□Mara□

I stand there, watching him, taking in what he's just said to me.

He said my name. How the hell does he know my name? I don't know - I might not want to know.

I swallow, trying to seem relaxed rather than completely in fight or flight mode. I try my best to stay emotionless, to not give anything away, but it's hard to when the man takes two steps closer to me.

"Oh," he says, then taking two steps back, "oh, my dear, I'm so sorry, I didn't properly introduce myself. I'm a frenemy of your father's - it's a family thing I guess you could say. I know I know, he probably hasn't introduced me to you yet, but don't worry, I know you."

And then he smiles, and steps into the light of the streetlight. And I see his face. I see his hair. I see his eyes.

I see his smile.

I see his scars.

He looks fucked up. Like, really fucked up.

He tilts his head and smiles wider, the makeup on his face staying perfectly in place as he does, with how much he has on.

God, if he didn't look like a clown and if he wasn't trying to kill me, I would've asked him for tips on his makeup skills.

He licks his lips, pulling me back to reality, and suddenly I feel the need to shrink down and curl into a little ball, thinking of the things he could do to me that won't kill me.

Bad things. Things that I hear about on the news. Things that happen to women and girls. Things that the woman gets blamed for -- for "asking for it", or "wearing something too revealing".

And then my head really starts to spin, and I hate what it tells me.

I don't want my family, not my male family. Not right now.

Right now I want my mother, and I hate myself for that. One step towards her means taking two steps away from the family I have -- from the door I've tried to conceal for years.

"What happened to your face?" It comes out barely louder than a whisper, and I immediately regret it. His face drops, and he grabs me roughly by the arm, and I try to squirm free, but a knife stops me. He holds it up to my neck, pressing  it against my skin slightly.

My whole body is frozen, not daring to make a move. I stare into his electric green eyes as he stares into my dull brown ones. He licks his lips again, and speaks, a cool, concealing tone conveying me to stay put.

"I think that's a story for another time, young lady. But if you truly want to know, then I will -," he stops abruptly, his face turning into a smile. It scares the shit out of me, how quickly he can go from emotion to emotion. How quickly he can go from a ticking time bomb to a regular talking psychopath.

He sighs, his grip on my arm tighter as he swiftly flips me around, my vision blurring. I still feel the blade against my throat, so I stay completely still as my vision comes to again.

At first, I see absolutely nothing but the street before us. The man rests his head near my ear, his breathing steady against the side of my head -- it disgusts me.

I swallow hard, my eyes closing and squeezing hard, fighting down the urge to throw up and scream all at one time.

Out of the blue, I find a sudden spark of pure rage in me, at the man, for even thinking of touching me, let alone breathing against me. I don't know where it comes from -- it just became.

And then I kick him, as my legs register they are free, and my hands go to the mans wrist, but before I can do anything else he kicks my leg and lets go of me, sending me barreling towards the ground.

I catch myself just moments before I would hit facefirst into the concrete, and swiftly kick my left leg around, trying to find something to hit.

My anger only grows as I hit something as hard as I can, and I look back, turning on my side as I see the man's body trip to the ground. It takes zero seconds for me to get up off the ground and just start running away, in any direction really.

And my runs gets me about four and a half concrete squares away from the man, when I run into something else, sending me flying back down to the ground. I hit it as I was turning my head, so my whole body is disoriented as my face regains any form of clarity, and I stumble back up, to run the other way.

I just let my feet go at random, taking me to my right a little, not realizing someone is standing in the middle of the street. I run into them too, but this time they grab onto me. I thrash against them, trying hopelessly to get away, but instead of pushing me back towards the man, they...push me behind them?

They pushed me back with so mucb force that I fall to the ground once again, and now it's ticking me off. My butt hurts, my leg hurts, my head hurts, and I can barely see shit.

A voice suddenly appears, most definitely not like the clownman's, and asks almost immediately, "are you alright?"

I still try to scramble away, but then something in my brain registers the voice to an owner. I stop dead as I crawl, looking up to the figure with wide eyes.

"Oh my - Damia- ?!" Before I can finish, he puts a hand to my mouth, shutting me up, and uses his free arm to lift me up and shove me away from the clownman.

I go with him freely, suddenly turning around to sprint away, not really having a plan of action as to where to go. But my brother yanks me one way, away from the chaos before and into the safety blanket of a dark alleyway.

Ok, maybe not a safety blanket, but still away from that man.

And then Damian grabs me roughly, making me face him, and even though I can barely see him, I can sense the look on his face.

"What the hell were you thinking sister?" He hisses, holding onto my shoulders extremely tightly. I squirm under his hands and under his words.

I swallow, trying to get my words straight, but they don't come out right.

"You- I..uh, you know, I just...well, I decided that -- um, uh-" I trail off quickly, trying to find something, anything to help my situation right now.

"You know what, don't say anything. You stay silent until you are in the safety of the cave, do you understand sister?"

And before I can answer, he's yanking me towards the end of the alleyway, which then beholds the father of all vehicles.

The Batmobile, of which I didn't think would be needed tonight, let alone I'd think I'd ever be riding in.

And then it hits me, just how seriously my actions were taken by my family. And then I realize how so fucking stupid I just am.

a/n - i was on vacation this whole week and had no internet if you didn't see my post earlier this week, so that's why i'm updating today. but i'm back and have a free range of internet (yay!). anyways, this was a shorter chapter, but yall, this next chapter is going to be longer and, i quote, "fun-filled". aka drAMA, fighting, and full overprotective angst galore! good luck, and i'm sorry in advance.