Max, where are you? Please, tell me there’s more of you still alive.”

The radio cracked for a bit. The baby squirmed a bit. She only seemed to stop and get comfortable when your hand cupped the back of her head. The small breaths against your bare clavicle gave you a bit of comfort.

“We’ve locked ourselves in the link room. Some of us are still in link beds, so we have to guard them.” The radio cracked a bit again. You pressed it to your ear to listen closer. “—go and find Jake. Tell him the clan’s found Hells’ Gate. We can’t kill them ourselves, or else we risk wa—”

But you didn’t hear the rest, eyes locked in an intense gaze with a Na’vi.

Fuck, they were so quiet.

Your mind spun.

Neither of you moved for what felt like forever when it was only a short few seconds. And during that time, your eyes caught sight of the ajar door just across from you that led outside. Which would’ve set off the oxygen alarms if not for the sudden power outage. And you realized—recognized that the door led to the compound.

You held the sleeping infant close to your chest and made a dash for the ajar door. The spear cut passed you, nicking your cheek as you made it outside. The sky was dark now—either from the storm or the day passing until the stars would come.

There was sudden shooting over your head. You looked dup while running to find a couple of avatars in trees with guns—your eyes widened as you remembered Max’s words.

“Don’t shoot!” You shouted up at them, waving your arms to get their attention. “Stop!”

By the time they looked your way and stopped shooting, both were instantly shot down by the arrows, falling from the trees.

“Fuck!” You hissed.

There was a fallen warrior near your garden with a bow next to him. You dodged the flying spears as you grabbed the bow and made a dash for the forest.

You passed the fallen avatars, yanking the arrows from their bodies.

There were calls further behind you, large shadows flew over your head—ikrans—toward their callers.

You found a pa’li and hopped onto its back. You wondered as the direhorse took off at your command, how fast they were compared to ikrans. Did it matter if you got a head start?

An arrow flew past your head. Glancing back, you saw a few warriors in armor on pa’li galloping after you, aiming their spears and arrows straight at your head.

“Fantastic.” You muttered with a roll of your eyes.

You looked down at the infant to find her large yellow eyes staring quietly at you.

“Huh, you’re awake now? I guess you would like the excitement.”

Another arrow flew past you, this time from your left. You snapped your head over your shoulder to find a warrior reloading her arrow.

But you drew yours first and shot.

The arrow zipped through the air into the warrior’s eye, knocking her off her pa’li.

And now there was one arrow left, you realized. You cursed.

Wasting that arrow wasn’t an option. So, you had to figure out how to lose your attackers.

Thunder clapped. And the bushes around you shuffled. You squinted your eyes as droplets of rain began to fall. Dark creatures were moving along the forest, in the trees, following you and the warriors.

There. That was how you’d lose them.

And it was a hell of a risk. But were there other options?

Truly?

So, you made as much as you could muster. Making the pa’li break large fallen branches, slushing through the creeks with a splash, and bustling through thick bush. Anything to gather the palulukans’ attention.

Multiple of them—a pack of them were either gunning it for you or the warriors that were right on your tail.

The pa’li jumped over a creak, you glanced over your shoulder just tin time to see most of the pack attack the warriors behind you, slowing them down. You turned to face forward, only to gasp when a palulukan pounced straight toward you.

Not again. Not with her.

You hugged the little one close to your chest, swerving the pa’li out of the way just in time, and booked it to the right.

You covered the infant’s head as you rode away from the palulukan. The pa’li took you long enough until you spotted a well-hidden link shack.

In haste, you jumped off the pa’li and dashed for the link shack entrance. The palulukan tried pouncing for you again, but you dodged out of the way and went for the door. You pushed it open, dived inside, and slammed it closed behind you.

A loud thud hit the shack, but the palulukan couldn’t get in. Especially when you locked it shut.

You placed the infant down on the cot in the corner. She instantly started crying when you were away from her.

“I know, sweetie. Just wait a second for me, okay?” You peered out the window to find the palulukan still roaming around the area, but there was no sign of the armored warriors.

When you were sure you were somewhat safe, you rushed over onto the cot. “Ssh, little one. I’ve got you, see? See? I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’m right here with you.” After putting down your bow and your last arrow, you lifted her, her little tail wagging behind her. “You hungry, bubba? I think I still have your formula.”

Her cries weren’t as loud when you held her again. And once you searched through your bag and took out the extra formula—thank God for planning—she went back to staring at you curiously. You lay her down on the cot with you.

Her hands and arms moved blindly, as infants do. At some point, her fingers found your face.

“Getting comfy? I don’t know how long we’ll be here. We still gotta find your parents. No doubt they’re worried about you.”

You thumbed the spot between her brow again, settling her down a bit. You massaged her little head until she fell asleep. A gentle smile tugged on your lips when her fingers wouldn’t let go of yours. “You’re a clingy one, huh?”

Eventually, your eyes began to droop too, with the patter of rain in the background.

That is, until the radio in your bag came to life.

“Reeds? Are you there?”

Maybe it was exhaustion, but you could’ve sworn that was Jake’s voice. Next time he spoke, his voice quivered. “Does—Does anyone read me?”

You sat up and reached into your bag for your radio, glancing back to make sure the little one was still asleep.

You lay back down on the cot and brought it to your lips. “Reeds here. Now, where the hell are you, Sully?”

There was a beat of silence.

“She’s fine, by the way. Grace’s avatar went into labor. I got her out of Hell’s Gate. She’s safe. Promise.”

Another pause went by before he finally responded.

“And you? Are you okay?”

“Aw.” You responded dryly. “Worried about me? Sully,  you’re goin’ soft on me.”

“Yes,” Jake responded bluntly. “Is that so hard to believe? That I want you to be okay?”

Your eyes were getting droopy. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “I’m—I’m not the best at showing it…It’s just nice to hear your voice. To know that both my girls are okay.” You were too tired to respond, and fortunately, he didn’t wait for one. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time. The signal’s gonna go bad soon—but when the storm comes, we’ll come to get both of you, okay? Reeds—”

The line turned to static. And you fell asleep.

Something gentle fluttered against the side of your head. Wind? A hand?

Wait. A hand.

Warriors.

Slowly, you moved your fingers from the baby’s grasp and slid it under your pillow for your dagger.

Once your hand had a sure grasp on the hilt, you launched up and aimed your knife at your attacker.

Only for a hand to catch your wrist instantly.

“You just tried to kill me.” You blinked, your haziness fading into the smug expression of Tsu’tey.  His grip on your wrist tightened when you tried to pull away. “Good. At least some of your training stuck.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed uncommittedly before throwing your arms around his neck in a hug.

︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿

Every day you learn something new, right?

Well, that day you learned that the only way to keep the boys quiet, entertained, and pretending to be good people was to take them to a beauty salon. Which wasn't part of your plan, because you had never offered to take them to one before.

But since you were planning on going, and Romance had found out (and was apparently incapable of keeping a secret), now you were all going together as a happy family.

At first, the idea horrified you. It was exactly what you wanted to avoid. All you needed was a little time alone, relaxed, ALONE… but apparently that was impossible.

Your plan was to get your nails, maybe have a treatment to soften your skin… A gift from you to you.

Out of all the Saja Boys, the only one who hadn't insisted on accompanying you, and who had even argued that you deserved to make plans on your own, was Minjun. But, as the rest decided to turn a deaf ear, you decided that Minjun was the one who deserved to go the most (and the only one you would pay for whatever he wanted to do).

On the way there, you explained the possible treatments and services they could choose from. Abby had heard the term ‘laser hair removal’ and couldn't think of anything else (probably because of the word ‘laser’, because you knew he had no idea what 'hair removal' really involved), while Romance wanted a moisturising treatment on his face and hands to, according to him, rejuvenate himself by 200 years. Baby wasn't very interested in any of it, but he wouldn't say no to a massage, and neither would Jinu. Minjun, on the other hand, had decided that he wanted to do whatever you were going to do.

… so now you were sitting in a chair with your feet soaking and Minjun sitting silently in the chair next to you doing God knows what on his mobile phone.

At least you were at ease.

Across from Minjun was an elderly lady also getting a pedicure who kept glancing at the boy out of the corner of her eye.

"Excuse me, young man," she said suddenly, getting your attention and making him look up from his mobile phone and turn towards her. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

.... what

WHAT DID YOU SAY, MADAM?

Minjun slowly shook his head and turned his attention back to his mobile phone. You managed to see the screen for a split second and discovered that he was playing Subway Surfers.

"You see," continued the old woman, as if the demon hadn't just turned away and clearly given up on the conversation. "My granddaughter must be about your age and she's single too… and you're so handsome… would you like me to introduce you?"

This time, Minjun turned to you. He tilted his head to one side, and then you understood exactly what was going on: he had no idea how to respond to the gossipy old woman without being rude.

"He's gay," you replied bluntly. "He's my best gay friend. Please leave him alone. Not only is he gay, but he also has social anxiety," you said as you scribbled something in your notebook.

Minjun opened his mouth to complain, but seeing that the woman had turned redder than a strawberry and had decided not to get involved with them any further and to stop talking to them, he decided to let it go. You had already explained to him what little white lies were, and he understood perfectly that this situation must be one of them.

Because you knew he wasn't gay, right?

As soon as you both finished your pedicures, you moved on to the manicure: your favourite part. You chose a pastel shade to match what they would be wearing for their debut, and Minjun opted for a design with pastel pink and lilac nails, without any decorations.

You thought it was adorable how he watched the whole procedure in complete silence, his mouth slightly open. You had learned the hard way that there were no beauty salons in hell, so you were pretty sure Minjun had never seen a place like this before, neither experienced a cute manipedi.

While you were getting your manicures in silence, Baby had decided it was time to confront Jinu… in the massage room.

"I didn't know you and (Y/N) got along so well, Jinu," he began. His voice sounded slightly muffled as he lay face down on a massage table.

"That's because we don't," replied Jinu, lying on the table next to him.

The masseuses had left them to rest and let their skin absorb the oils used during the massage, so they were alone there.

"So, what were you doing with her on the street yesterday?" he asked, clenching his hands tightly. "It's not for nothing, but you looked like a couple."

Byeol didn't quite understand, or didn't want to understand, why it bothered him so much. But when he saw you on the street the previous afternoon, on his way back from shopping… and then he saw Jinu… something inside his chest tightened.

And he didn't like how he felt at all.

When he saw you, happy, listening to music and drinking something that looked like real junk, he had thought about crossing the street with Minjun and saying hello. After all, you were more than just partners, weren't you? You were his personal critic and proofreader.

But then, you bumped into Jinu… and…

Just thinking about it made his hands sweat.

How Jinu grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. How he came close to you as if he was going to smash his face into yours. How he drank from your drink…

And how you stood there completely still, maybe even terrified.

If that was Jinu's way of teasing you, Byeol didn't find it funny at all. It wasn't the same when Dasom did it as when he did. It was completely different.

He felt Jinu tense up beside him.

"Nothing. We ran into each other by chance and I wanted to tease him a little. Nothing new, right?"

"Jinu…" Byeol had so many questions. He had so many things he wanted to say, but at the same time, he didn't dare to. "You should stop teasing her like that."

That comment hit Jinu like a bucket of cold water.

Why should he stop teasing her when everyone else did? Besides, it wasn't teasing in a mean way… just jokes. You did it too, back to them. Why was it wrong now?

"Tomorrow we'll become public figures, Jinu. And (Y/N) has explained to us a hundred times that we can't be seen in public with girls in that… way. It could cause a stir and ruin our reputation. I'm not going to let you throw away all the effort we've put in so far."

"But you know she doesn't count. She's our manager."

"No," Baby denied, rising slightly from the table to get a better look at Jinu, whose back was tense. "She's our producer. And rumours are rumours, Jinu. You should know that by now."

He got up from the table, holding the towel that covered him from the waist down tightly, and ruffling his hair in frustration, he left the room and headed for the dressing room.

He didn't want to argue with his friend, but he didn't want him to hurt you. You were his… friend? You were something. Something to him… and he didn't want you to get hurt. You were responsible, strong and independent, but no one is made of stone. And he was aware of how Jinu looked at you when you weren't paying attention… and he didn't like it.

He didn't like that it could change the course of the plan. It was a distraction.

He didn't like that he treated you like a toy, like a joke, even after spending so much time with you. He couldn't deny that teasing you was fun, but… he was starting to see that playing with you like that could end badly.

And he didn't want to lose you.

Abby limped out of the waxing salon. Although he had loved the futuristic glasses he had been given to wear during the laser treatment, from then on it had been a bit of a nightmare. At what point had he decided he wanted to have the damn laser done all over his body? Even the soles of his feet were stinging.

When he got to the reception area, only Baby and Romance were there. Jinu didn't take long to arrive, but instead of waiting for Mystery and you, he paid what he owed and left. He didn't look relaxed at all, if we are being honest.

Shortly after, Myst and you showed up. You were talking to him very animatedly and gesturing a lot to show off your new nails, and he just listened to you and nodded occasionally, his full attention on you.

To him, specially today, you looked extremely cute.

On the way back to the flat, the boys walked ahead, chatting animatedly about their experiences at the salon (and traumas, according to Abby), while you, lagging a little behind, checked the notifications on your mobile phone. You already had the website for the Saja Boys fanbase ready, a lightstick designed… all that was left was for tomorrow to arrive without too many ups and downs.

Which you should have known was asking too much.

"Excuse me," said a voice next to you that you didn't recognise.

When you looked up from your phone, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. He was young and quite handsome, but nothing compared to the five Greek gods you unfortunately lived with and who tested your patience every day.

"Do you need anything?"

"Yes," he said with a smirk, "your number."

Mentally, you short-circuited. What was this idiot thinking? You couldn't hit him, that was wrong… (even if it was the solution you had come up with for your problems with the Saja Boys).

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested right now…"

"Are you sure? I think we could… get along really well." He finished his remark with a wink and stood in front of you, abruptly blocking your way.

The boys realised something was going on when they saw you weren't walking behind them anymore, and their suspicions were confirmed when they saw the look of disgust on your face as some unknown guy was talking to you. Was he… hitting on you?

"Look…" you began, searching for a valid excuse. The two best ones were always that you were interested in women or that you already had a boyfriend. "I have a boyfriend… and…"

"And…?" asked the boy as he raised his hand towards your face.

Shit. You should have chosen the lesbian option.

Baby and Romance tensed up, ready to jump at his throat in your defence (he was clearly breaking the first rule), and Abby stepped forward with his fists clenched, ready to land a right hook on his jaw… but before the stranger could lay a hand on you, Mystery appeared at your side, quick as a flash, and stepped between you and the stranger, wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders.

"Sorry, mate. But I AM her boyfriend, and I'd appreciate it if you left her alone."

The stalker's eyes widened when he saw him so close to you, hugging you without you doing anything to stop him.

"Oh," was all he said, slowly taking his hand away.

"I do not share, sorry" said Myst, hugging you a little harder.

Your heart was racing. Without using violence, defending yourself wasn't that easy as you thought… You were grateful to Myst for helping you, but standing there, so close to him, with his arm around you, holding you steady and safe (making you feel safe and sound even though you knew perfectly that he was indeed a DEMON)… you could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and you felt an overwhelming urge to hug him back.

He had never been so close to you, and he had done it to defend you from a jerk… (although you could have quickly settled the matter with a right hook to the jaw, Abby style). You were grateful.

Seeing that the stranger was still standing there, looking back and forth between the two of you, Mystery… barked at him. Like an angry dog.

Startled, the stranger turned and ran down the street, embarrassed and frightened, away from you.

You couldn't help but laugh as you patted him on the back.

"It's over, it's over," you said, "the bad guy's gone, shhh," you stroked his head to stop him from barking, growling and wriggling "good boy, good boy. You deserve a treat."

"Hey, I want some love on my hair too!" Abby shouted with her arms crossed. "And I want a treat too!"

You gave them a smile. A sincere one.

Even though they drove you crazy… even though they were ruthless little devils… they were all you had in this new life. And you were grateful for that.

"You know what? Let's finish relaxing in the best place in the world, the bathrooms! A treat for all of us!"

You had to explain what bathrooms were and why they were so amazing… and you also had to make it very clear that you would have to bathe separately, and that they had to behave while you weren't watching them. You made them swear that under no circumstances would they enter the women's bathrooms. Not to snoop around, not to steal souls, not to look for potential fans, not for any excuse they could come up with.

You left Baby in charge, because you trusted him to be the one who could most easily keep the rest under control.

"By the way, guys, where's Jinu?"

Baby shrugged, briefly recalling their conversation.

"He took off, who knows where," said Romance.

"But… can we go to the bathrooms without him? We don't even know if he'll be back," added Abby playing with his fingers.

You nodded with a smile.

"Sure, let's go."

As you entered the women's bathroom, your hair tied up and wrapped in a towel, your torso covered by another, you instantly relaxed. The warmth, the scent of essential oils… That was probably one of the things you missed most about the human world.

You cleansed yourself, washing away the sweat of the day, and then proceeded to step into a bath when…

…why did those two girls sound so familiar?

Your heart sank and your head began to spin as you tried to understand where you had gone wrong.

This couldn't be happening.

Mira and Zoey were up to their necks in one of the bathtubs, talking in low voices about how disastrous Golden's presentation had been because Rumi had left. They were worried about her, they didn't know where she had gone… but what were they doing there?

Then you understood.

Since Rumi was the main character, you never knew what Zoey and Mira had been doing since Rumi disappeared until she returned to the HUNTR/X tower. And how lucky you were to discover that they had decided to go relax in the baths… the same ones you had decided to go to.

You looked down at your arms, where some of your patterns glistened from time to time. It was imposible to hide them.

Right there, with them, you were like a walking target. It wouldn't be difficult for them to recognise you as a demon (because technically you were one), you wouldn't have time to explain yourself (and you didn't really know how to), and as much as you liked to solve things with violence, you weren't the one to defend them. They were too strong for you. You turned away discreetly, trying to avoid them at all costs. You didn't know when they would come out, so running to the changing room was out of the question…

If only your demonic power was as strong as the boys' and you could teleport…

Suddenly, you had a revolutionary idea. A good way to hide was to use steam. And what better place for that than the sauna? Even if they came in, it would be difficult for them to make out your patterns in all the steam… so you decided to get into the sauna, even if it was just to stall for time until they left the bathrooms.

You were dying to talk to them, but it wasn't the right time or place. And you didn't want to end up dead (again) because of something as silly as making new friends.

So you opened the sauna door and decided that, even if you had to wait for them to leave before you could take a bath, at least you could relax in the humid heat…

The minutes passed, and you couldn't tell if they were still in the bathrooms or had already left. The temperature in the room rose, and you sweated more and more. A couple of stray strands of hair that had escaped from your towel now stuck to your face, the back of your neck and your back. You tried to take a deep breath, to calm down and think.

You were afraid to go out and run into them.

You were afraid of screwing up in such a stupid way after all your effort… besides, you weren't ready to abandon the Saja Boys like this. You hadn't solved anything yet, damn it. You hadn't changed anything yet. You needed time.

You just had to hold on a little longer. You tried to control your breathing and your heartbeat, which was slowing down. Dangerously.

A little longer… just a little longer…

Your head was starting to hurt from the heat and dehydration. Black spots swirled around the edges of your vision, clouding your sight slightly.

Just a little longer…

When you get out, you'd dive into the bathroom, drink two litres of water… Cold, cold water...

But if you held on a little longer… would you be able to stand up? To walk to the exit?

You threw your head back, trying to find the air that was missing from your lungs. Everything was burning. You were very hot, thirsty, tired… your vision began to blur. Your head was spinning…

You couldn't faint. If you fainted and HUNTR/X was still there, you'd be finished. And it would all have been for nothing.

You tried to rub your eyes with your hands, but you were starting to lose the strength to lift them.

You had to get out of there.

Right now.

If you didn't, the result would be the same as if Zoey or Mira saw your patterns.

How long had you been in there?

You had been there too long… too long…

Your head was spinning round and round and round…

Everything became blurry… and slowly your vision darkened.

You tried to get up, but your body tilted to one side, falling onto the bench, as you lost consciousness.

That had clearly been a terrible idea.

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A/N: SO! WHAT DO YOU THINK? HOW IS READER GOING TO GET OUT? IS SHE GOING TO GET FOUND OUT? We'll find out in the next chapter!! (already working on it btw). Is she going to save herself or... is somebody... going to help her? 👀 What do you think is going to happen? hehehehe

Hope you like it as much as the previous chapters! Can't wait to read you back my dear readers <3

Thank you for reading, for all your support and kind words. Remember that those comments, likes and reblogs help me a lot as motivation! :)

You knew what it's like to be loved.

You grew up with a famous actress for a mother, hidden away in your grandparent's home. Although you see your mother on the screen of your television more than in person your grandparents would always remind you that she deeply loves you. And sweet little you believed them. Because when your mother takes off her wig and all that flashy clothes to come home to your humble house in the countryside, she'd shower you with gifts and kisses. At night she'll spend what little time you have together, sleeping in your bed whispering I love you's to your sleeping form. She'd cry and hug you tightly when she had to leave you behind for her Gothamite Socialite life.

The void left behind by your mother would be filled by your grandparents. With pillow forts, tea parties, picnics and little cheers for your dances. You never knew what it was like to be unloved.

One night after your Grandpa tucks you in and gives you your kiss goodnight, deep in your slumber you never knew how your mother came home crying that night.

Your beloved mother cried about missing you. About how much she can no longer take leaving you behind just to keep her career. Of how much she wanted to bring you to Gotham and raise you there instead.

The next day you were happily surprised by your mother's presence. Your grandparents told you about how you will all be living together from now on, and oh how happy you were with that news.

The next month you had to blow a kiss goodbye to your old house, thanking it for all the memories it gave you.

It took some time to adjust. Gotham was much too crowded and much too busy than you were used to. Always too noisy too dark and just too much for sweet little you. Of course, your guardians noticed. No attentive parents would ever not notice your change of behavior.

One day your mother suggested a little outing, to show you how pretty Gotham can be.

If only you knew what a horrible idea that was.

Running people filled your vision as screams filled the air. Your grandfather picks you up to move faster together with the crowd. Then an explosion went off, shaking the ground and replacing the screams.

Gotham police had to dig you out from under the dead bodies of your family

You the sole survivor, was only saved by being shielded by the people that loved you most.

That's why half-hearted attempts will never be enough.

An old man dressed in black picked you up at the police station that day. Commissioner Gordon told you your father will be picking you up. You didn't know the man. Your grandfather made sure you'd never longed for fatherly love.

"Are you my father?" you asked

"No young master," the man replied "I'm Alfred unfortunately Master Bruce is unable to be here today, but you will be meeting him later"

Your humble quiet house in the countryside now replaced with a city, a mansion, cold and dark. Your loving mother that you rarely saw now replaced by a father that not only do you barely see despite the fact that you live together, but the only affection he'd give you are material things. No more hugs and kisses, no more sweet I love you's.

Your beloved grandparents now replaced by two older brothers. One introduces himself as Dick who no longer lives in the lonely Wayne manor. While the other, Jason was it? Doesn't have enough time to spare.

At least Alfred was there, but you were not a priority in his eyes. You don't come home bloodied, bruised, needing stitches or dying. You try to understand, but you can't help but miss your grandfather's goodnight kiss.

No more building pillow forts, no one to attend your tea parties, no picnics would be had on the garden, and not a single pair of eyes to watch you dance.

All you have are toys absentmindedly bought, apologies and promises of next times that never comes.

Jason for example promised to one day take you shopping just you and him. His funeral came before that outing.

Bruce have even less time to think of you for he's busy mourning his son.

You mourned the what if's and what could've been. You've wondered if you were closer, would you have cried harder that day?

You wanted to comfort your father, you've lost loved ones too. However before you could even try to reach out, there your father was, attending to a new member of the house.

"This is Tim," he said "he'll be living with us from now on."

Since your father is distracting his grief by taking care of Tim instead, you've set your sights on your new older brother.

"No offense but everything you wanna do is boring," Tim said when you suggested watching a movie together "watch it if you want just stop bothering me already."

You were a child filled with so much love, that you have much to give.

You strive to make your father proud, you excelled in academics and an exceptional ballerina. None of which your father ever cared enough to pay attention to.

You would talk to Dick every time he visits, trying to make him agree to just one sibling bonding you could think of. Only to be brushed aside with an apology and a promise of a next time that he's just too busy to ever fulfill.

You would clean after Tim, check on him and make sure he'd get some sleep or have fresh coffee. You'd try your best to not be a bother to him.

You would help Alfred around the house, with cooking most of the time. To which you'd received a thank you for and sometimes a headpat that makes your heart giddy. Small affection that you used to have in abundance.

When Alfred is too busy attending to his priorities you'd find yourself sitting on the grave of Jason. Telling his headstone little stories. Most of the time it's about what if's and maybe's, it's sad to think that you spend more time with him dead than when he was alive.

'Well maybe it's not too late'

Lightning cracked across the sky that night, illuminating the man that broke one of the kitchen windows. There he stood soaking wet, older and bigger than you remembered. Thunder followed making your heart beat faster, were you being haunted or was studying so much making you hallucinate?

"Jason?" You called

As if the name was a curse he was trying to run away from, the man vanished as suddenly as he appeared.

You ran to Bruce that night. Telling him what you saw, but instead of looking into it, you were only scolded, the only attention he'd given you in years. It was insensitive he'd claimed. And even when you were proven right your father never apologized.

When all that love runs out, you are left with deep longing

You were eventually introduced to your half-brother. Oh how excited you were to finally have your own younger sibling. Poor naive you, not knowing that the only thing you'll receive from Damian is a broken arm.

"It would be better if you avoid Master Damian for now." Alfred said by your bedside "Please understand that he's been through a lot"

All you were able to do was nod your head.

You would sometimes catch the family fussing over Damian, it hurts to think that Dick suddenly has all the time in the world for him.

You could never hate Damian for that but you can't stop a broken heart. So once just once.

'Please, please just have time for this one thing'

You sent everyone an invitation to a recital. 'Ugly Duckling Ballet' it said. The day came, and you did such a masterful performance, yet not one of the people clapping were your family.

Tears fell from your eyes as you ran away from the school auditorium.

You ran and ran, not knowing where your legs would take you. Until you stumble upon the art club room. You didn't know why you would run to this specific place, but you didn't care. The next thing you did made you question who you inherited such a destructive temper from.

Canvases ruined, broken easels and paintbrushes lay on the ground. Cans of paint spilled from the wall to the floor. Your hair a mess and your tutu ruined by paint. Every part of you was marred with paint. Your hair and hands splattered with every color paint the art club has available when you went and forcebly opened every single one of them. But those were nothing compared to your shoes. Your ballet shoes now ruined by the layers of paint. You didn't care, it's not like you'll ever wear a pair of ballet shoes ever again.

The next day was nerve-wracking, now that you come to your senses you are filled with guilt and nervousness. You feel bad for the art club members and now you are waiting outside the principal's office.

Well at least you'll see your father today.

But even that wish won't be fulfilled.

"You're better than this," the principal started "Just because your father can afford the damages and then some, doesn't mean you can go around destroying school property."

You can only sit there being eaten by guilt and look down at your hands.

"I understand that your father is a busy man, so we've talked to him on the phone for a compromise for now you'll be temporarily removed from the ballet club, but anymore of this behavior and expect a suspension."

You guessed having a Goody two-shoes reputation is a good thing, but guilt is still eating at you. You eventually find yourself in the art clubroom, now with students that you assumed are part of the art club cleaning up and trying to salvage what they can. It's not long until one of them notices you.

"Are you here to break more stuff again?" one of them angrily asked

Another student calmed them down, redirecting their attention to cleaning up before approaching you and closing the door behind them.

Now it's just you two in the empty hallway of the school.

"I'm sorry," you started "my family will be replacing everything and-and I'll help clean up too I'm just--I'm sorry I didn't mean to---"

"Hey calm down," they cut you off "besides the cleaning we'd be happy to get brand new stuff." they said attempting to lighten the mood.

You feel tears falling from your eyes again, and you went to wipe them off with your hands

'You shouldn't be crying you're not the victim here'

"I'm sorry I-- god I'm such a horrible person."

"Hey it's ok," they tried calming you down "I uhm-- we still have your painting, I know you're temporarily banned from ballet so do you wanna join the art club?"

"..what?"

"I mean just while you're waiting for the ban to be lifted."

And when even all that longing runs out, hate is the only thing left behind.

You never ended up going back to ballet, your family seems to be uninterested with dances anyway. But you knew they liked art, they went to so many galas about art or whatever after all. You even started taking home your paintings now, for the whole family to enjoy. And it seems that you were right, after all here you are busily preparing for an exhibit that Dick promised to come to. So you made sure to make the painting of Nightwing the biggest and most detailed among all of them.

Oh poor poor you, the day came and ended and here you were in a now empty gallery. Where your paintings are now carted to a vacant store room, to be sent back to you're school because dear old you refused to sell any of them until Dick sees it.

But where is dear big brother Dick now you wonder? Well when you went to check up on him to make sure nothing bad happened to him making him unable to come, there was a little notification that popped on your screen.

Oh was it Dick telling you he couldn't make it? Or an explanation that he had an accident or at least an apology? No none of that.

It was a notification that Dick posted, a picture of him and all of the family, in what looks like a theater-like setting. With dear Cassandra on a pretty white tutu. Tears welled up in your eyes as you read the caption filled with nothing but pride and congratulations for Cassandra for her performance.

It seems you were wrong after all. Ballet was never the issue.

You threw your phone at the paintings. At least this time the only stuff ruined would be the ones you made.

The unappreciated one.

Uncelebrated.

Unloved.

It is only when you hit a sewing kit spilling ribbons and beads onto the broken painting on the floor, did you snap out of your blind rage.

You ruined Nightwing's painting the most that night because at least everyone else had the decency to not give you false hope.

Once all that hate for them runs dry, where else would your feelings take you?

You went to college early, you made sure that the art school you're going to would get you away from the cold Wayne manor for awhile. The first step in moving on is literally moving in your opinion.

Now here you are busily working on your project. You've set up a mirror, you've never made a self-portrait before so you wanted to make sure it's perfect.

You started a sketch, planning out the position, the hair and the proportion, however, the more you worked on it the more it feels like you're more familiar with what you're working on than you originally thought.

You stopped sketching, unceremoniously dropping the pencil onto the floor as you went to grab the mirror.

You've never done self-portraits before, it's not something you were ever interested in painting. You stared hard at your own face, searching and scanning for answers on what made it so familiar to you, other than the fact that it's the face you see in the mirror every day.

And oh dear you, you went and wounded yourself breaking that mirror when you found out.

You have his face.

Bruce's face

I mean yes you have the color of your mother's eyes and hair, but the shape of your face and eyes, your nose and lips, all Bruce's.

It's so so sad to know that you were so focused on painting him that you are only now noticing this fact.

You have a long way to go from moving on it seems.

When all emotions through the years left nothing but a forgettable aftertaste you realize that the opposite of love isn't hate

"Young master what are you doing!?" A panicked Alfred called as he came running with a fire extinguisher for the currently on-fire pile you have going on the back of Wayne Manor.

"Relax Alfred," you said "just doing a little bit of cleanup is all"

"You can't just start a fire!" He exclaimed as he put out the fire "I will dispose of these myself young master."

"Oh come on Alfie I know you have so much on your plate as it is"

"Nonsense, I'll be taking care of this and that is final."

You laughed "If you say so, Alfred."

You never truly let go until you understand that indifference is what makes you happy

You packed what few remaining things you wanted to keep. You've said goodbye to Alfred (and him alone). You graduated top of your class, now it's time for you to continue your life elsewhere.

You looked back one final time.

three

four

five

six

You were excited and that excitement lasted precisely two weeks. Damian and you had been close all your life, being twins kind of facilitated that. You trained together, ate together, read together, you spent the majority of your life together. You had each other's back; he was your solace and companion, your best friend. No one else in the world would ever get you like him. That's part of the reason Talia sent both of you. Growing up, no one could ever separate the two of you, not even your grandfather....well, that was until a certain Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne entered your lives.

Unlike your twin, you had no interest in being part of the vigilante business. It was well known that both of you were different in your character. Where Damian was brash, you were softer; he was ruthless, you were diplomatic; he was violent and cunning, you were elegant and merciful. That distinction was what made your grandfather direct Damian to be the heir of the Demon head. You were glad that you were away from the League as it would help you create an identity that didn't directly come from them and that became a problem.

Sure, it was two that came to stay at Wayne Manor, but only one was integrated into the family. It was disappointing, to say the least. Bruce favored Damian and whenever you tried to call him out on it, he'd blame it on the fact that Damian needed more help. As if it wasn't the two of you that came from the same place. Sure, you were tame and gentle, but you were just as Damian. The League didn't train an assassin and a princess. No, they had honed two weapons. Dick followed Bruce in that same thought process and it got even worst once he had to fill in as Batman temporarily. As much as he clashed heads with Damian, Tim enjoyed going par to par with his new brother. Jason knew both of them back when he was resurrected. You loved him as if he were your brother as well and you thought that it was reciprocated...until you roamed the halls of the manor and realized he never joked around with you the same way he did with Damian. You wanted to blame it on the fact that they were boys and maybe that got them to get along better...but it wasn't just that was it...Cassandra loved to bond with Damian because they were both child assassins but so! were! You! Stephanie loved to ruffle his hair and call him Little Bat, and Barbara would sit and try to explain modern terminology with him and laugh when he found it absurd. It didn't make sense.

Both of you went through the same thing, yet you had to understand why he needed more help and attention and love than you. It devastated you. You had read online that it was good to find healthy outlets to let out your frustrations, so you decided to find extracurriculars. Maybe if you required attention, it would be given to you, right? I mean, Robin was Damian's extracurricular in a way, right?

You took up ice skating. You found beauty in the sport and given that you had training, you were excelling at it. Given that your father was a busy man, he was never one to take you to practice. He just paid for the coach, the team, the skates, the outfits, and all the fees necessary. Alfred, may he be blessed, was your solace and would often be found taking you to practices and would stay for support. You had great potential for someone of such a young age and your coaches would never fail to remind you. Your first competition came and you were through the roof with excitement. You would talk Damian's ear off, who always made time for you regardless of what was happening around the house. You would mention it in passing to anyone who would engage in even the smallest of conversations with you. You went as far as printing the competition flyers and sticking them on Bruce's desk, the Batcomputer, and the fridge. Surely, no one would forget.

Oh, you poor thing...no one came besides Alfred. Damian and Bruce had some sort of mission; Dick was in Bludhaven; Jason was too busy with the Outlaws, Tim had a Wayne Enterprise meeting, Barbara had made plans that day with Stephanie and Cass and they couldn't be changed. Had they not heard you? Did they not see the flyers? The only one had the decency to apologize was Damian, but he was your brother, your twin, of course, he didn't mean to miss it. You had won gold and your teammates had invited you to eat out. When you ran all the way to where your family was supposed to be, you only saw Alfred with a beautiful flower bouquet.

Having seen your disappointed face, he quickly made a mental note to scold everyone later tonight and tried to cheer you up.

"Marvelous, miss Y/n! Simply wonderful. I don't think I had ever been delighted by such a choreography before" He praised and you took it to heart, giving him a smile. That night he allowed you to stay later, having one of your teammate's mother bring you back from the restaurant.

This didn't change over time. Competitions and practices with Alfred only. After that first competition, Damian would try to at least go to your practices but that lessened as time passed and he was needed as Robin. Forgotten competitions turned to forgotten birthdays it seemed. After a year, when your birthday came around, you were ecstatic knowing that your favorite day of the year and you would celebrate it with your favorite person in the whole world. That day, your friend's parents had asked Alfred if they could surprise you in the morning with something special and then leave you in the Manor during the afternoon so that you would have time with your family. Seeing how loved you were outside of your family, Alfred agreed.

You were positive that your day was going to be perfect. Damian had woken you up and you both exchanged gifts first thing in the morning, just like you did in the League. He had gotten you a new pair of skates and you had gotten him a bunch of new art supplies. You ate breakfast with Damian and forced Alfred to sit with you both and eat as well. You went along with your day, having Alfred tell you that you had a special surprise. He had taken you to the park where your friends and their parents awaited you with a surprise picnic. Soon the afternoon neared and you were in the limo telling Alfred about the wonderful morning you were having. To into in your story, you failed to see his worried and pitiful gaze. As you went into the Manor, hands full of gifts from your friends and cheeks hurting from laughing and smiling so much, you were met with a sight that broke your heart.

Damian blowing the candles of a cake with your entire family surrounding him, clapping and singing. Your face, just like your heart, fell. You look up at Alfred and whisper, "Did you know?"

To which he responded in a soft voice, "No, my dear, I was helping your friends plan your party. The bake, I did do, but I thought we would wait for you..."

With eyes glazed with unshed tears, you nodded and it took seeing Damian's small smile as Dick bearhugged him to know...you weren't part of them.

You had begun to separate yourself from them and Damian had noticed. He had tried to apologize for your birthdays but you wouldn't listen. What kind of person would forget their twin? After some time, he stopped trying. The ridge between you had started to grow and if you were being stubborn, he wouldn't waste his time.

---

Weeks passed. Months passed. And little old Y/n had been forgotten. Dick was always too busy and only knew how to say "Not now, kid." Jason would wave to you on occasion. You weren't sure if Tim was even aware that you still lived there. Cass only spared you a glance. Stephanie looked pained if you ever tried to talk to her. Barbara was too awkward around you. Bruce had never really tried much with you and that was clear from the start. Damian felt distant each day more and more. Your only solace was ice skating, Alfred, and your mom. Weeks after your birthday, you had sneaked out and contacted your mother. She arrived as soon as she could. She would never deny her baby girl. I mean, the world always wanted Damian, but she, she was hers. There, Y/n told her everything as she broke down into tears. She had been the perfect daughter and sister, yet it would never matter cause they didn't care. Talia, clearly bothered by this, promised to talk with Bruce and Damian yet Y/n reassured her that Alfred had tried so many times and it had never worked. With the promise of finding a solution that didn't involve Bruce or Damian, her mother left.

After a few weeks, Y/n would notice that the watching eyes of her mother would be on her during practice and competitions. It was good to have one parent there. She wouldn't be able to attend most of the time, but she made an effort. Alfred caught her once when she was giving you flowers and Y/n begged for him to keep it a secret.

It was good to have something.

---

Years passed. Birthdays were spent having breakfast with Alfred, avoiding her twin, out with her friends, and occasionally, sneaking out to see her mother. Y/n wasn't heartless, though. Every year she would sneak a present that normally came from her and their mother into Damian's room. He was still her beloved twin after all. She had gotten used to competitions with little company. Even when she had won an award for being a prodigious skater, it was Alfred, the flowers he had bought her, and the ones her mother had sneaked into her house. She was fine, she claimed. Being ignored and forgotten didn't sting her heart as much as it did before, and she definitely didn't cry every time one of her siblings passed by her and acted as if they bumped into a piece of furniture. Hearing Damian refer to Cassandra as sister and only call her by her name didn't shatter her heart, no it only made her so unfocused in practice that she fell in the middle of her choreography. Coming back home after a day with her friends and seeing all of the decorations for Damian's birthday didn't slowly kill her on the inside anymore, no she just played music super loud when she took showers so no one would hear her sobs.

The breaking point? Duke Thomas.

She didn't have something against him directly, no. It was his arrival. Seeing her supposed family, her twin, welcome him with open arms broke her absolutely. Seeing them dine with him, joke around with him, smile with him, celebrate with him, and love him shattered her. It had been five years of this torment and she couldn't bear it anymore. So...she made a call.

"Mother....I think I want to go home.."