Just so you don't get confused-

***** = time lapse

~~~~~ = Change of PoV

Enjoyy <3

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Val choked, staring blankly in the mirror. Her body was covered in bruises; black and purple splotches that made her look like something out of a horror movie.

"What's happening to me?" she shrieked, voice cracking painfully. She tried to move again and almost doubled over in pain. Every part of her was sore and throbbing. It felt like her bones had shattered, and the small, prickly bits that remained were ripping through tissue.

Her eyes were clear, taking in everything around her. She could hear Daphne's bed creak from next door.

Blood. She could smell blood. Her blood.

Her lips wobbled and red, crimson blood ran freely down her chin. Her nails had cracked and pieces of them were falling off. A sharp pain shot through her arm — where she could've sworn she saw something moving — and she gagged. Tears were falling down her face; she was sobbing and choking on the little air that filled her lungs.

Daphne rushed in with a wide grin. "You're still in your roo—" She stopped dead in her tracks, taking in Val's appearance. A flash of shock passed through her eyes. Then nothing — just cool calculation.

"Daphne—" Val cried. She could barely lift her hands up to beg for help, could barely move at all as a jolt of lightning passed through her spine, shattering whatever bone was in its way. Her mouth was wide open but no sound came out.

"It's okay, it's just a nightmare. None of this is real. Go back to sleep, Val. Sleep." Daphne pushed her back, her voice drowning out the screams. She was screaming, either in her head or outside — she couldn't tell. It echoed again and again and she tried to fight it, tried so hard but —

"Please," she gasped.

"Sleep..." Her voice was soft, and it bubbled in her ears as if hearing it underwater. Her eyelids forced themselves shut and she whimpered under the blanket of darkness that consumed her. She felt fuzzy.

Sleep, a voice seemed to say, painfully echoing into the deepest parts of her mind. It felt warm and cozy and right. And she followed that voice into darkness.

This was a nightmare, and she wanted to wake up. None of it was real. She needed to wake up.

She followed that voice to oblivion.

~~~~~

Samantha turned off her ringing alarm clock and fell back on her mattress, sighing. She stayed there for a few minutes, staring at her room's ceiling before she decided it was time to get up.

She pulled her strawberry-red hair up in a bun and made her way to the bathroom. Her eyes, green and usually so full of that pulsing joy, were now dull and tired. Goddess, she was so tired...

She splashed a handful of water on her face, rubbed the tiredness away with a towel, and got dressed before going down the stairs.

"Good morning, sweetie." She followed the voice to the kitchen.

"Good morning, mom." She smiled. Her mom — Meghan — was of average height, with lean muscles and identical, strawberry-red hair constantly falling over her big, brown eyes. Samantha got her hair and freckles from Meghan while she had her father — Henry — to thank for her green eyes, something her mother had always loved about him.

"Morning." Henry stepped in, flashing them a big smile. "Just got off the phone with the Parks." Samantha scowled at the mention of their name.

"Don't be like that, sweetie." Meghan, of course, didn't miss her daughter's foul mood. She never did. Her words always managed to be both strict and soothing, a strange combination she'd somehow mastered.

"Easy for you to say." Her voice broke. "This will only be good for you." A sad smile crept at Meghan's face as she opened her mouth to respond, but her dad beat her to it.

"Don't talk to your mother like that." His voice was strict as always when it came to this particular subject. He lowered his voice, softened it, but neither worked down her temper. "You don't understand, we're only doing this to protect you. Things aren't going well, and we've talked about thi—"

"No," she bristled. "You've talked about this. Only you. My whole life you've kept telling me I was free to choose my own path, to make decisions for my own life." She took in a deep, shaky breath. "But you keep controlling me, and for what? Just to satisfy your selfish need for power?" She looked down at her feet, unshed tears burning her eyes. The bitterness in her last sentence surprised even herself. A sliver of shame made her curl her hands into fists.

"Everything we're doing is for your own good. I know it doesn't seem that way, but I need you to trust us." Her mother hugged her. Samantha knew she never liked this, even if she came through with it. It was always a matter of a means to an end. Still, she did nothing to stop it.

"But you—"

"Enough!" Henry gave her a long look. "We're going through with this. It is a great opportunity, whether you see it or not."

Samantha pulled away from her mother and ran out the door, her hands rubbing viciously at the tears in her eyes to stop them before she reached school. With a shaky breath, she began searching for her friends.

~~~~~

Ian was sitting at his houses' rooftop with his feet swaying methodically in the morning breeze, a silent hum on his lips. He'd have to leave soon, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

Closing his eyes, he blocked the world around him. Every little sound faded in the background until only one remained, a girl's voice — a voice from the past. Nostalgia filled every fiber of his being.

What he'd do to see her one last time...

"Wake up, Ian, you'll be late." His father's voice — Ben's voice — rang loud in his ears. He probably already knew he wasn't sleeping, it was his way of giving him just a little bit of space to work with.

He groaned and opened his eyes, using his arm to block out the sun. Getting up, he jumped back into his room and threw a handful of water on his face in a futile attempt to wash off the memory.

Ian... a voice seemed to whisper. Small and taunting and familiar.

Grinding his teeth, he looked up at the bathroom mirror. Curly, dirty blond and slightly wet hair fell down over green eyes. Her eyes.

Anger took over and he crashed his fist into the mirror, sending dozens of sharp pieces flying all around him with the sheer force. He stared at his hand, panting, as he watched his flesh pushing out the pieces of glass stuck into it and closing up, leaving no sign of there ever being a cut in the first place.

Had he been as strong then, he would have... he could've—

He took a deep breath to steady himself. After cleaning up, he headed to the kitchen to look for breakfast. It was still too early to head out so he took his food to the couch and turned on the TV, his head buzzing with all the things he could have done better, muscles almost spasming with the need to let it all out.

But he couldn't. Not anymore. And whatever release he was looking for would not come from within this house.

"Goodmorning, son." Ben appeared next to him with his own breakfast in hand. "Sleep well?"

He hummed, not bothering with an actual answer.

"Nice weather today, huh?" Ian raised an eyebrow. Ben sighed, a flash of disappointment passing through his blue eyes.

"Your mother wouldn't want you doing this to yourself Ian; and neither would Que—" Ian jerked up so fast you'd think he got hit by lightning, the sudden movement making his father startle and sink back into the couch.

"Don't you dare use them like that!" he snapped, eyes darkening dangerously.

Ben opened his mouth but no sound came out. His son had barely talked to him; he'd shut everything and everyone out and this sudden outburst startled him. He wanted Ian to react to him, to talk to him. Hell — he was aiming for any kind of reaction. He knew he was crossing a line there, he flinched at his own words. It was too soon, but his son was all that was left to him. He couldn't stand to lose him too.

And he was losing him.

He could see it every day. He was slowly drifting away, bit by bit, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Efforts such as these were his weak attempt of reaching out to the last part of his life keeping him sane.

It was pathetic.

Ian threw the blood bag away and found himself at his front porch in an instant, grasping at the doorknob and almost breaking the door with the amount of power he used to close it. The loud Bang! echoed in his ears as he took out his phone, searching for a name. 'Left early, see you at school.' He sent the message and moved forward, his feet carrying him faster than any humans' ever could. Restrictions be damned.

He wasn't surprised to have arrived first — he preferred it actually.

Taking long strides, he reached their bench and waited at their spot.

~~~~~

"Leave me alone, dad." Damian hissed at his father as he descended the stairs and made his way to the kitchen.

"When is this going to stop, Damian?" Rick asked pleadingly. Damian ignored him and sat down at the table, gulping down his breakfast — utterly disgusted.

"Damn it — this needs to end!" he tried again, louder.

Damian stood up and placed himself in front of his father. His cold, brown eyes sizzled and changed as they dug right into his. "Then you should have let it end." Averting his gaze, he threw the blood bag away and zipped in front of the door in an instant.

Rick blinked — once, twice. Pain and hurt rippled in his eyes when he turned, but Damian — without another word — closed the door behind him and let out a restrained breath. He blinked rapidly.

He had control of it. He did.

His phone buzzed in his palm as he took it out to read the message. 'Left early, see you at school'. Three bold letters stood out at the top: 'Ian'. His friend had his own problems to deal with.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, he shrugged off whatever emotion was pressing down on his shoulders and walked.

~~~~~

The alarm clock went off. Val opened her eyes. Her ears were ringing and she felt momentarily unable to move her limbs.

A flash of memory jolted her up and she winced, prepared to withstand the sheering pain she felt the night before — but she felt nothing, if not just drained. She looked at the mirror and her eyes widened. Every bruise was gone, leaving nothing behind but clear, bright skin.

Her hands found her phone, doing quick work of finding Daphne's contact. The familiar ringing sounded as she waited for a response.

Val had convinced herself she was probably too busy with work to answer when she finally picked up.

"Hello?" A tired voice.

"Daphne," she almost sobbed in relief. "Yesterday, I remember, something—"

"Calm down first." She could hear her breathe over the line. Sigh. "You were having a nightmare. I heard you, woke you up, and a couple of minutes later you went back to sleep. Normally." There was rustling over the phone. "I guess Emma was right after all — you just needed a little bit of time to adjust. I was surprised to find you in your room this morning."

"But it felt so real..." she whispered back. She hadn't even noticed the room until now. No woods, no mud, just her room.

"I know... most nightmares do. But you're okay, and for once — in your actual bed." She laughed softly. "It was a surprise, really, finding you there."

"Yeah..." She gave a small smile, hands playing with the warm sheets appreciatively. They had finally stopped shaking.

"At least the house can have a break from all that mud. Maybe an actual walk outside would be the next step?" Daphne drawled.

"Why, what's wrong with staying inside?"

She laughed. "Practicing is good and all, but I'd rather not come back to the constant reek of your sweat."

"You didn't seem to mind up till a couple weeks ago," Val mocked. "When you'd work me for hours on end and let up only when my legs gave out."

Daphne chuckled darkly, no doubt pleased with the memories she brought back. "Those were different... circumstances. Plus, I wasn't working much and had to find something fun to do with my time. Consider yourself lucky you got to improve your skills — to my entertainment."

Val bristled, but said nonetheless, "then it should be good that I'm staying in shape by practicing all day. I do have to warn you, I'm pretty sure our next sparring match won't end the way you'd expect." She heard chuckling from the other end.

"Don't get me excited for nothing." Challenge was thick in her voice. "And practicing for hours every day doesn't excuse your sprawling on the couch afterward. What do you even do all those hours there alone?"

"I don't think you'd much appreciate what I do if you were to find out." She grinned. Daphne clicked her tongue, a disgusted sound coming from her throat.

"Just saying, a walk could do you some good. Get to know the town a little better. Maybe make a new friend?"

Val hummed, "I'll consider."

"I'm rolling my eyes right now," she said, "just thought to let you know, in case you actually think I believe you."

Val smiled.

A shout came from somewhere on Daphne's end. "I have to go," she sighed, "there's an emergency."

"It's okay, see you when you get back." She hung up and leaned further into her mattress.

An image of her looking at all those bruises in the mirror flashed in her mind and she sighed. Maybe Daphne was right. Waking up in her actual bed sounded very appealing at the moment, too, and she didn't have the energy to analyze further. Maybe she was making it look like more than it was.

Or maybe you need to finally open your eyes, a small voice snickered in her mind.

She checked the time and cursed. "Great. Now I'm going to be late again."

*****

Surprisingly enough, the bell hadn't rung yet. Val found herself walking toward a large, empty picnic bench nearby. It seemed like the school had quite a few of them scattered around.

A voice called.

"Hey, Alex." She smiled.

"Heyo! Ready for first practice?" she asked excitedly. Val frowned.

"You mean gym class?" Alex tilted her head, eyes widening a tad. She opened her mouth to speak right when a hand swirled her around and a boy threw Alex on his shoulder, spinning her around with a wide grin on his face.

"Alex, you're heeere," he boomed, laughing. "The others are so boring today. Entertain me—"

"Erik." she gasped past his shoulder, clearly trying to hide her smile. "Put me down."

The boy obliged as she punched his shoulder. He faked a cry of pain and held onto the spot she'd hit him at, glaring. Alex just rolled her eyes and turned to Val.

"Val, this idiot is Erik, Erik this is Val." She pointed at each of them. He stood tall, with dark brown hair and a pair of soft, honey-brown eyes. Seeing the muscles on his body, she absentmindedly wondered why everyone in that school seemed so athletic.

"I'm honored to finally be in thy presence, my beautiful lady." He bowed — actually bowed — and looked up with a grin, clear amusement shining in his eyes. "I have heard tales of your exciting journey to the hallway in which you met that midget behind me. You're all she was telling us about since yesterday. You'll have to excuse her, she gets very excited when she meets new people." Alex gave him a vulgar gesture which he returned with a sheepish smile.

Val chuckled, making a show of curtsying before replying. "The honor is all mine, kind sir." The bell rang before she got the chance to continue.

"Hate to break the charade but... algebra," Alex groaned.

"You'll live," Erik laughed. "I'll see you, girls, later. Alex, bring Val with you after class," he continued while walking away, a hand waving back at them.

"Sure thing," she replied, then turned to Val. "Come onnn." She started dragging her ahead. "Mr. Feinman isn't known for his patience."

"You don't say," Val snorted.

Taking another look at Erik's retreating form, she leaned in for Alex to hear. "So... boyfriend?" This felt good. Normal.

Her face was nothing short of shocked. "Erik?" She barked out a laugh. "God no. That dork is just bored out of his mind. Trust me, you'll be seeing a lot of that from now on."

*****

It had been about fifteen minutes into class with Mr. Feinman teaching different mathematical rules and forms when the door opened.

"Ah, Mr. Black. I'm honored you took the time to attend my class." Irony dripped heavily into each word.

"I know I'm a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Feinman." He batted his eyelashes.

"Quit being smart with me, boy. Get in," he practically growled the last part, and if anyone found that weird, they didn't give any sign of it. The boy closed the door behind him.

Oh great.