A/N: Hiya! Here's the second chapter! Hope ya like. I wrote this with the help of its lovely creator, and of course i wrote this while listening to... Sum 41, Rise Against, Three Days Grace, and Linkin Park. Yikes. No wonder i have a headache lol, enjoy the chapter, will update as soon as my brain decides to! remember to PM its lovely creator and thank her for the idea!


Aira did find trouble that night, but it wasn't the Red Hood.

As soon as she reached her apartment building, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she sprinted towards the cement stairs that would take her to the parking garage, which led her to the entrance to the adjoined buildings. But as soon as she passed the first cement pillar, a sense of dread filled her, and relief was short lived as soon as she heard a sickeningly familiar voice.

"Oh, Aira," came the sing-song voice that could only belong to a good-looking, twenty-two-year-old named Carter Clearwater. Aira halted in her tracks, a painful wave of anger and fear swelled within her as she slowly turned around, careful to keep her distance as the built, 5"10 man leaned against the pillar, his eyes roaming over her shamelessly.

How she wanted him to die right then and there.

"Leave me alone," she said, her voice holding more confidence than she really had. "I've told you before."

"Aw, baby, you know I'm sorry," he cooed, pushing himself off the pillar and taking a large step towards her, his gray-green eyes twinkling with a malice only she and she alone knew about. She took a step backwards.

"Carter," she warned him, but with a wave of his hand her verbal warning was dismissed. "Leave me alone, I mean it."

"Aw," he gave her his best pouting face, the face he always gave her when he said he was sorry. Just because he said he was sorry for what he'd done didn't mean that he really was. And Aira was doing her best the satisfaction of winning her over again, to let her fall into the role of the victim she'd been avoiding for well over six months. It had only been six, and he hadn't left her alone since she'd packed up and moved out of his place. She was still too scared to go back and retrieve the belongings she hadn't had the chance to collect once she'd made a run for it. "Can't you give me a break, sweetie?"

"Nicknames and smiles won't get you anywhere," she snarled.

"Oh, we'll see," he said, glancing around at the sound of a car approaching, disappearing into the shadows, "we'll see, Aira."

Shuddering, Aira fled and in moments found herself in her apartment, pressed up against the door, panting heavily. Dropping her bags to the floor, she went over to the phone and picked it up, her finger hovering over the 9, but then sighed, hanging her head.

The police would never believe her.

Carter would lie to them as he had always lie to him, making her look like the bad person in all of this. Slamming it down, she shuffled her feet across the hardwood floor and picked up her groceries and headed to the kitchen and slowly began putting everything away.

When she was done, she went right over to her small, black leather couch and plopped herself down. Having no need for light, she left them off, and let her body get into its much needed lazy state. Seeing the TV remote on the floor beneath her, she picked it up and absent-mindedly tossed it across the room. In the far recesses of her mind she heard a book getting knocked over, but couldn't bring herself to care as she rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face into the cool leather, allowing her body to grow limp.

What a night.

First, those thugs tried to rob her, then, the Red Hood had to be the one to save her, and to top it all off, Carter had managed to talk to her before she could make it inside.

Groaning into the materia, she weakly punched the couch. Why did the Red hood have to be the one? It would have been lying if she'd said she wasn't thankful, but just the mere fact that he was a murdering crime lord scared her almost as much as Carter did.

Carter.

Oh, boy, this was getting worse and worse with each passing day.

Carter Clearwater, with his perfect sandy hair and his porcelain skin, was still trying to get back together with her. And she didn't want to be in a relationship with him, again. It had been too much to bear, and that was why she had left the first three times. The last time, her mother had found out about him, and had ordered her daughter to move out. Gladly, she obliged, but not before Carter could make some points clear first.

Shuddering at the memory of the physical pain that she hadn't felt in six months, she sat up slowly and took off her shoes, pulling her legs to her chest as she laid down on her side, her cheek pressed up against cool leather once again.

The phone rang from the entrance hall and Aira groaned. Getting up, she padded over to the device that was causing her headache and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Aira?"

"Oh, hey Mom." Aira hoped she wouldn't ask her to come in again. Cassandra always asked her to help out at the Aurora, even when she didn't really need it.

"Are you alright, honey?"

"Fine."

"Did you run into Carter again?"

"No." The lie slipped out quickly: it was a reflex she had to work on, but it hadn't gone away. She still felt like she had to lie every time Carter came around, for fear of her health and what Carter would do to her if someone really did believe her.

"Well..." her tone was disbelieving, but she didn't push it. "I'll see you soon, okay hon?"

"Right." Aira slammed the phone down harder than intended and stomped back over to the couch. Hiding behind her hands, she wailed in frustration.

The ability that Carter had to control her life when he wasn't even supposed to be in it made her feel helpless and worthless, just as she had been when she had still dealt with the bruises, the pain, the long sleeves, and lies she'd put up with since high school. And now he wasn't even living in her house. All of this begging that he did, all of these apologies that she knew meant nothing to him, usually got her to come back to him, to get her to move in with him, but then bruises would return, and she would flee.

Her mother had made sure that the last time she had been with him would really be the last time.

No one could help her. Nothing could. And who would want to? Only whispers and lies awaited her down at the police station when she had tried explaining to them what he had been doing for her for the past few years, but of course they hadn't believed her, of course they hadn't cared.

Feeling defeated, she laid down, shutting her eyes tight.

Was there anyone who could help her?


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more of a filler chapter, in my opinion, but meh.

Thanks for reading!