Social gatherings do not come easy.

They hadn't in the first place. It's hard to look into the eyes of someone who is only acknowledging you for the money you have and the power you hold.

Now, looking at them beaming back at me because of my arranged marriage makes it all the more worst.

My wrong-ring clad hand is wrapped around Richards, as we smile and greet the people who are attending our engagement party.

I thought it would be very suspicious for everyone to suddenly be invited to this, very hurriedly. That's when it was revealed to me that an invitation had been sent out way earlier than the contract signing.

Therefore, my father had been planning for this ages before I knew anything of it.

Every time I'm not being gawked at I take the chance to send him the ugliest glare I can.

There is a lull in the onslaught, and I take the chance to duck into a deserted corner. Unfortunately there is still something attached to my arm.

I throw an annoyed look up at my fiancé, but he isn't even looking at me. He's staring at the wall like he's catching his breath.

Through all my inner-turmoil, I had almost forgotten that I was not the only one going through this silly little stunt. I alone am not the centre. I may be the primary victim, but he's paying a price as well.

"It's weird," I say, drawing his attention, "I expected to see amore evil glint in everyone's eyes. Instead their faces are rather..."

"...curious," he says, finding exactly the right word. It's freaky.

"I didn't prepare for curious. Still, there will be some assholes, as there always are. You ready for that?" I ask. I don't know where the sudden conversational spirit in me comes from, but it arrives easily.

"I'm never ready for these things," he grins, looking at me with the dashing expression that must have girls dropping dead before him. Not me. Maybe if I see him in action he'll get somewhere.

"Well, I didn't even look at the guest list, so I beat you there. I'm pretty good at improvising though. If we run into any of my Aunts and they get to be too much I can rat out one of my sisters for something and they'll be off. You?"

Dick shrugs, "Any of my friends come by ignore them entirely?"

"That's not nice."

"Trust me, if you had friends like them you'd understand."

I don't have any friends, I want to say, but I don't. Instead I see the incoming hoard of three primly dressed young women.

My hand shoots out and grips Richard's immediately.

"Cleo! It's been so long!" The closest, a blonde with pin straight hair curtaining her face and fake-full lips comes straight for me, arms open.

"Hello!" I respond, my voice going oddly high as she hugs me.

"Congratulations!" The next girl with brown hair says, leaning in and kissing my cheek whilst gripping my hands.

"I knew you'd find someone perfect!" Says the last; a lighter blonde, who squeals and hugs me tighter than all the others.

"Who?" Dick whispers discreetly in my ear. I shrug.

"Honestly, Cleo! We didn't know you'd returned from wherever-stan until we saw you with your dad on TV!" The second girl says.

I think Richard flinches when I squeeze his hand tightly in mine. I know he looks down at me with concern, before coming up with an idea to save the situation.

"How do three know Cleo?" He asks, smiling, saving both of us.

"You mean Cleo hasn't told you about our crazy times in high school?" The middle girl says.

Crazy times?

High school?

Oh, Ashley, Holly and Ella?

I don't know which is which, but they are the girls who used to try to follow me around. Their dads work for my dad, so they must have been taught to worship the Perich name.

"Ella, Ashley, Holly and I went to school together. Remember? I told you about St Bridget's," I tell Dick, trying to send a thankful glint towards him.

"Oh! Of course. How are you?" Dick acts like he knows a ton, when he doesn't even know an ounce.

"We're good! Such a lovely party, Cleo! Your hotel is wonderful! I wish...." Blah blah blah. I keep nodding and smiling, like you do with your great Aunt who is slurring like a drunk.

Or, is that just my aunt?

I can see Grayson is doing the same thing, pretending to listen as they talk about our Senior Prom and how pretty I looked and whatnot. Something like that, anyway.

It gives me a chance to look down at my hand in his. The (wrong) engagement ring glistens in the setting sunlight. His hand is rough and calloused much like mine.

These hands that I'm holding are a nice size. Not too big and making me hand overheat, not to small and grippy to hold.

Unfortunately, they're just right.

For fuck's sake, who am I, Goldielocks?

Both Richard and I are eventually planning an escape route, the three airheads talking over each other, before all three abruptly halt their mindless jabbering.

We both follow their gazes to the door of the deck. 

When I see three hulking figures and two smaller ones looking around the room, obviously out of place because of well, because of many things, I feel my world shift.

"My engagement gift to you, lovely," a voice says in my ear. I turn to see Heather standing behind me.

Joining the party are my squad. Not all of them; just the ones who aren't in rehab, dead or missing.

They spot me and I couldn't care less what Hillary, Ayla and Alicia have to say; I drag my fiancée away and over to where my comrades are.

When they see me, all of them light up.

Christa, Hawaiian and energetic, comes at me first. She shouts my name as she leaps onto me, wrapping her arms and legs around me.

"Cleo!" She exclaims, wide smile with eyes tightly closed. I haven't seen these guys in a few months. They still have the same empty eyes as mine and wear clothes to hide the scars from the public, but they're still my team.

Jane, Cameron, Lief and Max are next. Every time I hug one of them it's gentle; more meaningful than all of the mindless affection I've had to fake to the other guests.

I think my arm attachment notices. Speaking of which...

"Uh, this is my fiancée, Richard," I tell them, gesturing to him.

These guys are my family- perhaps they know me even better than those who have my blood. 

Imagine me on one side of a battlefield and them on the other. We need to escape and I, the leader, have a plan. All it would take is a glance and they'd understand me, so I'm not surprised when they don't act like he's my all-loving, heartfelt fiancée.

What is enticing is the fact that compared to Max and Cameron, Richard is still huge in bulk and height, but Lief towers and weighs over everyone.

Except Bruce.

"I'm Cameron," Cam says, holding his hand out. Richard takes it, "You couldn't have a better sham-partner than our Major here."

"Cameron," I snap, glancing over my shoulder to make sure none of the guests heard that.

"Sorry boss," the squad child-mind says, doing a mock salute before stepping back inline.

"Uh, Dick," I try his nickname for a change, "These are some of my squad members. You met Cameron, that's Lief, Jane and Max. What are you guys doing here though? Not that I-...You get it. How did you know about this?"

They all look confused.

"You didn't tell her you invited us?" Lief turns to Heather.

She squirms, "I had...a moment, if you know what I mean."

Moment, meaning psychotic episode. Nightwing probably caught on to that, but I'm sure it puts the others at ease, believing that he doesn't know anything.

Looking at him, he already seems to want to get away.

"Do you mind if I talk to them somewhere else?" I ask, already letting go of him (for the first time in an hour) and stepping away.

"Go ahead," he says.

We both share a look, before promptly swivelling around and walking away from each other. It's both childish and mature.

I watch him walk over to his 'family'. The youngest brother immediately berates him over something. I nod to the staircase inside and the others agree, following me in.

I manage to happily avoid human contact all the while. Besides, there are only hotel staff in here. Everyone else is outside trying to look as rich as possible.

"Nice digs," Jane comments.

"Yep, that's what my father was going for when he designed this crystal gold-plated staircase with a pearl-encrusted rail. Nice digs," I say sarcastically.

They understand I'm not being a bitch or anything. Rather, it's a go at my father.

Money, money, money. That's all that matters to him. Alongside appearances, bling, winning and fame. The prettier the lobby the more worth it the stay.

"How ya' been anyway, Bosslady?"

"Ugh," I respond, skipping the elevator for the stairs, "Please don't call me that Lief."

"Sorry," he chuckles, "Old habits die hard."

It is nothing either of us have wanted to talk about since we left hell-on-Earth. Nothing of our time together was attractive, apart from out friendship which I am forever grateful for.

"I'm surprised you guys came," I say, when we reach the second floor. The first room is vacant so I open it with my own card and invite them in.

"Heather said you needed people who understood," Cameron replies.

"Yeah," I scoff, "She's right about that."

Silently we arrange the dining room chairs in a circle. 

None of my interactions with my siblings could ever equal this. A conversation made of looks and trust does not even equal to blood.

"Who wants to go first?" Jane asks sarcastically once we are all seated.

"My engagement party," I say, reaching into my dress pocket and pulling out my purse. I take out two fifty dollar bills and throw them in the middle of the circle.

"Off you go," she says brightly, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Alright," I cross one knee over the other, "My father is an asshole who likes money and has dug a hole that requires three arranged marriages to climb back out. As a result I'm marrying a pretty boy who already has a girlfriend. Marrying him is also the only way I can take my dad down as well as complete what you know who needs me to do. His brothers hate me for no good reason. I still can't go a few hours without downing a couple' opiates and I don't know how I'm going to hide certain psychotic breaks when we'll literally be in the same apartment. My mother won't do anything to help so I'm stuck trying to save Ethan and Demitri on my own. My sister has been trying to get in any of the other brother's pants, 'scept for the little one. My companion Mai is pissed off at me for being myself and oh, yeah, my younger siblings have been running around the rooftops taking knives to the stomach and bleeding all over my apartment."

At the end of my pledge for saddest sob story, I settle back into my chair, pulling my knees up.

"The end."

The others share looks of surprise, normalcy and humour.

"At least he's hot," Jane says.

"He's a pretty boy though," Max states.

"You're all pretty. Besides, what's wrong with pretty, huh?"

"Well, nothing," he responds, "If you don't want a real man."

Simultaneously, three pairs of eyes roll.

"He's a real man," I say, because despite any hatred I feel towards him he doesn't deserve a misleading representation. "He's a real man," I repeat.

Max throws his hundred in and starts up.

◊

◊

Dick watches Cleo disappear into the Hotel lobby, leaving him with his brothers and Wally in the private courtyard.

He allows them to create some sort of barrier, hiding him from prying eyes. He'd rather not face people without Cleo, despite their reluctance to really acknowledge each other at all.

"Who were they?" Tim asks.

"Elite teammates," Dick responds.

The younger's cerulean eyes dart from the doors and back to Dick, before he shakes his head.

"Impossible," he says, "they're not real. She wasn't a Marine."

Dick shakes his head, finally looking away from where his fiancée left.

"I think we're wrong about that Tim."

Tim ignores him, pointing to Jason instead.

"We're recording everything; the bug I put on the back of her dress."

Jason nods, "She's talking about how much she hates her dad."

Dick rolls his shoulders uncomfortably, thinking of the things that might be said that Cleo wouldn't even know they'd hear.

"Jay, that's enough," he decides, stepping forward.

Jason gives him an annoyed look, "They're not saying anything now. Besides, if we want to find out how her dad is embezzling-"

"She doesn't know! She's investigating it herself."

"What?" Damian snaps, "Grayson, when were you going to tell us that?"

"You sound-" Wally continues stuffing his mouth with an entire tray of hors d'oeuvres, "-like you two have talked about this before."

"Yes," Damian agrees suspiciously, "When was this, Grayson?"

"Hey," Jason murmurs, listening intently to Cleo talking.

"So? We talked at her apartment. Big deal, babybat."

"Do not call me that in public!"

"Oi,"Jason tries again.

"Did you..." Wally trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.

"KF."

The red head shrugs with a laugh, "Just wanted to check of the blood is flowing ol' pal."

"Assholes!" Jason snaps, grabbing their attention. "She just revealed a bunch of shit. She's doing this for more than two reasons, something about her siblings being vigilantes and she pops opiates like candy."

"Wow," Wally murmurs.

Tim starts talking about a plan of action and Damian begins mumbling about taking on Sunset City's vigilante team. Jason reluctantly moves towards Bruce to tell him and Wally finds another tray of food.

All Dick can do is think about how much he has just invaded her privacy.