Scared of the Dark || Damian Wayne x OC

49: PTSD

this chapter is dedicated to marinarreda, who has been an awesome reader since really early on. ur so sweet and ur comments make my day thanks for all ur support!!

also peep my apokolips baby up the top there *drools*

Rebecca's P.O.V:

I'll admit, at first I was pissed that someone had decided to rudely interrupt my hot make-out session with Hamish. That boy was really good with his tongue.

What? It was the truth.

But when I'd been ushered inside and found Sasha passed out on the floor, my frustration vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Oh, shit, not again.

"Sasha?" I practically yelled, panic rising in me. I threw myself to the floor and shook her limp body. She was out cold, but I didn't know why. I'd been too preoccupied with Hamish.

I frantically searched the horrified faces around me. "What happened?" I asked, but all eyes seemed to turn to the tall brunette boy in the kitchen, who was puking his guts out into the sink.

Oh, Conner.

So much for being her oldest friend, huh?

Sasha better pick me as her bestie after all this, I grumbled internally. Not this alcoholic psycho.

My mind raced for possible reason why she'd blacked out. Alcohol poisoning? Drug overdose? Or maybe she was just really wasted and resting. After all, her chest was still rising and it wasn't like she was dead or anything.

But something told me this was worse then that.

"Alright, what did you fuckers give her?" I snapped at the stunned crowd of teens. Everyone had mostly stopped partying now that there was a dead-looking girl lying in front of them and an ex-assassin in the kitchen who'd just tried to kill some random guy.

A girl I didn't know spoke up, "She was really drunk," while another dude anxiously ran his hands through his hair and added, "Oh, man, if the police pull up we're all fucked."

That seemed to scare everyone even more and now there were a good 60 people yelling and complaining rather loudly, which wasn't helping the situation at all.

I couldn't believe these spoiled little brats cared more about how many ounces they'd smoked than the life of an actual human being. Sasha still hadn't woken and I was starting to get a headache from the panicking kids.

"There's no way I'm going to rehab again," someone said, and another girl added, "No one call an ambulance, she's probably just wasted," which earned nods and shouts of agreeance.

I jumped to my feet and stared in disgust at the teens who'd spoken. "You did not seriously just say that."

A dark haired girl to my right sent me a bitchy glare. She looked a little older, probably like 16 or 17. "Well, some of us have been doing coke all day and don't wanna get arrested, Becca," she snapped, and it was clear that she was totally off her face. There was even a bit of white powder on her dress.

I felt anger boiling under my skin and threatening to spill from my lips. I stepped toward her and placed my hands on my hips, ready to go into red-head bitch mode if need be.

But another boy added, "Yeah, my mom can't know I did molly again! It's not our fault she blacked out."

Okay, that's it.

I was two seconds away from lunging at these stupid drug-addicted kids when I felt a pair of hands wrap around my waist and pull me back.

"Becca, calm down," Hamish's voice spoke as I struggled against him.