12 | the problems caused by electrocution (tw)

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(Btw... Eleanor stutters for this chapter and until the end of season 1 because of how much electricity she had endured in her system and how much has messed with her head)

If there was one thing Eleanor hated, it was passing out / falling asleep in one place and waking up somewhere completely different in a place unfamiliar.

When she did wake up in a strangers bed she felt panic running through her bloodstream, and very soon pain burned through her.

She was shaking and there was a buzzing in her ears. She didn't like it. She couldn't breath. Her chest felt tight. It was to bright. Everything seemed to become too much.

She pressed her hands over her ears, breathing heavy, short breaths as tears ran down her face.

She couldn't remember it all. She didn't realise what happened, except everything hurt.

The door opened and closed softly.

Dick looked at the teenager, once again the same guilt flooded him.

She hadn't seen him. Her knees were pressed into her chest, her hands pushed hard against her ears, her eyes we're screwed shut as she cried and struggled to breath.

Almost two years it had been since she last felt pain.

Dick sat on the bed a little away from her.

She looked at him, her move sudden when the bed dipped slightly.

He tried to give her a warm smile as he took her hands from her ears, seeing them red from pressure. "Hey, you're safe now."

"Ma-make it stop, plea-please." She begged, hardly able to get the words out. Her hands went to snap back to her ears it stop the buzzing noise — not that it worked the first time.

"It's in your head, the noise, okay?"

She shook her head.

"Eleanor, listen to me. Can you hear what I'm saying?"

She nodded as best as she could as she began to rock.

Dick loosely held her wrists in his hands, watching hers shake as if electricity still ran through her body. "You were tortured."

"N-no-not p-possible." She claimed, watching her wrist fall through Dick's hand as proof. Her intangibility always protected her, why wouldn't it then.

But then the memories rushed back to her and a scream got lost in her throat. The throat ached as she barely spoke, all her words were low and painful. Her hands pressed her ears to the sides of her head.

Dick stayed with her, allowing her girl to grasp his hand and hold it tight. He sat with her for the two hours it took her to calm down.

"Ok, do you know your name?"

"Eleanor R-Rigby."

"I'm being serious, Eleanor."

Eleanor looked at him in offence, bringing her shaking arms to wrap around her legs. She didn't bother rubbing away the tears or getting rid of the fear stains. She allowed them to stay because she'd forgotten about them.

"I a-am."

Dick looked at the girl and came to realisation that not only was she physically hurt and shaking, as well as traumatised from the event, her memories had likely been scrambled.

"W-where's N-Nathan an-and the r-rents?"

And he realised how extreme it was. He didn't know how much she had endured, but he assumed she had to take a lot more then the average person would. After all, her body protected itself against her own will.

"Fuck." He whispered. "Right, Eleanor I need you to listen to me carefully."

She nodded, resting her head on her knees.

"Nathan and your parents are dead. They died five years ago, and then you moved in with your Uncle Kyle. Do you remember him?"

She shivered at the name. Her body tensed. "I-is h-he here?"

"No, he's in prison. Do you remember what he did to you?"

She nodded. If she had tears left to cry, she assumed she'd be flooding with them. "H-h-he ra-raped me." She spoke. "H-he a-as-assaulted Nathan, t-to, wh-when we were y-younger."

Dick hadn't known that. He knew Kyle was sketchy, he knew Nathan and Eleanor had never liked him but he always assumed it was just because of the sexist and homophobic comments he made. He never realised the trauma the two had likely faced from him.

"How long for, Eleanor, how long had he hurt you?"

"Th-three years."

"Can I hug you?"

Eleanor nodded.

Dick moved closer, wrapping his arms around the teenager. She leaned into him, her arms wrapped around her knees as she continued to stare at the wall.

The buzzing didn't stop or the shaking. She hated it. All of it.

"What's your name?"

"E-Eleanor R-Ri-Rigby."

"It's Eleanor Shelby."

"No."

"It is, your fake ID is Rigby because you and Nathan played that song constantly." Dick told her, pulling away. He placed his hand gently on the side of her face to turn her to look at him. "What do you remember about you?"

"I-it won't s-stop. M-ma-make it stop." Eleanor pleaded, her hands finding her ears again.

Dick pulled them away, to stop her hurting herself. "It'll stop on it's own, I hope." He told her, keeping her hands in his hands, he could see blood training down her neck from where her nail had cut into her skin. "I'm leaving in a while, you, Kory, Gar and Rachel — do you remember them?"

Eleanor nodded.

"Ok, you're going to go with them—"

"N-no. D-d-don't leave m-me. P-please."

"Alright, you can come with me. I'm going to see Donna Troy. Do you remember her?"

Eleanor nodded.

"Ok, get dressed, your bag is over there." He told her, detaching his hands from hers before leaving the room.

Eleanor looked at the bag in the corner of the room. Her leather jacket laid on top of it, her phone next to it. She pushed herself to stand next to the bed — before collapsing down to the floor.

A muffled 'ow' left her lips. She ended up walking on her knees to her bag.

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