#3 – Learning Curve

Linda stood in the middle of an open field, in the middle of nowhere, Kansas – or to those who lived nearby, Smallville. The Kents had always been nice enough to lend their somewhat large farm to Clark, no questions asked. They just…understood that from time to time, he would bring strange guests for strange reasons.

But the Kents didn’t exactly ‘let things be’. They welcomed every one of Clark’s visitors with open arms, made each person feel like they’ve come home again, to a family they’ve never had.

Linda looked over at the blonde teenager Power Girl had found – the one they now called ‘Kara’ – as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the tall grass of the field, a book in her hands. Since she left the hospital, she hadn’t spoken a word – but she seemed very interested in Pa Kent’s book collection. She had done nothing but read since they arrived.

Ma Kent had given each of them a hug as soon as they arrived, starting with Clark, then Linda, and even Kara. Kara seemed to be happy for the attention, even though she had been rather withdrawn since. Linda guessed that it was because of her lack of memory of her past – that would be enough to depress anyone.

“What?” Linda looked down at herself as Superman stared at her with a raised eyebrow. She was dressed in her new costume – a white cut-off tee shirt with the S-logo, a blue skirt, red laced boots and white gloves. She no longer wore a blonde wig – she elected at one point to dye her hair blonde and grow it a little longer. It saved time when changing into the costume – and so far, no one seemed to notice. When not in her Supergirl persona, she just hid in plain sight – one of millions of blonde women wandering the streets of Metropolis.

“You know, I could ask Ma to sew you some–”

“No, absolutely not.” Linda shook her head. “If I replace this costume one day, I want to do it myself. For now, it’ll do just fine.”

Superman nodded. “Suit yourself. Are you ready?”

“To crash-land?” Linda laughed nervously. “What makes you think you can train me to fly?”

“Linda–” Superman sighed and folded his arms. “I didn’t know how to fly from birth. I had to learn. I crash-landed a few times, but I learned.”

“But I used to–”

Superman held out his hand to interrupt Linda, and shook his head. “You inherited that. It was artificial. The power you have now is different…and better. Once you learn how to use it, your power will seem even more natural then ever before.”

“Just remember to concentrate, Linda. I’ll be flying alongside you.”

Linda nodded and leapt skyward, launching herself high above the farmhouse and barn of the Kent’s farm. She began worrying that she might be hurt falling from so high up.

“You used too much power to leap.” Superman drifted up beside her gently. “But don’t worry, you can recover.”

“Recover? I’m going to fall as soon as I stop climbing!”

“No.” Superman looked into Linda’s eyes with a steadying, steely gaze. “You will not fall. You’ll feel the wind against your skin, and it will make you feel lighter. You’ll visualize a point ahead of you in the sky, and move toward it.”

“I can’t–”

“You can, and you will. You must concentrate.”

Linda took a deep breath and spread her arms out to her sides as she closed her eyes to visualize a point just ahead of her. She felt herself slowing to a stop – but she also felt the wind blowing through her hair. The freedom of flight…feelings of the sheer joy of it began flooding back to her. By the time she opened her eyes, she was breathing the cool misty air high above the Kents’ farm – and she wasn’t falling. “Oh my God…Clark–”

Superman nodded. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s like learning to swim. You have to learn to tread water first.”

“It…feels different then it used to. It feels like some kind of outside force is holding me here.” Linda smiled and started spinning slowly in the air. “Wow…this is so cool.”

“It will feel different, until you get used to it.”

Linda glanced over at Superman, a smile still on her face, as she watched him suddenly turn pale. But he wasn’t looking at Linda – he was looking past her. Linda turned her head to see what he was looking at. It was Kara, floating toward them, a mile above the Kents’ farm.

“Oh, my God.” Linda suddenly lost her concentration, and found herself falling quickly. Before Superman had a chance to yell clear instructions to her, she crashed through the roof of the barn, sending various farm animals running outside.

“Ma says dinner’s ready.” Those were the first words spoken by Kara. She spoke purposefully, slowly, as if she had to concentrate to form sentences in English – it must not have been her first language.

Superman was still floating, frozen, as he stared at Kara floating directly ahead of him. He then realized that he almost forgot about Linda – and raced down to the barn to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“Linda? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“No…I’m fine.” Linda sat up, brushing brand-new hay from bales she landed on out of her hair. “Just let me die quietly of embarrassment, please.”

“Not just yet, Linda.” Superman offered her a hand, pulling her back to her feet. “We have to clean up and change. Dinner’s ready.”

“But what about–”

“Let it go for now. We’ll ask her about it when it’s appropriate.” Superman turned and left the barn, with Linda close behind. Before she had a chance to say another word, he interrupted her again. “And don’t worry about the barn, I’ll fix it.”
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“Doesn’t the fact that we snuck in here invalidate any evidence we find?”

Lois Lane smiled and looked at Charlie as she stood in a darkened office at LexCorp. “That’s only for cops, Charlie. Reporters get information any way they can.”

“So…What am I doing here?”

“Because you know your way around here.” Lois snatched a file from an open file cabinet, and then pinched Charlie’s cheek. “And because I need a big strong man to back me up.”

Charlie frowned. He could tell that Lois was being sarcastic. “Very funny, Lois. Where did Linda and Clark go this morning? They seemed a little secretive.”

Lois turned and smiled at Charlie, seemingly amused that he would refer to Clark, a man with two identities, as ‘secretive’. “He took Linda to his parents’ farm, to teach her to fly.”

“To…what?” Charlie’s question was just slightly too loud, enough so to prompt Lois to quickly press her hand against his mouth.

“Keep it down, Charlie! You should know better.”

“Sorry.” Charlie paced around the room a little bit as confusion over what Lois meant started his mind going. “I thought Linda already could fly.”

“Clark says that she still can.” Lois finished taking files out of the file cabinet and closed it quickly. She then paused to tap the side of her head. “She just has a mental block or something, he says.”

Charlie followed Lois out into the hallway, toward the elevator. He was a little surprised that they had gone in and out of that office without encountering any security guards. “What do you think?”

“I think–” Lois paused in thought for a second, tapping her chin with a folder as they waited for the elevator. “Linda’s been through a lot lately. She needs her friends to help her through it all.”

Charlie and Lois both turned as the elevator doors opened. Their jaws dropped as they saw the two people they didn’t want to see in the building – Lex Luthor and Mercy Graves.

“Lois Lane and Charlie Lewis.” Luthor stepped out of the elevator and stood in front of the two of them. Mercy stayed close behind. “And stealing my files, no doubt. What will I do with the two of you?”

“You could let us go.” Lois smiled and nudged Charlie, who began snickering.

Luthor didn’t even crack a smile as he motioned for Mercy to move closer. “Escort these…people out of my building. And destroy that file.”

Mercy nodded and gently nudged Charlie and Lois into the elevator, snatching the folder from Lois as the elevator started it’s descent toward the lobby.

“Hey, I thought you liked me.” Charlie turned around and looked up at Mercy as she simply smiled and placed her finger in front of her mouth, indicating that Charlie should be quiet.

Lois laughed and folded her arms. “That’s what you get for trusting one of Luthor’s apes, Charlie.”

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Mercy put one hand on each of their shoulders and gently escorted them to the door – but it seemed a little unusual when she also walked them across the street, to Lois’ car. She continued to stand next to the car as Lois unlocked the door, and Charlie climbed into the passenger side.

“One more thing.” Mercy leaned into the window of the passenger side of the car.

“Let me guess.” Lois started up the car as she frowned at Mercy. “Don’t come back, right?”

Mercy ignored Lois’ comment as she dropped the yellow folder from Lex Luthor’s office in Charlie’s lap. She smiled at Charlie as he stared at her, a little confused.

“Why, Mercy?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve seen what Lex is capable of. I need a little insurance. I trust you, Charlie.” Mercy placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder gently as her smile began to weaken. She then glanced over at Lois, noting the look of shock on her face. “Oh, and Lois…Apology accepted.”

Lois looked at the yellow folder in Charlie’s lap at least twice as she began driving toward the Daily Planet building. “What do you suppose this means, Charlie?”

Charlie shook his head a little. “I truly don’t know. I’m a little worried for Mercy. I hope she’ll be okay.”
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“Clark, telephone!”

Clark slid his chair back slowly, as a smile creeped onto his face. He knew that the only person who would call him there would be Lois. “Um…Excuse me, please.”

As Clark walked into the next room, and Martha returned to the dining room, Linda couldn’t help but smile. Clark was still the polite farm boy, no matter how long he lived in the big city.

“Are you enjoying the potatoes, Kara dear?” Martha Kent smiled as she watched Kara wolfing down what Martha called ‘tomato potatoes’, a home-grown mixture of softened potatoes swimming in a thick tomato paste. They ended up having the appearance of rich red colored potatoes, but they tasted great.

Kara nodded as she paused to swallow. “Yes. They are good.”

Linda smiled a little as she watched Kara resume eating. She made a mental note to herself to teach Kara a little slang, so she didn’t seem so stiff.

“I…do not have these at home.”

Linda, Martha, and Jonathan all paused and stared at Kara at the same time. They all wondered if part of her memory was starting to return. And where exactly was ‘home’ for her?

“That was John Henry. He needed to talk with me urgently.” Clark announced his return to the dining room with that one phrase. He seemed a little pale as he spoke – he looked directly at Linda, as if it had something to do with her. “He asked me to speak with you as well, Linda.”

“Me?” Linda looked around the table to see everyone staring at her. “Why me?”

Clark leaned closer to Linda and whispered into her ear. “It involves a gateway opening from another plane. Someplace called…Otherverse Earth.”
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“And that was my first clue that something was terribly wrong. After he told me that, we went back to Metropolis quickly, and I went to my hotel and changed into my costume. That’s when I noticed the billboard.”

Linda leaned forward on a rather uncomfortable couch, located in a living room hidden away deep inside the Colorado mountains. She was on an Earth which was nothing like her own – it was one were heroes like herself were safest hidden away from the world. It was a dangerous place known as Otherverse Earth. A place which made her very nervous.

As she wrapped her fingers tightly around a comforting warm mug of hot chocolate and took a sip, she looked around the room at people who had, until recently, been total strangers to her. A Kara Zor-El, who had somehow on this Earth survived what Superman often described as ‘The Crisis’. Another woman named Rogue who had somehow ended up with all of her DNA replaced with Kryptonian DNA. Teen-age twin daughters of Kara’s, named Carrie and Karen. And Lara Night, a young woman powerful enough to destroy planets, but secretive enough to make Batman jealous.

“My second clue that something was wrong–” Linda smiled and put her mug back on the table in front of the uncomfortable couch. “–was provided by an adventurer named Sharon Holmes who was waiting for me in the lobby of the hotel. She found a Lex Luthor – one not from my Earth – stealing something called the Ancient Book of Rai from a hidden underground bunker in Germany.”

“Ancient Book of Rai?” Lara raised an eyebrow and turned away from one of the tall, narrow glass windows she stared out of. “Are you sure?”

Linda nodded. “I remember that part very clearly.”

“That’s bad. Very bad.” Lara paced around the room a little, arms folded tightly. “The Ancient Book of Rai is used to bridge the worlds of the living and the dead. To raise the dead, make the living immortal…or cause the living to die with just words and a few drops of blood.”

Kara and the twins looked at each other upon hearing the last part of Lara’s words. Words and a few drops of blood. That meant Luthor was close to being able to eliminate them. Too close.

“Oh, don’t worry. He would need blood from a living Kryptonian.” Lara seemed to anticipate the question on Kara’s mind as she continued. “That’s very unlikely to happen. But he is using the book to raise dead metahumans, and possibly to make himself immortal.”

“Sharon said something about…genocide?” Linda stared sympathetically at Lara as she spoke. “Luthor mentioned something to her about eliminating enemies back home.”

“Genocide?” Lara sat down on the arm of the couch. Her eyes told everyone present that she didn’t know as much about the Ancient Book of Rai as she would have liked to. “I…I’m not sure I understand. Who would Luthor want to–”

“I think that means the rebels, and metas.” Kara spoke unsteadily. She seemed calm, but she still didn’t have total control of her emotions. “He probably plans to eliminate anyone who opposes him.”

“Metas?” Linda looked confused as she stared at Kara.

“Metahumans, Linda.” Kara smiled a little, remembering back to a time when she had to be taught the same. “People with abilities beyond those of ordinary humans. Luthor sees them as his biggest threat, because he can’t control them easily.”

Linda laughed a little. “He’s not all that different from Lex Luthor on my world.”

Kara stood up from her seat in a slightly more comfortable looking spot on the love seat next to Rogue. “But this time, rather then weapons or chemicals…Luthor plans on using meta zombies against us. The ultimate power, under his control.”

“Kal-El and Diana Prince are already under his control.” Lara looked around the room quickly, noting the looks of shock and fear on their faces. All of them except Linda, who looked confused again.

“Wonder Woman is dead?” Linda looked at Rogue – she didn’t seem to understand what she was asking. Kara seemed more occupied by what was going on outside. Linda shrugged it off, guessing that Diana hadn’t taken the name ‘Wonder Woman’ on Otherverse Earth.

“Now she’s un-dead.” Lara smiled at her own little joke, even though no one else seemed to. “Lex Luthor is the biggest problem, however. He will become immortal, join the order of the Underworld. He will basically become a demon.”

“Ugh.” Linda put her face in her hands and shook her head. “More demons. That’s all I need.”

“I think we’ll have to give priority to stopping the walking dead metas.” Kara was staring out the window as she spoke, two fingers of her left hand pressed against the glass.

“Why?” Linda stood up to head toward the window. She wanted to see what Kara was looking at.

“Because they’re coming this way.”

“Oh, hell.” Linda stood next to Kara, looking out through the tall glass windows. She began to worry – coming toward her quickly were the two most powerful superheroes she had ever known – and a quick inventory of everyone in in the room with her confirmed that she was by far the most vulnerable person present. She began to wonder why she was even there in the first place. She then realized that for the first time as Supergirl…she would have to depend on others to protect her.
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“Another Lex Luthor, you say?” Lex Luthor leaned back in his chair, his elbows leaned on the chair’s arms, and his hands clasped together. He stared unwaveringly at a young British woman named Sharon Holmes sitting in front of his desk, in spite of the fact that she carried two pistols on a belt around her waist – he didn’t see her as a threat. She was bringing news which chilled him to his very core…yet he still remained perfectly calm.

Sharon nodded. “He’s from another…dimension or something–”

“Reality.” Luthor smiled a little, pleased with himself for correcting Sharon.

“Yes.” Sharon shifted in her seat a little, feeling uncomfortable as she noticed Mercy Graves towering over her from behind. “He stole a book called the Ancient Book of Rai.”

“I know all of this already.” Luthor leaned forward and placed his palms on his desk. “What I want to know is what this…other Lex Luthor can do with this book.”

Sharon took a deep breath as she looked behind her at Mercy – who stood perfectly still, except for her eyes. “It deals with the dead, Mr. Luthor. He can make himself immortal, and raise the dead under his command.”

“Sounds…interesting.”

“But there’s a terrible price to it, Mr. Luthor.” Sharon stood up suddenly and leaned over the desk, her raised voice indicating the urgency of her warning. “He’ll become a demon, his intentions will turn completely evil. Any good left in him will vanish…and he will have lost his free will to the whims of evil.”

“Rest assured, Miss Holmes. The last thing I would give up is control.” Luthor stood up and walked over to his office window, rubbing his chin as he pondered his next action. “But this…other Lex Luthor must not be permitted to freely roam any Earth he wants to. Mercy?”

“Yes, Lex?” The sound of Mercy’s voice made Sharon jump a little. It was soft enough, but it was also the first sound she made since Sharon arrived.

“Prepare the gateway. I have a mission for Miss Holmes.”

“A…Mission?” Sharon looked at Mercy, and then back at Luthor. They both seemed serious.

“You are an adventurer, are you not?” Luthor took a few steps toward Sharon, and leaned over her as she sat back down in the chair next to her.

“Yes.” Sharon nodded slowly, and stood up. “Yes, I am. What have you got in mind?”

“I’m going to send you to this…Otherverse. You will retrieve the Ancient Book of Rai, and bring it to me.”

“Bring it to you?” Sharon began to worry a little bit – this Lex Luthor could be corrupted just as easily as the other one. “But you just said–”

“Not that it should be any of your concern–” Luthor folded his arms and leaned closer to Sharon. “–I plan to destroy it. That kind of power should not be allowed to exist.”

“Because it can’t be totally under your control?”

Luthor frowned. “Feel free to jump to your own conclusions, Sharon. As long as you retrieve that book. And don’t even think about destroying the book before you return. My gateway is your only ride home.”

Sharon sighed as she watched Luthor and Mercy leave the room quickly, closing and locking the door behind them. She collapsed quietly into the chair again, as thoughts went swimming through her head. Thoughts of fear…that she would be stopping one Lex Luthor only to have a worse one on her hands.

“Oh, Sharon…What have you got yourself into this time?”
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“Clark, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

Clark Kent bowed his head a little, as his eyes looked through the wall into the kitchen, where a teenager named Kara sat, eating a slice of lemon merengue pie. He deliberately avoided looking directly at his mom, as the guilt over what had happen began to set in. “I…honestly didn’t know, Ma. If I did, I never would have brought her here–”

“Nonsense.” Martha Kent put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to raise his head and finally look at her. “Any friend of yours, Clark…you know the rest.”

Clark sighed and gave Martha a worried look. “But she’s…you know…like me. You and Pa won’t be able to keep up with her now that you’re–”

“Old? You’re calling me old?” Martha smiled slowly as she watched Clark turn a little red from embarrassment.

“I just–”

“Clark, your Pa and I raised you. We raised Mae. One more isn’t going to kill us.” Martha placed a hand on her heart and smiled. “Raising kids comes from here, Clark. From the heart. You don’t have to be smart, or quick, or even young. Love is all you need.”

“You’re quoting the Beatles?” Clark raised an eyebrow and smiled.

Martha shrugged as she led Clark back toward the kitchen. “John Lennon had it right. Why tamper with something that works?”
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“Stonehenge. How did I ever guess?”

Sharon Holmes stood, hands on her hips, as she kept her gaze fixed on a cloaked figure. He sat in the center of the circle of stones, a book on the ground in front of him. He didn’t even acknowledge her presence as he slowly whispered the words he saw on the pages before him. His lack of reaction made Sharon very nervous as she approached. She drew both of her pistols, careful to keep them aimed at the man’s back as she tiptoed toward him.

As soon as she was almost within his reach, he suddenly stopped whispering, prompting her to freeze. She stood, pistols steadily aimed as the man turned around so she could see his partially-cloaked face. It was Lex Luthor – but his face was pale, his eyes carrying a reddish orange glow, like they had fires burning behind them.

“My God…What have you done?” Her hands began shaking a little, she struggled to keep her guns trained on him as he lowered the hood of his cloak. His gaze felt heavy, like it was adding weight to the guns at the end of her arms.

She began backing away from him slowly as he approached, the Ancient Book of Rai in his hands. She could feel something from him, an energy – one of pure evil, and death. The scent of it filled the area. In a moment of panic as Luthor came closer, Sharon began firing both pistols at him.

It felt like only seconds before the clips in both of her weapons were empty. But Luthor still stood. As he stepped in front of her, she could feel darkness descending over her, suffocating her quickly. Her eyesight began to dim as she felt her legs buckle from beneath her. The last thing she would remember was Luthor lifting her off of the ground and carrying her away, before she lost consciousness.
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Sharon awoke with a start lying on a cold stone floor inside a stone-walled cell. Her heart was beating quickly, and her clothing and the floor were both soaked. Though she was still groggy, she realized that someone had just thrown ice cold water on her.

“Wake up!”

She turned around slowly to see a tall dark-haired woman approach her slowly. The woman was dressed in some sort of military uniform, armed with a pistol, a long knife, and…a bucket. Her instinct told her that the tall woman was not someone friendly.

“I said–”

As she approached, the woman suddenly found herself cut off as Sharon’s boot tangled with one of her legs, causing her head to crash to the floor quickly. Sharon stood, and without hesitation snatched the woman’s gun and knife, pointing the barrel at her almost immediately. The woman tried to sit up in spite.

“No, no. Please don’t get up on my account.” Sharon circled around the woman for a second, checking briefly to make sure the door was still open – it was. “Where am I?”

“You’re in a Lexcorp owned facility hidden off the coast of Northern California. It’s called Pelican Island.” The woman sat up slowly and rubbed her head, noting that Sharon leveled the pistol toward her as she moved. “There’s no escape. No one has ever escaped from here. And even if you do, you won’t survive the radiation.”

“I don’t plan on escaping to the outside.” Sharon smiled as she heard the last word of the woman’s sentence – ‘radiation’. It meant that she and Lex Luthor must have been transported to the place rather then just walking or flying in. “Lex Luthor has a Gateway here. Where is it?”

The woman simply frowned, but didn’t answer. She didn’t need to – her change of expression answered for her – there was a Gateway. Only Sharon would have to search for it.

“Thanks for the update. Good night.” Sharon kicked the woman in the chin, hard, knocking her out cold, and raced out of the cell. She punched the button to close the cell door on her way out – no sense in having the woman go after her again when she woke up.

As Sharon headed out of the cell area and up a stairway, she saw just what she expected – Lex Luthor, blocking her access to the floor above. She drew the pistol from her belt, but then decided to toss it aside – it didn’t work so well for her the last time.

“Hand over the book, Luthor…and then get out of my way!” Sharon drew the knife from behind her belt, gripping it tightly as she slowly stepped toward Luthor. “I’m taking it home, and not even you can stop me!”

“Such arrogance.” Luthor gripped the book tightly and stepped toward Sharon, a threatening red glow forming in his hollow eyes. “Arrogance never succeeds, Sharon. It will only earn you your own demise.”

She gritted her teeth as she watched his dead, cold, hollow eyes light up like they were some sort of gate to hell. She then knew that had to take that book, for the safety of the universe – or die trying. “We’ll see who meets their demise.”

Sharon lunged forward, slicing Luthor’s throat open with her first swipe of the knife, and plunging it into his chest with the second pass. Just as she was about to make a third pass, she saw Luthor raise his hands – and she felt herself being thrown against the stone wall behind her, hard.

Even though she had the wind knocked out of her, she quickly shook off the dizziness and charged Luthor again, tackling him and slamming him against the opposite wall. Finally, he dropped the book.

She snatched the book quickly, and began running just as Luthor began producing bladed weapons out of nowhere, pelting her with them from time to time as she raced down the halls of the complex. Once in a while he would get ahead of her, and slam her against a wall – but she kept her death grip on the book, refusing to give it up to him no matter the odds against her.

Out of pure luck, she happened to find the room containing the Gateway. As soon as she did, she slammed the door behind her, quickly using what little she had left of her waning strength to push a large bookshelf in front of it. She knew that would only hold Luthor for a short time – so she worked quickly from memory to activate the Gateway. She paid close attention to the one the Lex Luthor on her Earth used, assuming that the Lex Luthor on this Earth would have one very similar – an assumption that paid off.

As a last step, before she jumped onto the Gateway’s platform, she tore a small box off of the side of the Gateway device – she remembered it to be a self-destruct device – and removed the plastic explosive material from it, squashing it into a bowl shape and placing it on the ground. She removed a small pack of matches from her belt, and lit one quickly. She then stepped on the Gateway platform, and tossed the match at the bowl with one hand, as she hit the red flashing activation button quickly with the book in her other hand.

Then she prayed. She didn’t even see the room fade from view – her eyes were closed as she felt fire licking at her exposed flesh. She suddenly felt chilled, and opened her eyes. She was back at Lexcorp, on her own Earth. In front of her was Lex Luthor’s bodyguard, Mercy Graves.

“Welcome back.” Mercy smiled as she held out her hand. “I’ll take that book.”

“Like hell you will.” Sharon charged Mercy, knocking her to the ground quickly. She didn’t stop running until she made it through the lobby of Lexcorp – and she continued running all the way down the street to the Daily Planet building. She knew she would be safe there…and she hoped she could find the man she met on the plane to England – Charlie Lewis.
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Charlie nearly fell out of his chair when he turned around to see who tapped him on the shoulder as he sat next to Lois Lane’s desk at the Daily Planet – he recognized her immediately as Sharon Holmes.

Sharon’s hair was a tangled mess, her usual long ponytail undone, leaving her hair across her shoulders. Both of her pistols were missing, and on her belt she wore a bowie knife covered in dried blood. Various cuts, bruises, and burns covered nearly all of her exposed skin. And in her hands…some kind of an ancient book, partially burned.

“You’re hard enough to find, Charlie.” Sharon stood over him, holding the book out toward him. She was inviting him to take it.

“What’s this?” Charlie took it from her gently, trying to read the inscription on the cover.

“The Ancient Book of Rai.” Sharon leaned on one hand, place on the edge of Lois’ desk. “I ask you to do two things for me. Keep that book in a safe place, and find me someplace to stay for a while that’s rather…discreet.”

“Discreet?” Charlie stood up, noticing that Sharon seemed more injured then she let on. “Is someone after you?”

“Everyone is after me, Charlie.” Sharon smiled weakly. “Including two different Lex Luthors. One of them almost killed me.”

Charlie glanced at Lois, who waved both of her hands in front of herself and mouthed ‘Don’t ask’. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Lois and Linda were a lot alike in that behavior. “Are you trying to tell me you killed one of these Lex Luthors?”

Sharon shook her head. “No, he can’t be killed, he’s immortal now. I did do him quite a bit of damage. But that’s all a story for another time, Charlie. Right now I really could use a shower and a few hours’ sleep.”

“I understand.” Charlie nodded and picked up Lois’ telephone and began dialing. “I’ll get you a place at the hotel where Linda and I have rooms.”

Lois paused her work for a moment, and began staring at Sharon. “What happened to you, anyway? Did you cross a battlefield to get that book?”

“Practically, yes.” Sharon smiled and sat down in one of the chairs next to Lois’ desk. “I visited another Earth, a scary place. I was injured escaping from some kind of a Lexcorp prison there…I lost my pistols. There was a gateway to get me home in the same building, but I had to fight my way to it.”

Charlie gently took Sharon’s arm as he watched her stumble a little bit while she rose to her feet. “Come on, Sharon. That’s enough fighting for one day…Let’s get you some rest.”

“You’re just a saint, aren’t you?” Sharon smiled as she followed Charlie down to the street, where he quickly hailed a cab for her. “No wonder Linda likes you.”

Charlie didn’t answer as he helped Sharon into the cab, and told the driver where to take her. But his mind was busy in thought – did Sharon see something he didn’t? As the cab drove away, he quickly dismissed any passing thoughts he had about what Sharon said. After all, she had lost some blood, and was very tired. “I’m no saint…just someone who cares.”
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A stiff, icy wind blew through the mountains outside the Fortress, tossing Linda’s hair and cape mercilessly, and causing her to squint to keep her eyeballs from freezing. She stood atop the mountain shivering – Lara, Kara, and Rogue stood in front of her, doing little to slow down the wind. The twins stood behind Linda – they were asked to stay there by Kara, just in case.

They were prepared for a battle as they all stood, watching, while a living-dead Kal-El and Diana Prince approached quickly. Kara insisted on standing ahead of everyone else, with Rogue beside her, at the ‘battlefront’. Lara stood directly behind them, intent on protecting Linda and the twins.

The dead Kal-El seemed to slow as he approached, eventually landing a good distance away, with Diana close behind him. He was walking toward Kara slowly, seemingly not in any hurry. Unlike the Kal-El Linda knew, this one’s eyes were dark, cold…they had no soul behind them.

“Leave this place…and do no harm!” Kara held a single palm in front of her, pointing in the two zombies’ direction, as if she were a crossing guard ordering pedestrians to stop trying to cross a busy street. Naturally, the two zombies paid her no mind as they approached.

As she watched the zombies walk toward her, she cringed a little bit, expecting to see an epic battle before her, one of flying fists, searing heat vision, blood, and broken bones. What she saw instead was purely surreal, even by her own standards.

Linda watched, stunned, as Lara stepped forward silently toward the zombies. They made no move to attack her, even as she gently placed one hand on each of their shoulders. The two zombies collapsed to the ground without a fight, all signs of life within them extinguished.

“What did you do?” After several minutes of silence, the first words were from Kara. After speaking, she turned abruptly to face Lara, standing only inches away from her.

“I sent them away.” Lara blinked, cancelling the slight glow her irises carried since she touched the two zombies. “They will rest now…but we must destroy their bodies to prevent Lex Luthor from raising them again. I can destroy Diana’s body, but you and Rogue must destroy Kal-El’s.”

Kara’s eyes suddenly filled with sadness, and then tears, as she looked at Rogue for a moment. She looked to Lara again, her head shaking slowly. “No, I…I can’t.”

“You must, for the safety of this world, Kara–” Lara suddenly paused when she noticed everyone staring at her, wide-eyed. She looked at her own hands – she was surrounded by some kind of an energy halo, and she guessed that her irises were glowing once again. Only this time, it was not under her control – some kind of force from another plane was causing it…a deity, perhaps?

“Oh, my Rao.” Kara turned to Rogue and Linda, standing behind her. They were hypnotized by the power, the beauty of the halo around Lara – it was beyond the bounds of imagination. “Do you see if too?”

Linda nodded and stepped forward toward the glow, which was now completely surrounding Lara. It grew larger until it finally separated from her form, moving in front of her. Linda’s hand reached out slowly to touch it. It felt warm, comforting…like a mother’s arms wrapped around a small child. She watched as the mist surrounded the stilled bodies of Kal-El and Diana Prince, enveloping them until they could no longer be seen.

“You’re right, Kara.” Lara stood perfectly still, speaking in a soft voice just above a whisper as the energy enveloping her spread to Kara, gently wrapping a few of it’s tentacles around her. Kara closed her eyes, letting the energy comfort her – relaxing her enough so she dropped to her knees slowly. “It is Rao…And Kal-El.”

Just as those words left Lara’s mouth, Kara could see a form taking shape in front of her. It was a man…it was Kal-El. She bowed her head a little, as tears began forming in her eyes.

“You display shame at my presence, Kara?” The ghostly form of Kal-El reached his hand under her chin, propping it up so he could see her eyes. “Always keep your head high. You are worthy, Kara. You were born to a proud heritage. You were once Supergirl.”

Kara nodded slowly and rose to her feet, looking down to notice that she was now wearing a costume she remembered well – the red skirt, blue top, and giant S-logo of Supergirl. She said nothing, but a single sniff from her indicated her desire to maintain control of her feelings, even as her eyes betrayed her by continuing to send tears.

“I wish I could have known you better, Kara. I wish I had more time…But now I must return home to Rao, to be with the others of Krypton.”

“No–” Kara shook her head as tears began streaming down her face quickly. “Don’t go, please. You’ve guided me for so long…I could feel that you were there.”

The ghostly Kal seemed to smile for a moment, as he gently place a misty hand on Kara’s shoulder. “I must go, Kara. My time in this realm has come to an end. My work is done. You and your daughters have carried on my legacy well. Now you have a new legacy…and in the end…your daughters will be the salvation of this Earth.”

“Kal–” Kara reached out for him as he began drifting away from her slowly. “I…I want to go with you.”

“No. You still have much to do here. I will always be with you, Kara, in your heart. I will always be there.”

The mist suddenly dissipated with a gust of icy wind, leaving Kara feeling chilled, and alone. Without a word, Rogue quickly held her tightly as she collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. It was as if Kara were living through Kal’s death. In a way…she was.

“Leave us, please.” Rogue whispered those three words, prompting Lara to quickly lead Linda and the twins back inside the Fortress.

As darkness began to fall that night, Linda left for her home, even though she hadn’t seen Rogue or Kara since that moment. Lara left shortly afterward, once the twins convinced her that they would be perfectly safe by themselves.

Linda would learn later from the twins that Kara and Rogue didn’t come back for several hours – and once they did, they retired for the night without a word. No one knew what happened during those hours – it was something that would forever be a secret shared by Kara and Rogue. Karen insisted that they most likely spent the hours just talking, sharing – a few hours to strengthen the bond they had with each other. But somehow, Linda believed it was much more then that.

Once Linda arrived at her hotel room, she was tired from the whole experience she had – and yet she lay awake for hours, as her mind spun out of control. Everything she’d seen, everything she heard…she couldn’t help but believe that the universe would never be the same again.

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#6 – Resurrection

Thunder crashed outside the Metropolis headquarters of S.T.A.R. Labs, as lightning illuminated the surrounding cityscape with enough frequency and brightness to seen almost like daylight, in spite of the late hour. Rain poured from the skies, streaming across the advanced research facility’s parking lot, making it seem more of a small, shallow creek.

Dr. Emil Hamilton was working late this particular evening. A couple of friends of Superman, Charlie Lewis and Linda Danvers, as well as a woman named Sharon Holmes, had brought in an Essence. An Essence was essentially a cybernetic human – a living machine – melded with a human brain from a long-dead host. But this particular Essence had been deactivated, it’s circuit control system removed.

He knew that the mind trapped in the immobilized body in his lab was slowly dying, slowly going insane. Unable to control its environment, it felt trapped in a perpetual dream state – where it would remain after a short time, even if the body were re-activated later. Her brain would essentially just give up and die.

Emil sat on a stool in front of a counter, next to a small halogen lamp, a magnifying glass suspended in front of him by a band around his head. His hand held a soldering iron, as he delicately touched it to a tiny circuit board. A couple more solder points and…

“This is it”, he said as he removed the magnifying glass headband and tossed it to the counter in front of him. He blew gently on the small circuit board to cool it, before sliding off of the stool. “The moment of truth.”

The lights flickered in his lab as a bright flash of lightning through the windows illuminated him from behind, followed by a loud crash of thunder. He approached the Essence. He pulled aside her hair to find a slot the size of a quarter on the back of her neck. His hands shook a little as he took the circuit board he just made, snapping it into the slot with an audible click.

Lightning flashed again, as the lab went dark. A loud crash of thunder sounded as the eyes of the Essence opened suddenly. Emil smiled as he watched her raise her arms and begin to sit up slowly.

“I did it–“, Emil yelled, the sound of his voice bouncing off the dark walls of his lab, “She’s alive! She’s alive!”

Emil’s enthusiasm was cut short abruptly as the Essence raised an arm quickly, grabbing him by the throat. She slid off of the table, protected from the elements only by a soft white gown. Another flash of lightning, another crash of thunder as she lifted Emil off the ground by his throat. Another flash of lightning illuminated her eyes – they showed anger.

“Please…I…I saved your life.”

The Essence reached behind her to feel the small slot on the back of her neck with her finger. It had closed, as it was designed to when a control circuit was in place. Her eyes turned sad as she dropped him to the ground gently and let go of his throat. “Th-thank you.”

With another flash of lightning, the Essence hugged Emil with the gentleness of a child. He smiled, content that he had made a friend, not an enemy that day – and that he had triumphed over all odds.

“I’m Sam.” Sam looked down at her white gown and gave Emil a shy smile. “Do you have anything a little less–”

“Breezy?” Emil nodded and headed toward lockers placed against one wall of the lab. The place didn’t have much in terms of fashionable clothing, but he could lend her one of Star Labs’ blue uniforms. He chose one which seemed to be the right size for Sam, and handed it to her. “I hope this fits. It’s all I have at the moment.”

Sam nodded, eyeing Emil as she headed toward the single restroom near the lab’s entrance. She seemingly appeared behind him only seconds later as he was examining some equipment with a flashlight. “Okay. Now what?”

Emil jumped as another flash of lightning and thunder crash punctuated Sam’s sudden appearance. He leaned over the counter, trying to catch his breath. “God, you scared me. I need to do a few tests on you. Nothing invasive, just x-rays and CAT scans. It could take a while.”

Sam shrugged. “Okay. But I want to talk to Charlie afterward.”

As Emil walked over to a panel to engage the lab’s emergency generator, he nodded. “Anything, Sam. For what I think I will discover…anything.”
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Lex Luthor sat in his darkened office, shades drawn and lights turned off in an effort to soothe his aching head and muscles. He thought about seeing a doctor…but quickly dismissed that as he convinced himself that doctors robbed him of his dignity.

As he closed his eyes for just a moment, a horrid scene replayed itself in his mind. He heard an explosion, a roar, and crashing glass above him. He looked up for just a second, confident that whatever had happened couldn’t directly affect him – yet it did.

He was facing an avalanche of concrete, steel, and glass. He had just enough time to follow his instincts, crumpling to the sidewalk and guarding his neck with his hands quickly. He felt pain radiating from every extremity as the concrete chunks began pelting him, as the glass shards left cuts on his exposed skin. He saw flashes of light as a few chunks hit his head…he felt dizzy. The next thing he remembered was being rescued by two of his security people.

Luthor realized that for the first time in his life…he had almost been killed by an accident. Not by a worthy adversary, or someone who had the mind to out-think and out-strategize him. Simple luck, being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He would have died there, lacking the dignity of a true battle.

Sitting in that dark office, alone, he began to worry about how many people would rejoice, rather then mourn, at his death. Superman, while publicly showing remorse, would be relieved. Every muck-raking reporter in town would descend like vultures, looking to rip apart what was left of his reputation. And Lexcorp…would become nothing.

A deep sigh from Luthor went unheard as he came to a single conclusion. It was time for a change in his life. It was time for Metropolis to meet it’s true hero.
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Linda pounded on Charlie’s hotel room door mercilessly as he raced across his room to open it. It sounded like she was trying to break it down, and he had no idea why.

“Charlie, what the hell is this?” Linda marched right through Charlie’s hotel room, shoving a rolled-up newspaper against his chest before sitting down, arms folded, in one of the chairs around the table in his room.

Looking confused, Charlie slowly unrolled the ruffled copy of The Daily Planet and read the headline. It said ‘Lex Luthor To Repair Damage From Explosion’. He stared at the headline for a moment before responding. “Looks like he’s trying for publicity.”

“Read the rest of the article.”

He chuckled as he began to read the first part of the article, a miniature interview of Lex Luthor explaining how a near-death experience during a building collapse after the explosion gave him a new look on life. And how he now believed that all life was…sacred? “What the hell…?”

“That’s what I said.” Linda leaned back and put her feet on Charlie’s table. “Lex is losing it. Since when does he think of anything but himself as sacred?”

Charlie laughed, tossing the newspaper aside as he sat at the table next to Linda. He glanced at her shoes for a moment, noting that she was wearing new sneakers. Now that she lived in a big city and lived half of her life as a super-hero, her usual footwear proved to be inadequate. “It’s probably just some carefully rehearsed speech of his.”

“Oh, you think so?” Linda tossed an opened envelope across the table at Charlie. He removed the letter inside quickly, leaning back in his chair to read it.

“Dear Linda and Charlie”, he read aloud, “I have performed many deeds in my life which I now regret fully. One of which was attempting to cheat and alienate you, and potentially destroying your fledgling business by taking your services without payment. Please accept this check for a $100,000, it should cover what I owe you and more. I hope it can begin to heal any animosity between us.”

Charlie turned the envelope upside down, which didn’t reveal any check. He frowned and looked at Linda. “He did send a check, didn’t he? Do you have it?”

“I burned it.” Linda snatched the letter from Charlie quickly, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it effortlessly into the garbage can across the room. “I don’t want any of his blood money.”

“Linda–” Charlie stood quickly and paced the room once, a look of worry on his face. “We need that money. We haven’t had any paying clients since we got here. We can’t keep living off of Clark and Lois in this hotel forever–”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll pay for the hotel rooms.” Linda stood up and leaned over the table. Her eyes looked angry. “Just as long as Lex doesn’t. I don’t want to be indebted to him for a single penny. I won’t let you, either.”

“Did you ever hear that old saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth, Linda?”

“This gift, Charlie–” She walked around the table quickly, standing in front of Charlie to look him in the eye. “–Is no gift at all. Trust me…Lex Luthor always collects on his favors. Always.”

“What if he’s serious, Linda?” Charlie paced across the room again, giving away that he didn’t feel sure of his words. “When a man nearly has a building fall on him, it can change his outlook drastically.”

“Yeah, right.” Linda headed into Charlie’s kitchenette, rifling through his refrigerator as he continued talking.

“You trust everyone else implicitly, Linda. Just make sure you’ve thought about this, and it’s not the experiences of Matrix you’re drawing on.”

She visibly cringed as those words left Charlie’s mouth. She put a block of cheese she was thinking of eating some of back into the refrigerator – all of a sudden, she lost her appetite. “I can think for myself just fine, thank you very much!”

“Linda, wait.” Charlie struggled to catch up to Linda as she slammed the refrigerator shut and headed toward the door quickly. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to dredge up any ugly memories. Forget about the money. You’re right…if it’s going to come between us, I don’t want any of it. I’ll survive.”

Linda had already stepped into the hallway, she was prepared to slam the door behind her – but Charlie’s words suddenly caused all of the anger to drain out of her body. She couldn’t believe she was going to hurt Charlie’s feelings over anger she felt toward Lex Luthor…she couldn’t let that happen.

“Here.” She slipped her hand into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a crumpled check with a Lexcorp logo, pressing it into Charlie’s palm gently. “It’s yours, you do need the money. And I’m…sorry I bit your head off.”

Turning and heading back into the hallway, Linda was intent on retreating in shame back to her room – but she froze as she heard tearing paper, followed by confetti raining down over her head. She turned around to face Charlie, her eyes widening as she realized what he was tearing up. “What are you doing?”

“Your friendship is more valuable to me then all of Luthor’s money.” He tossed a remaining few fragments of paper in the air, smiling as he watched them land on Linda’s head. “It’s an act of solidarity. If you don’t want any part of him…I don’t either.”

Linda rushed through the doorway of Charlie’s hotel room in a blur, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug quickly, only to notice a second later that she had tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe you gave up all of that money just because of me.”

“Money is fleeting, Linda. Friendship is forever.”

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“I’m sorry, Miss–”

“Graves. Please, call me Mercy.” Mercy stood at the entrance of Emil Hamilton’s laboratory a thick wad of cash in her hand. She towered over the doctor as she waved the money at him slowly. Her hand held more cash then he made in a year.

“Sam is not for sale. Technology or no, she’s a living–”

Purposely intimidating Dr. Hamilton, Mercy moved closer to him, casting a shadow over him as she gripped the wad of cash tightly, evidence of her impatience. “Look, little man…She’s Lexcorp property. I can just take her and leave if you prefer, but I would rather have a happy ending for both of us. Take the money.”

A door behind Mercy opened quickly as a tall man with a bald head and a self-satisfied smile entered the lab. That man was none other then Lex Luthor himself. “Stand down, Mercy. I’m sure we can work all of this out.”

Luthor walked across the lab, urging a nervous Dr. Hamilton to follow him as he leaned against one of the solid steel counters against one wall. “Dr. Hamilton, I have a proposition to offer you.”

“I told you–”

“Hear me out, please.” Luthor held up a hand to stop Emil from speaking, continuing to talk to prevent further interruption. “I will fund all of your research into the Essence, Dr. Hamilton. Anything you learn from her is yours to exploit…provided that you share any findings with me, as well.”

Emil shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor. I can’t accept bribes–”

“Not something as crude as a bribe.” Luthor smiled and placed one hand on Emil’s shoulder, almost as if her were a politician courting a special interest group. “This is an investment. You are supplied the capital you need for supplies, equipment, and staff. I get information in return. I will not even interfere in your work.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Emil looked at Luthor, then at a now smiling Mercy. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you”, Luthor said, “Helping a fellow researcher is worth the price.”

Emil stood, frozen, as he watched Luthor and Mercy quietly left the lab. He was so shocked at Luthor’s behavior, he didn’t even notice Sam walk up behind him.

“He sure is acting strange, isn’t he?”

“Huh?” Dr. Hamilton jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice, before calming himself quickly. “Oh. Yes, he is. But his bodyguard seems the same as ever.”

Sam laughed. “I like her. She’s cute.”

“If you like her so much”, Emil joked as he headed back toward his lab table to finish some paperwork, “You can talk to her next time.”
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“Can I see one of the Batgirl statues?”

Buzz sat behind the counter at Sci-Fi Universe, eyeing the pack of cigarettes in the shirt pocket of the teen speaking to him. It had been a while since he had a cigarette – Linda made him quit smoking after the hotel manager threatened to toss him out for nearly setting a couch on fire.

“No, you can’t. Bug off.”

“Why not? Don’t you work here?”

“Because, you git–” Buzz leaned forward across the counter, close enough to snatch the pack of cigarettes from the teen’s shirt pocket. “You didn’t say the bloody magic word.”

“Please?”

“Wrong.” He held the cigarette pack just out of the teen’s reach. “The magic word is commission. I’ve got to make a living too, y’know.”

“That’s it”, the teen fumed, “I want to talk to the manager!”

“Fat chance in hell of that.” Buzz leaned back, putting his feet on the counter as he lit up one of the cigarettes, blowing smoke in the face of the next customer. He felt satisfied with himself – there was no way Linda would ever know–

“Buzz, what the hell are you doing?”

He looked across the counter quickly, to see an angry Linda standing in front of him. He removed the cigarette from his mouth quickly, squashing it against the glass countertop. “I wasn’t smoking–”

“I meant with that kid!” Linda leaned over the counter as Buzz tried his best to snuff out a few smoldering embers which trailed across the counter. “You can’t treat customers like that, you’re going to get fired again!”

Buzz shrugged. “Treat customers like what?”

“Hey!”

Linda looked over at a large man who had just entered the store from the back room. He walked along the counter, his gaze fixed on Linda, until he finally paused in front of her and leaned over the counter.

“This aint a library. Buy something or get out!”

“Let me guess”, Linda asked as she gave the man an amused smile, “You’re the manager?”

“I’m the owner. You have a problem with that?”

“No…no problem at all.” Linda tried her best not to laugh as she raced out of the comic shop, finally losing control as she met Charlie outside.

Charlie smiled, but did his best not to laugh. “What?”

Linda took a deep breath to try and calm herself, urging Charlie to start walking with her. “I never thought I’d see Buzz find the perfect job…but I think this is it.”

While turning to look back at the comic store, Linda found herself crashing right into Charlie. He had stopped walking. She was about to ask why when the reason became apparent – he was reading a large banner across the street announcing a homeless shelter opening courtesy of Lex Luthor. But it wasn’t just any shelter – it was a building filled with nice one bedroom apartments!

“What’s going on around here, Charlie?” She stood behind Charlie, frozen, just staring at the banner. He did the same…and after several seconds of silence from Charlie, she realized that he didn’t have an answer for her. He was just as stumped as she was.

“Come on, Linda.” Charlie pointed across the street toward a small glass storefront. “We have to get to Dave’s Deli to meet Clark and Lois.”

Linda nodded, following Charlie across the street and into the deli. The place was a favorite among Metropolis residents because of it’s familiarity – it was one of the few places that the frightening, brand new Metropolis technology didn’t rule. In fact, if not for the touch-screen cash register, the place was positively dated. But that, in Linda’s opinion, is what gave the place its character – the fact that it remained the same in spite of the changes surrounding it.

She watched an older homeless man in layers of torn clothes enter the deli as she followed Charlie to a table. Linda cringed silently – Metropolis, in some ways, was as bad as Gotham. To keep it’s polished image as the city of the future, it’s residents had become as intolerant of the homeless as people in Gotham, though for another reason – because during the ‘upgrade’, most people prospered. The homeless and poor were therefore outcasts, thought to be defective.

Linda was pleasantly surprised when the owner of the deli – his name tag read David something-or-other – stepped through the double swinging doors leading to the back of the store, hands full of two brown bags full of bread and various food items. The homeless man tried to refuse, but didn’t get the chance before David dumped both bags in the man’s arms, and shook his hand quickly. It was an outpouring of genuine love – not for a city, but for its people.

Charlie saw it too. As she turned to look at him, he was eyeing a homeless woman in torn clothing who came in to help the man carry the bag. Then yet another homeless person – a teenager, lost to the streets. Linda took a quick look around the store, expecting to see horrified patrons. There were a few, but the regulars took it in stride – this deli was a neighborhood joint, a place where people took care of each other.

As Linda remembered the sign outside trumpeting Luthor’s big entry into the world of aiding the homeless, it made her angry. Luthor wasn’t satisfied any more with just being the biggest businessman in town. He wanted his finger in everything, his name plastered on every corner of Metropolis. He would never be happy with simple world domination – he wanted the world to truly be his own.

“What’s the matter, Linda?”

She could feel the anger in her eyes as she turned to face Charlie, not even realizing how upset she was with Luthor until she saw her own emotions reflected in his eyes. She asked herself why she was so angry – was Charlie right? Was she drawing on memories from Matrix’ past? “Charlie…what’s the matter with me? Why can’t I let go of this hate I have for Lex?”

“Once bitten, twice shy, Linda.” Charlie smiled at her as they both sat down at their table. “To tell you the truth, I don’t trust him much either. But every man deserves a second chance…maybe he’s genuine this time. Sometimes it pays just to sit by quietly and wait.”

Linda nodded quietly as she watched Clark and Lois approach from the entrance door. Following them was the teenage Kara Kent. Linda had to smile, watching the three – it looked almost like Lois and Clark had adopted her.

“What would you guys like?” Charlie leaned back, reading the menu as Clark, Lois, and Kara sat down.

“Tomato soup. And tuna.” Kara returned the stares of Charlie and Clark as she blurted out her preferred order. “What? I’m hungry.”

Linda covered her mouth to laugh as Charlie attempted to get the attention of one of a nearby waitress. Once the waitress approached, she watched as Clark and Lois each ordered their lunches with the smoothness and precision that only a regular customer of the place would be able to. They didn’t even consult the menu as Charlie and Linda had to.

“What would you like, Linda?”

Suddenly pulled back to reality, Linda tried to skim the menu quickly. She let her mind wander, totally forgetting that sooner or later, her turn would come up. She glanced across the table at Kara, smiling to herself as she remembered why Kara ordered what she did – because she probably ate it often enough at the Kents’ home in Smallville. “You know…I think I’ll have what she’s having.”

The waitress nodded. “Okay…that’s two tomato soup and tuna’s, one roast beef on whole wheat, and two bologna and cheese, no mustard.”

A round of nods confirmed that the order was correct, sending the waitress back toward the kitchen.

Linda continued staring across the table at Kara as Charlie, Lois, and Clark began a discussion on obtaining evidence in an investigation. She enjoyed being a private investigator for the action, and to help people – such detailed discussions bored her.

What interested her more was how quiet Kara remained…and what she was doing to pass the time. Since Kara sat down, she had been playing with something small in one hand, seemingly kneading it with her fingers. At first, Linda assumed it was some sort of modeling clay – interesting her even more, at the possibility of Kara being a fellow artist – but soon she discovered that it was something even more interesting. In her palm, Kara was molding a small figurine made out of pure glass. She was using soft heating from her eyes, and the pressure of her fingers to gently yield the glass to her touch.

“Can I see that?” Linda extended her hand across the table to Kara. And when Kara looked up, a light of hope filled her eyes, a look of joy at seeing someone willing to share her interests.

“It’s a dog”, Kara explained softly as she dropped the still-hot molded glass figurine into Linda’s palm. “It looks like Rupert, doesn’t it?”

Linda smiled and nodded as she held the small glass dog up to the light to get a closer look. Kara was right, it looked just like Rupert. “How long did this take you?”

Kara shrugged. “A few days. I did it a little at a time.”

“It’s beautiful.” Linda began staring at the glass figure again when she overheard a new subject being discussed by Charlie, Clark and Lois – sending Kara to school. “What? You’re sending her to high school?”

“Why not?” Clark folded his arms and leaned back. “It was good enough for me, and for Lois. Look how we turned out.”

Linda shook her head. “I don’t exactly have fond memories of high school, Clark. And it’s not the 40’s anymore, schools are different now.”

Charlie did his best not to snicker at Linda’s obvious insult as he offered an alternative solution. “How about home schooling?”

“I don’t know.” Lois wrinkled her nose. “I mean…sure it’s becoming popular, but what kind of education will Kara get?”

“Well…Considering the state of public schools these days…” Charlie laughed.

“Besides”, Lois interrupted, “Who can we trust to home-school Kara?”

Linda watched Kara sigh as everyone at the table talked about her fate. She bowed her head to concentrate on another glass figurine, her long blonde hair obscuring her eyes as she did her best to shut out the world. It made Linda sad to see her do that – to just quietly withdraw from reality instead of asserting herself.

“What does Kara want to do?” Lois, Clark, and Charlie all stared at Linda as soon as she blurted out that seemingly revolutionary idea. Even Kara looked up to see what was going on. “I mean…Does she even want to go to school, or does the idea of it terrify her? Does she even need school? She seems pretty smart to me. And if she wants, Charlie and I can even find her some work to do.”

Kara glanced around the table before smiling at Linda. “I am terrified. But I’ll go.”

“Are you sure?” Linda leaned across the table, ignoring the disapproving looks from Lois and Clark. “It’ll be tough on you. Not the lessons…people.”

“I can deal with it.”
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Linda walked into her and Charlie’s office, carrying a small plastic bag. The office work bored her – so she volunteered to go out for office supplies. Plus the fact that her credit card, unlike Charlie’s was empty – she knew that Charlie was in much bigger financial trouble then he would admit to her. Linda was glad to help him out as much as she could without robbing him of his dignity.

She paused in the doorway of the office, watching silently as two people walked into the office ahead of her – Dr. Emil Hamilton and the Essence named Sam she remembered helping Sharon Holmes and Charlie dig up after Lex Luthor buried her.

“Hello, young lady.” Dr. Hamilton leaned over Kara, who sat on the floor re-organizing files at her own suggestion. She was eager to do the work when Charlie casually mentioned that the files were a mess. “Can we talk to Charlie Lewis?”

Kara looked up at Dr. Hamilton and frowned. “I’m not a kid, you know. I’m not a secretary, either.”

In spite of Kara’s protest, she pointed toward one of the rooms of the office. Dr. Hamilton and Sam walked into the room.

“If I were a super-hero too…would I get more respect?”

Linda smiled at Kara’s question as she sat down on the floor next to her, placing the plastic bag she held carefully on the floor nearby. “You know…I often ask myself the same question. So I guess that means the answer’s no.”

Kara sighed loudly. “Why am I treated like a kid? I’m not even from this planet. I might be an adult from–”

“Wait, wait…who told you you’re not from this planet?”

“It’s obvious”, Kara scoffed. “Clark’s not from this planet, and I can do most of what he can do.”

Linda placed a hand on Kara’s shoulder as she watched her own words begin to upset her. “I’m from this planet, Kara. How do you explain what I can do?”

Kara shrugged, her eyes telling Linda that she longed for an explanation too. Yet the silence between them confirmed that neither had the answer to the question. “What do you think I should do?”

“Do what you enjoy, Kara.” Linda stood up quickly, reaching for the bag of office supplies. “The rest will come to you…eventually.”

“Are you leaving again?”

Linda nodded. “I have one more errand to take care of.”
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“Sam? Emil? What brings you two here?” Charlie stood up quickly, allowing his desk chair to roll away until it came to a stop against the back wall. He walked around the desk, shaking Emil’s hand as he stared at Sam. “Sam…you’re alive…again.”

Sam laughed. “I guess it takes more then Lex Luthor to kill me.”

Charlie smiled and looked at Dr. Hamilton, then back at Sam. “So you two are working together now?”

Dr. Hamilton nodded, looking back at a smiling Sam. “We’re trying to discover how she works. She was actually developed by Tatsuo Takamura, who has recently turned up missing.”

“Missing?” Charlie picked up a business card laying on his desk, handing it to Dr. Hamilton. “If someone wants him found, you know–”

“That’s one of two reasons I’m here.” Dr. Hamilton sat down in one of Charlie’s office chairs, prompting Sam to do the same. Charlie pulled his rolling chair away from the wall and sat down as well. “Sam wanted to see you…but I would also like to talk to Mr. Takamura about his designs.”

“Given enough information, I think Linda and I can find him.” Charlie nodded slowly, looking across the desk at Sam. “Do you either have any clues?”

Emil shook his head ‘no’. “I’m afraid he had simply vanished without a trace. No evidence, no trail…nothing.”

“Hmm.” Charlie paused in thought for a moment before finally gaining the courage to ask his next question. “I do have to charge a fee, you know. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, I have an unlimited research grant from a certain benefactor in town. Money isn’t a problem.”

“Great.” Charlie stood up quickly, reaching across the desk to shake Emil’s hand. “It’s a deal, then. Linda and I will look for Mr. Takamura…and if we don’t find him, you don’t pay.”

As Sam and Dr. Hamilton left the office quickly, Charlie looked through the office quickly, eager to find Linda and tell her the news – that they have a paying client! When he couldn’t find her, he paused to talk to Kara. “Have you seen Linda?”

Kara shrugged. “She left. Something about an errand.”

Charlie looked at a plastic bag sitting on a table nearby, filled with office supplies. He remembered sending her to get a few office supplies – but if she finished that errand…

“I think she’s going to visit Lex Luthor.” Kara stared up at Charlie, smiling at his confused look.

“Oh, hell.” Charlie looked at the main entrance of the office, briefly thinking about following Linda, but quickly decided against it. He knew she could take care of herself…he just hoped she wouldn’t do anything too destructive to Luthor. He smiled back at Kara. “You’re quite the detective.”
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“Ah, Supergirl. Long time, no see.”

Lex Luthor didn’t even bother looking up from the journal he was writing as Linda entered his office through the balcony, in costume as Supergirl. She decided it would be easier to enter through there rather then have to fight her way up from the lobby.

Supergirl looked around her office, noticing one big difference from the last time she visited – in spite of his office being surrounded by bullet-proof glass, Lex Luthor most often kept the venetian blinds closed to retain a certain air in his office, one of darkness and mystery. But this time, all of the blinds were pulled up, letting bright sunlight permeate every corner of the room.

“The darkness made it seem that I had something to hide.” Luthor closed his journal and stood, making yet another uncharacteristic move – he walked around to the other side of his desk. “But now, on a personal level…I have nothing to hide. My triumphs, my troubles, are out in the open for the world to see.”

“I know what you’re up to, Lex”, Supergirl said in a soft voice. Her eyes were filled with anger, but she did her best to control it in her voice, and her actions.

Luthor shook his head and smiled. “I’m not sure what you mean, Supergirl. I’m not ‘up to’ anything. I’ve been give a second chance at life…and this time I’m not going to–”

“Yeah, right.” Supergirl folded her arms, watching Luthor intently as he crossed the room to pour himself a drink. “It’s just a new strategy in an old game, Lex. You know it, and I know it. I’m not stupid.”

Luthor took a sip of brandy and laughed. “I would expect this kind of behavior from Superman, but not you. I always thought you to be more intelligent, trusting, and compassionate then he is. One day his inherent distrust toward me is going the cost him.”

Luthor suddenly felt Supergirl’s white gloved hand wrap around his throat, her warm fingers gripping his jaw tightly as his feet left the floor suddenly. He looked down to see the fine crystal shot glass slip from his fingers, slowly falling to the carpet, bouncing once as the brandy it contained became reduced to a dark stain on the rug.

He could hear his heart beating in his ears as his breathing began to constrict – and two haunting blue eyes burned the anger they contained right through him, sending a quick shiver of fear through his mind. For the first time since he had known this Supergirl, in a white tee-shirt and blue skirt, he found her to be unpredictable…a thought that terrified him.

His sight began to dim as the lack of oxygen to his brain began his transition out of consciousness. His voice was not muted, but he would never beg for his life – he found that to be undignified. No, he would face her, and count on the fact that she was opposed to killing him…or was she? The anger he saw in those eyes…it seemed to him that it had no bounds.

“I’ll be watching you.”

Those whispered words were all Supergirl said before she suddenly released Luthor, watching him collapse to the carpet before she launched herself through the balcony doors with one powerful leap. A passing shadow and a gust of wind…she was gone.

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#12 – Rhythm, Part 1

Cassandra tapped a finger on a steel post as she waited impatiently for her turn. She felt like cattle as she waited in a lane marked by a velvet rope and steel poles much like the one she tapped on, staring at a sign which read ‘Wait here for next teller’. She was next, but it would apparently be a long wait – the man ahead of her asked for something beyond the abilities of the average bank teller, meaning the manager had to be called.

She began to feel a little conspicuous as she stood in line in her black long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Everyone else in the bank, the customer in front of her included, wore dark suits and formal wear. Sighing to herself, she wondered why Bruce sent her to the bank – it was just…strange for her to be standing there, thousands of dollars in cash to be deposited encased in a small leather pouch dangling almost carelessly from her left hand.

If anything, she guessed, it was an excersize in trust. Bruce simply handed her the pouch without hesitation, and sent her to the bank – totally secure in the knowledge that she would indeed be able to take it there with almost no risk to herself or the cash. He knew that no one would be able to successfully take it from her by force.

As she leaned against the steel pole, using her foot against the base for leverage, she felt both confident and bored. Bruce gave her an easy task, one that would take no effort to complete – once the man in front of her left – but she also felt that she had been given a task which fell short of her abilities.

Cassandra suddenly felt the heat of anger fill her as she watched a man in jeans and a dark jacket walk right past her, cutting ahead of her in line. She was just about to protest…but something didn’t feel right. He was much too focused as he approached the counter, not bored as she was. It seemed like he had a specific task in mind. She was a little surprised when she realized that none of the bank’s employees seemed to notice.

The man in the jacket walked straight up to the counter, whispering something to the teller softly as he hovered his hand over one of the jacket pockets. The teller turned pale, and the customer she worked with took a couple of steps back. It was a robbery.

Cassandra knew that something was seriously wrong by now – but she decided to remain casual, and pretend to be ignorant of what was happening. She continued leaning back against the pole as she eyed the pocket the man indicated to a moment earlier – it seemed weighted, as if there were something heavy in there…possibly a gun.

The customer wearing the suit was slinking toward the exit – a bad move when someone was attempting to rob the bank. The teller made the mistake of raising her eyes to look at the man as she loaded the cash from her drawer into a bag the robber brought with him. The robber quickly drew his gun, pointing it at the man trying to make a slow but sure exit.

He ran for the door once he saw the gun, another stupid move. Cassandra flinched as the ear-shattering sound of the robber’s gun firing echoed through the mostly silent bank. He missed – glass shards began crashing to the floor from one of the large outside windows as it collapsed from the impact of the bullet.

The suited man almost made it. He could have raced to his car, driven far away, and forgot about the robbery – and the robber would never have hit him with such horrible aim. But instead, he panicked as he watched the glass shatter next to him, and slowly shuffled back into the bank, hands raised.

“On your knees”, the robber ordered. He looked at Cassandra, who simply gave him a hollow look. He turned away from her, thinking her not to be any threat to his plans. He snatched the bag of cash, and turned toward the exit, suddenly pausing as he noticed Cassandra now standing in front of him silently.

“Out of my way”, he growled.

Cassandra smiled softly as she took two slow steps back. As the robber approached her, prepared to shove her aside, he found his feet tangled on one of her sneakers – and promptly fell flat on his face, dropping the gun to the floor next to him.

He rose quickly, anger rising within him as he heard the teller and suit-wearing customer snickering. He reached for his gun…but it was gone – and standing several feet away was the young woman who tripped him, casually holding the gun at her side. “Give me that, kid.”

Cassandra’s condescending laugh only made things worse. The man stood on his feet, and started walking toward her quickly.

“I’m going to take that gun, and then I’m going to shoot you.”

As he started walking toward her more quickly, she began backing away until she reached the glass wall of the bank. There was nowhere else to go. She slowly raised the gun, pointing it toward him as a warning. She really didn’t want to fight him, and risk giving herself away.

He laughed at the sight of her raising the gun, lunging at her for his own amusement. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”

As Cassandra watched the man’s amused expression, she imagined him reaching out to grab her by the throat, and shake her. She felt so small, so fragile as he yelled at her with enough alcohol on his bad smelling breath to intoxicate her. He shook her, and shook her…then carried her to her room to seal her in, as if it were a vault, for what would seem like days. Alone.

No more.

The sound of a gun firing once again filled the near silent bank. In front of Cassandra stood a man devoid of his formerly jovial mood. Blood streamed from the center of his chest, tricking down like a thick, red waterfall to the floor. His eyes registered surprise at being beaten by her…then fear as he felt the pain of his life slipping away.

He suddenly collapsed to the floor as silence once again filled the bank. Then a loud clack as the gun slipped from Cassandra’s hand to a spot next to the man’s head, followed by the leather pouch she held in her other hand. She looked at the teller and the customer who was in the bank – they both stared at her in shock.

“Oh my God”, Cassandra whispered softly. She had the strongest urge to run from the bank…to run away, never to be seen again by anyone. But she couldn’t – part of her new life was a new level of responsibility. It was something she hated, but she could no longer escape. She would face her fears, and be a better person for it…or so she hoped.
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“What do you think?”

Barbara Gordon dismissed the question from Tim as she sat in her wheelchair in the doorway of what was once an entrance between a hallway and a room in someone’s home. Cassandra’s home, to be exact, before a fire reduced all of the walls and floors to ash.

The room was empty, covered in soot. But the one thing that made it unique was the window, which Tim, as Robin, broke while helping Batman rescue Cassandra from the fire.

The house had been boarded up and placed on the market for sale long ago. Its interior remained a time capsule, a window into a moment in time which remained a mystery to all but its sole survivor…Cassandra.

“I think this place could use a coat of paint.” Barbara smiled as she noticed Tim frown in response. She could tell he was trained by Bruce – always dead serious when investigating something.

“No, I meant–”

Ignoring Tim again, Barbara began tracing small lines etched into the darkened ceiling above. She remembered that the lines were layers of soot deposited by the flames, and would lead to their source. It would be an excellent way to estimate where the original fire was set.

She suddenly paused as the etch marks ran down a wall inside another bedroom. They all seemed to point to one corner…where a hole had burned through the carpeting and the underlying hardwood floorboards. She glanced around the room, noticing a bathroom off of the back corner. This was the master bedroom.

Barbara closed her eyes, trying to imagine a queen sized bed under the blinds-covered window opposite the door, and furniture lining the walls. The only source of light was from an alarm clock next to the left side of the bed.

A young woman stepped through the doorway, her path lit by flame. In her hand, a home-made torch of wood, cloth, and gasoline. Her angry frown lit from below by an orange-red flickering glow, and her eyes show pain from years of either abuse or neglect…as well as a certain sadness. Her life as she knows it was about to come to an end…and she was willing, if only to put an end to theirs as well.

The young woman eyed the bed, making sure that the two adults peacefully sleeping didn’t see her. There would be no escape once the fire began spreading. She dropped the torch to the floor, right next to the doorway, walking backwards slowly as she watched the flames spread. Burn. Burn, and never harm anyone again.

Barbara cringed as she opened her eyes suddenly. It was helpful to try and think like the suspect, but it was sometimes frightening as well. She looked down at her hands as she tried to calm herself – they were shaking. She could still feel the young woman’s anger.

“You okay, Barbara?”

“I was just daydreaming.” She smiled and nodded at Tim as she backed her wheelchair into the hallway and headed back toward Cassandra’s former bedroom. “Once the fire was set, she ran this way. This carpet started to burn quickly, so she probably barely made it to her room…and slammed the door shut behind her.”

Barbara rolled into the room and spun around to face Tim. “She was in here, scared…as smoke started to pour in around the doorway. She was next to the window because–”

“–Her bed was here”, Tim interrupted. I remember. It was right next to the window, and it was starting to burn. It flared up when I broke the window.”

“Hmm.” Barbara rolled over to the window to look at the window frame. It had nails in it. “It looks like she couldn’t get out. Her parents must have nailed all of the windows shut…which is why they didn’t escape, either.”

“Or maybe she did.”

“No.” Barbara shook her head as she spun around again. “She didn’t plan this. It doesn’t fit. This was a spur of the moment thing, probably right after she’d been punished somehow…”

“–yes, punished, young lady!” A tall man towered over a young, dark haired teenager. She looked at the floor, carefully avoiding his gaze.

Minutes earlier, the police had come knocking at the door. They were pulling the teen closely behind them in handcuffs. They calmly explained that she had been caught inside the a fenced-in garden at the park. She didn’t resist when they attempted to remove her…which is why they took her home instead of arresting her.

“But…I just went in to take some litter that–”

“I don’t want to hear your whiny excuses, Cassandra!” The tall man snatched a handful of her hair, pulling her down the hallway toward her bedroom. She could smell the alcohol on his breath…again…as he kicked open the door and threw her clear across the room, face first onto the bed.

She looked up to see a wild, crazed look in his eyes as he began shaking his index finger at her, his entire body trembling with anger. He reached for a heavy book sitting on a chest next to the doorway – a large bible – and threw it at her as hard as he could. She ducked, and cringed as it hit the top of her head faster then she could avoid it.

“You must repent, Cassandra! You must pray now, before your sins doom this entire family to the fires of hell!” He walked closer to Cassandra, angrily yanking the bible off of her bed and opening it to a bookmarked page. “You will be consumed in the eternal flames, Cassandra! Is that what you want? Huh?”

“Yes.” Cassandra gave her father a devilish smile as she slowly rose to her feet atop the bed. She watched him switch from anger to horror as she took the bible from his hands and threw it into the hallway.

As he began backing toward the door, she stared at him steadily, keeping her smile as she walked toward him. “I want the fires. I want them to burn us all.”

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“…And then he must have slapped her or something. Or maybe locked her in the room…I can’t be sure. All I know is, there was a burned out bible still lying in the hallway.”

Bruce rubbed his chin slowly as he sat in his office chair, watching Barbara Gordon lean against one arm of her wheelchair as he considered the scenario that she came up with. Tim sat backwards in one of the office’s guest chairs, looking from Bruce to Barbara and then back, but remaining silent.

“I find it hard to understand how she can kill her parents simply because they weren’t caring enough.” Bruce stood and paced around the room once before finally leaning against his desk. “There has to be another ingredient in this.”

“There is.” Barbara rolled closer to Bruce’s desk, prompting Tim to lean in closer as well. “I don’t think she tried to kill them. I think she just wanted to scare them.”

Bruce nodded. “Go on.”

“You see, Cassandra has this fascination for danger, and dangerous things. She plays with fire, defies gravity, and takes on deadly criminals without much thought.”

“And she’s good at it, too”, Tim interrupted. He shrugged and placed his chin on the back of the chair when Bruce and Barbara stared at him.

“Tim has a point”, Barbara continued, “She is good at it. And that gives her power over those who fear the danger she toys with. I think she meant to scare her parents with a little fire and brimstone of her own…but it got out of control.”

“So she’s seriously disturbed”, Tim interrupted again, “But only dangerous to people who fear her?”

Barbara smiled and looked at Bruce. Just as she guessed, he seemed entertained by that idea – it made her just a little more like him. “In a way, yes. But she also needs to learn that the dangers she toys with can hurt her, as well. I don’t want to wait until tragety strikes for her to understand that.”

“She has already injured herself on several occasions.” Bruce returned to his desk chair and leaned back. “Yet it doesn’t even slow her down. She’s still extremely reckless. It’s putting both of us in danger.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Tim sat up and stared coldly at Bruce. He took Bruce’s comments a little personally. “Cassandra did everything she could to protect me on that last mission, Bruce. She wanted me to return home safely. She made sure I would. Cassandra only puts herself in danger.”

“Then tell me, Tim”, Bruce said in a low voice, without even reacting to Tim’s stare, “Why did she go back into a burning building?”

“Because she wanted to make sure you were all right, Bruce.” Tim stood and shoved the chair aside, stepping forward to lean on Bruce’s desk. “She cares about you, like it or not. She doesn’t want you or anyone else hurt.”

“Explain to me then, Tim–” Bruce leaned forward on his desk, his eyes glossing over with his cold, Batman persona. “How our compassionate Cassandra beat a man to death with her bare hands.”

Tim angrily tore a small halogen lamp off of Bruce’s desk, and hurled it across the room hard enough for it to smash against the wood-paneled wall. He stormed all the way to the door, hand perched on its edge, prepared to slam it shut behind him. “Cassandra killed to protect me! Or maybe you would prefer if I was dead…so you can be right once again!”

Barbara cringed at the sound of the office door slamming hard enough to pressurize the air in the room for a moment. She gave Bruce a look of pity as he sighed and leaned back in his chair again. She knew that he prized control over all else – something that he was losing rapidly. But control was always an illusion – her wheelchair was a daily reminder of that.

“Bruce…you have to admit, the two of them made an excellent team. They improvised, and made it through that last mission without a single scratch.”

Barbara rolled closer to Bruce’s desk, noting that he seemed a little sad. It meant that she was getting through to him. “And it was a rough mission. You and I both know that. They went in blind, and came out intact.”

“I know that, Barbara…And I do appreciate it.” Bruce took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. His office was getting darker, it was almost time to go to the Bat Cave. “I just worry about Cassandra. She’s not Supergirl…she can’t afford to be so protective.”

“When I first hit the streets, Bruce, I didn’t know my limits. So I was always cautious. And you know what?” Barbara quickly lifted herself out of her wheelchair with her arms and slid onto Bruce’s desk. She looked a little sad as she leaned across the desk to face Bruce. “It took confinement to a wheelchair for me to learn my limits.”

“I want Cassandra to learn her limits on her own”, Barbara continued as she turned away from Bruce. Her eyes were beginning to tear. “So she’ll never end up…like me.”
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Cassandra silently closed the door to Bruce’s office as she watched him hand a tissue to Barbara. Not another word was spoken in the office, even as Cassandra turned and headed back toward her room. She would have left her listening spot behind the office’s door on her own eventually…but as she watched Bruce quietly hand Barbara that tissue, it suddenly didn’t seem appropriate to spy on the conversation any longer.

She paused suddenly along the way back to her room as she spotted Tim, sitting on a bench, leaned forward and staring out of one of the giant hallway windows at the pouring rain outside. He didn’t look happy, either.

“Hey.” Cassandra sat sideways on the bench, facing Tim. He didn’t respond. “I love rain.”

“Cassandra…do you enjoy killing?”

She laughed at first, thinking that Tim was joking. But then she frowned as she realized from his steady stare that he was absolutely serious. “N-No.”

“Frankly–” Tim turned away from her again, bowing his head as he looked out the window. “After what happened on that last mission…I watched you beat a man to death, Cassandra. It was one of the most painful things I’ve seen in my life. I’m…a little afraid of you, of what you’re becoming. But I’m also afraid for you. I can see Bruce killing, but for you…it just seems…wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” Cassandra continued looking straight at Tim as she spoke, exhibiting confidence…yet her eyes betrayed the feelings trapped behind them as her memory rushed back to the image of blood covering her gloved hands and costume. She visibly cringed as she remembered the feeling of panic when she saw the man’s body grow still in her hands. “I…I’m afraid too.”

“You’re afraid you’ll kill someone?”

A slow nod from Cassandra caused Tim to place one hand on her shoulder. She bowed her head and looked away from him, as if she were confessing to him a crime of weakness. Bruce disliked weaknesses – she assumed that his protegee would be the same way.

But she guessed wrong. Tim reached out and placed his other hand under her chin, turning her head to face him. His eyes looked serious as she stared into them. “I am too, Cassandra. It’s not unusual to be afraid of killing someone in this line of work. Even cops are afraid of that.”

“No. It’s…different.” Cassandra slid to the other end of the bench, away from Tim and took a deep breath as she looked away again. “I…lost control. I was angry, I just kept hitting him. He begged, but I didn’t hear.”

Tim opened his mouth for a moment to say something – but he couldn’t put together the words to respond. His eyes registered surprise as his memory recalled what he had seen in the lobby. The foreign assassin did indeed beg for his life. And Cassandra did keep hitting him…until he died.

“The good news, Cassandra–“, Tim said slowly, “Is that you know what happened. If you understand what happened, you can fix it.”

Cassandra was giving Tim only half her attention. The rest was focused on the fact that the sun had set, and darkness was about to descend on Gotham City. She nodded once to acknowledge that she heard what Tim said, and stood up slowly, offering a hand to Tim. “It’s time.”
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“Excuse me?” A woman sitting on a bench in a Gotham City park looked up from her book momentarily to see who stood in front of her. She gasped out loud as she realized who it was – pasty white face, green hair, and purple jacket…

“I asked you, madam, if you had the time.” Joker leaned closer to the woman, hands behind his back. “You see, my watch seems to have come unwound.”

To punctuate his words, Joker’s watch suddenly blew apart, sending random metallic springs in the woman’s direction. She screamed and dropped her book before falling off of the bench, and then running as fast as she could across the park. Joker laughed to himself and shook his head. “I don’t understand. Who can resist a spring through the park?”

Joker began laughing out loud, as two men in purple jump suits approached him from behind, doing their best to humor him with laughs of their own as they carried two large steel boxes by their top-mounted handles to spots next to the bench. They quickly opened the boxes, and began removing metal and plastic parts.

“What’s this, boss?” One of the two finally had the courage to pipe up. Considering that Joker had just hired them off the streets an hour earlier, it was a brave gesture. “Looks like a satellite dish. We watching TV?”

The second man cringed as the crack of a gun going off broke the silence in the park. The first man collapsed, a red stain forming on his purple jump suit. A hole was left through both the front and back of his clothing…and Joker began laughing.

“Ask a stupid question.” Joker laughed as he blew on the smoke trail drifting out of the revolver he held in his hand.

“You…You killed him”, the second man stuttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Joker leveled the gun at the second man’s head, laughter quickly breaking through the mock sympathy in his voice, the man began to tremble in fear. “You two were a matching pair, weren’t you?”

The words ‘Please, no!’ drifted skyward into the darkness, just before another loud crack tore through the park. As the second man lay on the ground, his head shattered into several pieces by the overly-powerful ammunition Joker insisted on using, Joker simply left the boxes behind and began walking down the street, humming a happy tune to himself.
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“Working late?” The lobby security guard at the headquarters of Wayne Enterprises nodded at a man in a suit, hat, gloves, and overcoat. He didn’t recognize the man, but since he wore an expensive suit, and was leaving the building, he couldn’t be much trouble. Though it did bother him a little that he couldn’t see the man’s face – his collar was turned up. “Sign out, please.”

The man approached the desk in the lobby, snatching the pen almost angrily from the guard’s hand and scribbling something in the log book. Without a word, he dropped the pen onto the desk, turning to leave quickly.

“Robert, huh? Mind telling me where you work?”

He turned around slowly and dug in the pocket of his overcoat for a moment, pulling out a shiny silver colored object, shoving it in the security guard’s face. “I’m a police officer. I’m looking for a young woman named Cassandra. She came here with Bruce Wayne a few times. Where does she live?”

The security guard narrowed his eyes. He was starting to become a little suspicious. “Police officer? Let me see some I.D.”

Robert slipped a business card out of the pocket of his overcoat and handed it to the security guard. It said ‘Det. Robert James.’ “Call my supervisor. He knows who I am.”

“At this time of the night? No one will be there.” The security guard sat down and looked at the log book again. “Look…this Cassandra you’re looking for is a close personal friend of Mr. Wayne’s. You can’t just walk in here and ask where she lives.”

The security guard suddenly screamed in pain as Robert grabbed a handful of his hair and slammed his head against the desk twice. “You will tell me…or you will die. Do you understand? You have a family, right?”

The security guard nodded quickly as Robert produced an automatic pistol and jammed it under his nose. He closed his eyes and began sobbing, and begging incoherently for his life. “Please…I–”

“That’s not the answer I was looking for!” Robert slammed the guard’s head against the edge of the solid wood desk again, causing his forehead to split open and begin spilling blood down his face.

“She lives at Wayne Manor! Really! Please, don’t kill me!”

“I won’t kill you. I promise.” Robert turned the gun around in his gloved hands, squeezing the handle into one of the security guard’s hand’s tightly. He turned the barrel of the gun toward the guard’s nose. “But I won’t stop you from killing yourself.”

He began laughing as he turned quickly and walked toward the doors of the lobby. The security guard wanted so badly to shoot him in the back, to do anything to stop him…but he couldn’t. He was simply paralyzed with fear.

The gun fell to the ground as the security guard began sobbing. Since his first day as a security guard with Wayne Enterprises, he thought he had a nice, quiet job with a pension. He would never get that pension…the next morning, he would turn in his resignation.
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“I could never even think about quitting.” Tim, already fully in costume, leaned against the left fender of the Batmobile as he and Cassandra quietly waited for Bruce to finish looking up some information on his computer. Cassandra wore most of her costume, with the exception of the mask. She was lying on the hood of the car, staring up at the cave ceiling above, admiring the many ridges and features formed of solid rock.

“I know Dick sort of quit”, Tim rambled on, “But he didn’t really. He’s still doing this too, just with another name and costume.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Tim turned around to face Cassandra, the soft sound she made convincing him that she wasn’t paying attention to anything he just said. He frowned as he noticed her lying on the extremely steep hood of the Batmobile. “How do you do that without sliding off?”

Cassandra shrugged, smiling in response to Tim’s question. She didn’t take her eyes off of the ceiling. The patterns in the rock were just mesmerizing. Some rocks were cut, some left natural. But the patterns the process of creating the Bat Cave left behind were accidental artwork in their own right.

She guessed that the cave was originally filled with water, hundreds of years ago – a relentless force which relentlessly chipped away and smoothed the rocks for decades until a cavern formed. She wondered if the water might return one day, only to eat away at all of Bruce’s valuable property and equipment.

“Let’s go.”

Watching Batman walk past her quickly toward the driver’s side of the car, Cassandra carefully rolled of off of the hood of the car and climbed into the back through the passenger side. Cramped as it was, the poor excuse for a back seat was where she liked to be. While she sat back there, she went virtually unnoticed by either Batman or Robin. She even remembered taking a short nap or two.

But not today. Their destination was only minutes away, and a rather unusual location – they stopped in the alley behind a hospital. Cassandra quickly put on her mask and tapped Robin’s shoulder, turning her palms up to silently ask him what was going on. He just shrugged.

“Robin, you’re with me. Batgirl, get to the roof…keep an eye out. And stay out of sight.”

Batgirl silently fumed about being left as a lookout as she watched Batman and Robin slip through a side entrance into the hospital. Now she would never know what was going on. But as she used a cable launcher to ascend quickly up the side of the building, and felt the cool rain on her face, she knew that she had the better part of the deal.

She quickly attached the cable launcher to her belt and gripped the edge of the roof with her gloved hands. Cable still attached, she pulled herself onto the slick gravel and tar roof, unwinding the cable from a small steel vent and reeling it back into the launcher.

As soon as she paused for a moment, she noticed a maintenance worker on the roof pointing a flashlight down a large vent at the other end of the roof. She didn’t even breathe for several seconds, until she was sure that he didn’t spot her. She felt relieved when she realized that he not only didn’t see her, but that the vent contained a rather loud air conditioning compressor. He wouldn’t hear her even if she stomped across the roof.

A quick dash toward a small shed and a carefully executed standing slide across part of the rain-slicked roof gave Batgirl some shelter, just in case the maintenance man decided to take a look around the roof. She slipped into the shed and closed the door behind her quickly, using a grated vent at the top of the shed to keep an eye on the man. She wondered when he would leave – but he just stood there, looking at that compressor.

She sighed and sat down on a discarded stool, leaning back against the shed’s steel wall as she began listening to the soothing sound of the raindrops hitting the steel roof above her head. The sound made her feel happy, contented. She was on her own once again, free to enjoy the environment around her. And most important, the fact that it was raining harder meant the maintenance guy would probably retreat back into the building, leaving the roof to her.

Or would he?

Batgirl sat up suddenly as she heard a faint sound just outside the shed. She silently rose from the stool, moving as far into a dark corner as she could. Another sound, still faint, but this time closer. Her heart began beating quickly as she reached down and picked up the stool, holding is as a shield, or maybe a weapon, in from of her.

The door to the shed creaked, and began opening slowly. As soon as it partially opened, a shadow of a man moved partway inside. Batgirl slammed the stool into the shadow, hearing the breath rush out of the man’s lungs from the impact. She spun around quickly, landing her boot on the side of his head, knocking him to the ground.

She raced out of the shed, intent on putting as much distance as possible between her and the man she had just knocked down. But her plans were cut short as she slammed into…Batman?

Batgirl turned her head quickly as she watched Robin stumble out of the shed, holding onto the side of his head and groaning softly. She rushed over to his side, propping one arm across her shoulders. “I’m so sorry”, she whispered. Robin just waved her apology away, and smiled at her.

As soon as the trio returned to the Bat Cave, Cassandra removed her mask and raced to a small freezer to fetch an ice pack. She offered it to Robin – he refused it at first, but relented when she became insistent. Neither one of them noticed when Bruce returned out of costume and stood imposingly in front of them. He didn’t look happy.

“Cassandra, you need to improve your recognition skills. And Tim…she wouldn’t have even heard you coming if you hadn’t made so much noise.”

Cassandra suddenly remembered why, while hearing the sounds from the shed, she assumed it was the maintenance man – she noticed, while the man looked at that air conditioning compressor, that he was fairly large. The sound she heard was a faint creaking caused by rubber boots rubbing against a rain-slicked tar roof – boots worn by someone big.

She smiled and shook her head at Bruce. “He’s lighter. I heard you.”

Tim wanted to gloat, to point out that Cassandra was right. But an icy glare from Bruce put an end to any such thoughts.

“I’m glad you’ve all returned.” Alfred walked into the Bat Cave carrying a small package wrapped in thin paper. They were some sort of flowers – tulips, to be exact. “A package was delivered while you were gone.”

“Looks like you have a secret admirer, Bruce.” Tim smiled and nudged him. He responded with a sly smile of his own.

“No, Master Tim. This package was addressed to…Cassandra.”

“Cassandra?” Tim and Bruce both spoke her name at once, as they turned to stare at her in confusion. She barely even left the house except with one of the two, or Barbara. A mysterious stranger sending her flowers was inconceivable.

As she gently took the package of white tulips from Alfred, she searched them quickly, only to find that no card or return address was attached. They were just flowers, from someone she didn’t know…

…And that thought terrified her.

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#11 – The Sound Of Silence, Part 2

Cassandra sat on a plain wooden bench, her head hanging as police officers passed her looking down at her as if she were common street scum. She was supposed to be a hero – yet there she was, chained to a wall by a pair of steel handcuffs like a common criminal.

The last thing she remembered was punching a man – no, a sickening creature who preyed on those weaker then himself – and feeling proud of herself for it. She may not have been able to protect the woman he attacked, but she did manage to make him feel a penalty for what he had done.

Unfortunately, the two police officers on the scene didn’t feel the same way. Before Cassandra knew what had happened, one of the two officers slammed her against a nearby parked car. She struggled, tried to fight him – but she relented as she realized it was a futile struggle. Fighting the police for doing their job would be plain stupid.

So she sat on a bench, waiting for Barbara to arrive. At least she hoped it would be Barbara that Tim would call – asking Bruce for help would be adding insult to injury. He always told her, and Tim, to stay away from law enforcement. He wouldn’t care that her cause was just.

“You’re sprung. He dropped the charges.”

Cassandra looked up to see the officer which arrested her standing over her. He reached behind her gently and removed the handcuffs. As he did, he whispered in her ear, something she didn’t expect. ‘Nice punch…just don’t get caught next time.’

She nodded, trying her best to mask a smile as she stood and took her jacket and sunglasses from him. She glanced toward the door, and felt shock surge through her as she caught the sight of…him…heading out of the police station as well. She gave the officer a questioning look.

“Since you…assaulted him”, the officer answered, anticipating her question, “We had to release him until his trial. It was a deal – he drops his charges if we reduce his bail.”

Cassandra sighed and bowed her head as she headed toward the door. That scum was free to walk the streets…and it was her own fault. She noticed Tim standing outside the glass doors, and headed directly toward him. He seemed upset when she stepped outside.

“I couldn’t find Barbara, but I did manage to sneak away with Bruce’s Jaguar. I had no idea how I’d get you out of here. You’re just lucky you’re so…lucky.”

As Cassandra paused to smile at him, his frown was slowly replaced with a smile. He took her jacket and placed one arm across her shoulders as she put her sunglasses on.

“Bruce is going to kill us when he finds out about the car, you know.”

Tim and Cassandra climbed into Bruce’s Jaguar, only peripherally aware of a man sitting in an old beat up car across the parking lot. He wore a black baseball cap, and was aiming a camera directly at one of them…Cassandra.

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“This subject is an interesting one.” Bruce tapped a pencil against his chin as he stared at a police lineup photo of a tall man with dark hair, known only to them as ‘Robert’.

“You don’t have to call them ‘subjects’, Bruce.” Barbara rolled her wheelchair across the room with one smooth motion, her natural athleticism giving her an advantage, in spite of her inability to walk. “This isn’t a hospital. In fact, it’s a cave, which probably violates several zoning laws.”

Bruce laughed, partly to acknowledge, and partly to dismiss Barbara’s comment. “This…Robert…was arrested for rape and murder. Yet he was released because he was assaulted by a small, dark-haired young woman who refused to identify herself, and consequently, the officers couldn’t remember mirandizing him.”

“Couldn’t they identify her by her fingerprints?”

After reading for several seconds, Bruce shook his head. “They didn’t take prints. No charges were filed against her, so she was released as well. Robert dropped the assault charges, and the officers were reluctant to file interference with arrest charges.”

Barbara smiled. “I guess they felt sorry for her. But why did she assault him? Was she a witness?”

Bruce sighed and began searching through the rest of the police reports on his computer. Barbara, back in her days as Batgirl, showed him how to tap into the police crime database, so he could more efficiently keep track of unusual crime sprees or arrests. It made him a more efficient crime fighter.

He suddenly paused at one report, and leaned forward to make sure he was reading it correctly. “This is interesting. Alfred?”

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

Bruce stood and looked at Barbara for a second. “Would you please see if my Miata is parked in the garage?”

Alfred nodded and headed back toward the house. “I will, Master Bruce.”

“What is it? What does it say?” Barbara rolled closer to the computer to read the screen as Bruce paced back and forth. “Oh my God…”

“Cassandra.” Bruce folded his arms and frowned as he watched Cassandra and Tim enter the Bat Cave. They were both smiling, which made him even angrier.

As soon as she walked through the door, Cassandra could feel eyes on her. Bruce gave her a cold stare from across the room, Barbara gave her a look of disappointment and pity. Even Alfred stared, though his gaze was more of a dignified warning.

“My car, Cassandra. Where is it?”

Cassandra shrugged. She turned around to look at Tim, just as he was about to say something to defend her. But instead of allowing him to, she quickly gestured for him to leave. She took a deep breath before answering, “It crashed.”

Bruce leaned his forehead against his right hand and sighed deeply. “That car is registered to me, Cassandra. What happens if this incident is linked directly to me?”

“Fine.” Cassandra stepped closer to Bruce, staring at him angrily and speaking just above a whisper. She couldn’t believe he cared more about his car and reputation then her or Tim. “Say it was stolen. I can handle it.”

His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to Cassandra, his icy stare penetrating to her very core. She knew from those eyes that he had gone into his uncaring, cold Batman persona. He was insulated from all feeling, his only drive being logic and unrestrained anger bottled up from his past. As he leaned closer, he only said one word. “Done.”

Cassandra looked at Barbara for a second as she watched Bruce head straight for the telephone, picked up the handset, and began dialing. She became a little worried – Bruce was a master at bluffing, but–

“Bruce…come on!” Barbara rolled toward him quickly, but he grabbed the metal armrest of her wheelchair quickly to hold her at arm’s length, not missing a beat as he finished dialing. He seemed surprised when the phone suddenly went dead – Barbara was smiling, holding the other end of the cord.

He scowled as he watched Cassandra trying, but failing to mask her smile. She was amused by Barbara’s stunt – and the fact that she had outsmarted the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’. Her smile disappeared quickly, however, as he stood in front of her, a picture of anger towering above her.

“Laugh now, Cassandra….Enjoy yourself. You’ll be crying after our mission tonight.”

Without another word, Bruce headed back into the house silently. Cassandra glanced at Barbara again, who shrugged and smiled at her. “Don’t let him scare you, Cassandra. He treats you like an amateur…but you’ve got what it takes.”
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“I can’t believe you took the rap for me.” Tim stood next to the closed door of the bathroom off of Cassandra’s room, as she lingered inside changing into her Batgirl costume. Tim already wore his, with the exception of the mask. “He’s already so much tougher on you then he is on me, because–”

Tim stepped back as the door opened quickly, and Cassandra stepped out dressed in her leather costume, boots, and gloves. She held the mask in her right hand, neatly folded, leaving her face and dark shoulder length hair exposed. He noticed that she didn’t tie her hair up this time, or stuff it into her costume. Tim had to smile – Cassandra’s small rebellions were rather entertaining to him. “Because he knows you’re as good as he is. Don’t let him get to you…he just hates competition.”

Cassandra smiled and gave Tim a ‘thumbs up’ with her left hand. She indicated toward the door with her head. “Let’s go.”

He followed Cassandra, looking down at the ground as his mind swam with thoughts. He had to appreciate her enthusiasm – Bruce had promised her a harrowing night, yet she was bright, happy, and excited about the challenge. She didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Yet unlike Cassandra, Tim found himself feeling a little afraid. The Bat team shared it’s experiences – if it would be something designed to terrify her, he couldn’t imagine what it would do to him.

Tim paused to notice that Cassandra had stopped in the entryway to the Bat Cave. She held his hand in her gloved left hand tightly and smiled. “Don’t worry.”

As he followed Cassandra down the stairway to the Bat Cave, he smiled at Cassandra’s words. They were so simple, yet a hundred percent correct. ‘Don’t worry’, she said. It explained so much of how she didn’t let any of Bruce’s threats get to her, of how she saw every mission as an adventure, no matter how dangerous. He knew at that moment that she, too, was afraid…but she refused to allow it to control her.

“What’s the big mission, Bruce?” Tim quickly put on his mask and headed straight over to Bruce, who already wore his costume complete. Bruce was obviously using his computer to do research – but when Tim approached, he quickly turned it off. Tim frowned. “We might benefit from some information too, you know.”

“I’ll tell you what you need to know.” Bruce stood quickly, frowning at Cassandra when he noticed that she still held the mask part of her costume in her right hand. His disapproving look and cold eyes told her that Bruce had also changed his persona to the Dark Knight. “Let’s go.”

As was usual when Batman used a mission as a test, he began by racing to the Batmobile. Presumably, those who didn’t manage to enter the car before he started it up and drove away would be left behind – but as of yet, neither Batgirl nor Robin took that chance. They were both in the car by the time it tore out into the darkness outside.

Cassandra glanced at Robin for a moment before slipping her mask over her head, allowing her black hair to flow from under it, onto her shoulders. Her eyes showed a little bit of fear of the unknown – but her bright, anticipating smile brought confidence. She was now Batgirl…and as far as the world knew, she was invincible.

It seemed only a short time had passed before the Batmobile screeched to a stop on a small side street in Gotham City. The street was dark, and damp from the near constant rains the city had lately, though at the moment it was only drizzling. Batgirl stepped outside immediately behind Batman, and paused to look straight up at what could easily be one of the tallest buildings in Gotham City. She sighed deeply, anticipating what had to be part of the test – heading to the top, fighting the wind and cold rain.

“Suite 4520. Blue notebook”, Batman whispered in a low voice. He looked directly at Batgirl before he completed his sentence. “No distractions this time. I’ll be on the floor above.”

Batgirl frowned as she watched Batman fire a cable launcher at a ledge on a high floor above. She knew he would bring up the incident with Catwoman again. It upset her, the way he used it as a weapon to tear down her confidence. She looked over at Robin, who stood next to her looking straight up the side of the building.

“Time to go to work.” He sighed as he removed a cable launcher from his belt and pointed it straight up. Just as he was about to fire it, he felt a gloved hand grip his wrist tightly. Batgirl shook her head slowly and pointed at a side entrance nearby. “What about security…?”

Before Robin finished his sentence, Batgirl had already picked the lock on the glass side door and held it open for him. He sighed and rushed inside quickly.
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The lavish wood, marble, and glass three story high lobby of the building was enormous, yet empty. The lights still burned, and the air conditioning still ran full blast, chilling the two of them as they walked in still wet from the rain outside. The guard’s desk was deserted, since the building had been locked up and secured. Robin ducked behind a pillar as he removed a Bat Wing from his belt, and watched Batgirl do the same. They nodded at each other, each eyeing the two cameras in the lobby. They were on the same wavelength now, working as a single entity – two Bat Wings flew through the lobby, knocking both security cameras out of alignment.

Batgirl rose first, heading straight to the elevators. She tapped the ‘up’ button, waiting patiently as the elevator car slowly headed toward the lobby. She smiled as she noticed that Robin seemed to be awestruck at the simplicity with which Batgirl was handling this little break-in – while Batman struggled up the rain slicked sides of the building, Batgirl simply went inside to use the elevator. It was almost as if she was making a mockery of all of his effort.

As soon as the elevator opened slowly, a carefully aimed cable launcher destroyed the camera before the doors completely opened. At Batgirl’s urging, Robin followed reluctantly.

Oddly enough, Robin didn’t feel nervous until the elevator car started to move. Once it reached the 45th floor, they had no idea who or what would be there. Everything seemed to go so smoothly…too smoothly. He looked over at Batgirl, to see her still smiling, apparently full of anticipation at what was around the next corner.

“I said don’t worry.” Batgirl stared at Robin, smiling as the elevator approached it’s destination.

He was unsure whether her soothing words made him feel more confident, or more frightened – she carried herself like a professional, like someone who has been doing this for years. Yet Robin knew she had been there only a fraction of the time he had been. Was she a natural? Or just reckless? He cringed at the answer, the one which stared him in the face when she came home bruised and bleeding. She was going to get them both killed.

Robin nudged Batgirl and pointed at the hatch in the center of the elevator’s ceiling – if anyone was on the 45th floor, he wanted to keep their element of surprise. That could only be done if the elevator appeared empty. He breathed a sigh of relief as she nodded and slipped through the hatch quickly, offering him a hand to help him as he did the same.

Batgirl watched intently as the doors opened on the 45th floor. It was silent, not a soul in sight. But she could smell something…strange. She dropped through the hatch, quickly swinging out into the hallway, looking behind her to make sure Robin safely followed.

“Chemicals.” Robin looked up at the ceiling, sniffing the air as he stared at one of the florescent lights. He tried to reach one of the ceiling tiles, but he wasn’t tall enough. He looked at Batgirl and motioned upward, hoping she would understand – and in a second, she had lifted him up by his legs. He pushed one of the tiles aside, and stuck his head inside the ceiling…only for an instant. He suddenly began losing his balance as he began to panic over what he had seen, crashing to the floor next to Batgirl.

“What?”

“We have to get out. The building’s on fire.” Robin pushed the call button for the elevator quickly – but the elevator was no longer moving. He guessed that it’s fire detection system picked up the smoke once he had opened the ceiling tile.

“The blue notebook–”

“It’s a red herring, Batgirl.” Robin grabbed her wrist quickly and pulled her toward the stairway at the end of the hall. “Either this is the real test, or someone set Batman up. It happens sometimes.”

“No.” Batgirl raced down the hall away from Robin, heading quickly toward Suite 4520. “I won’t fail.”

“Dammit.” Robin clenched his teeth in frustration and charged after Batgirl, even as the hallway began to slowly fill with silky veins of smoke. He found himself struggling to catch up to her as she easily navigated the hallways – he was faster by far, but she was much more agile, and quick on her feet. She didn’t even have to slow down around corners.

He suddenly stopped as he saw Batgirl standing directly in front of a large set of oak double doors labeled 4520. A brass plate on the wall next to the door read ‘Reuther and Mathers, attorneys at law’. She took a step back and charged at the door, crashing through them feet first. Pieces of the brass and steel lock mechanism bounced off of the thinly carpeted floor as the doors gave way, allowing them entrance into the office.

A distant high-pitched sound filled the office, evidence that they had just triggered an alarm system. Batgirl ignored it – she figured that the authorities would be on their way soon anyhow due to the fire.

“That’s just great”, Robin complained as he looked to the left and right of the reception desk, “There are eight rooms in here. We’ll have to search every one for–”

Robin paused, watching perplexed as Batgirl slowly walked down one hallway, then the other, looking through the small glass window panes next to the oak doors to each office. She paused in front of one, punching her fist through the glass as she motioned for Robin to follow.

She raced into the office and leapt over the desk, landing on both feet on the other side next to the window. She lifted a plastic item, and held it up for Robin to see. It was a blue and white colored notebook computer, not an actual paper notebook.

“Are you sure?” Robin leapt over the desk behind her, reaching across her to try and open the laptop. Batgirl pulled it from his fingers, shaking her head vigorously. “What’s wrong?”

Batgirl shook the computer vertically, very gently, weighing it with her hand. It felt like a small gym weight, and was unbalanced. As she looked at it closely, it also seemed like its plastic parts didn’t fit together well…and it carried a strange scent. “It’s a bomb.”

“Put it down, slowly.” Robin was staring over the desk at something in the office across the hall. Batgirl looked across too, and nearly dropped the laptop when she spotted a woman in work clothing on the floor of the office. She hoped the woman wasn’t dead.

With one smooth motion, Batgirl put the notebook computer on the desk and launched herself over it. She raced across the hall, using her momentum to smash her leather-protected arm through the glass pane next to the door to open it. By this time, Batgirl noticed that the reception area of the office was filling with thick, billowing black smoke. She could hear sirens approaching from the distance.

“She’s too heavy for you in your condition. You’re still healing.” Robin slipped past Batgirl, easily lifting the unconscious woman over his shoulder. He waved for Batgirl to follow as he raced toward the reception area. He suddenly screeched to a halt, turning and nearly crashing into Batgirl. “No use, the smoke’s too thick. We’ll have to go out the window.”

Batgirl quickly motioned for Robin to follow, and charged toward one of the windows inside the office with the blue notebook computer, using the desk as a launching point to send her crashing through the hard safety glass. It was designed to withstand impacts from chairs, maybe even cable launchers – but it buckled easily under her weight as she dove through it rolled into a ball to protect her eyes and face from cuts.

As soon as she felt cool, moist wind through her hair, she quickly spread her cape to slow herself just enough to safely grab the edge of a balcony on the 40th floor, pulling herself up quickly. She looked up to see Robin reeling himself toward the street on a cable launcher with the unconscious woman still over her shoulder. Fire trucks and police cars were just arriving.

She looked down at the Batmobile, squinting to see if anyone was inside. It was empty, meaning that Batman was still inside the building. And that bomb…if the firefighters found it–

Batgirl crouched down as the building suddenly lurched violently beneath her feet. She heard glass shattering above her, and had just enough time to throw her cape over her head before dangerous shards began raining down on her. It was clear to her that the bomb had already gone off – she hoped that no one was around to see it close up.

She rose slowly, noticing that a couple of police officers on the ground were pointing at her. Before they had a chance to even talk to her, she dove through a cracked window adjacent to the balcony, crashing though it easily into a 40th floor office. She raced back to the hallway, feeling the smoke burn her lungs as she raced toward the stairway. Batgirl had to make sure Batman was safe.
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“Robin! Where is she?”

Robin turned abruptly, still carrying the unconscious woman, prepared to run. But he calmed down once he processed the voice – it was Barbara. As he gently placed the woman he carried on the damp ground carefully, two paramedics quickly rushed to her side. “She’s still in the building, trying to rescue–”

He turned pale suddenly when he noticed Bruce Wayne standing in front of him, dressed in a suit and smiling. He looked at the form of the Batmobile hidden in the darkness of the alley. It was still there.

“Evening…Robin, is it? Do you have any leads on who set my building on fire?”

“Your building…?” Robin looked up at the window where he watched Batgirl re-enter the building. Thick smoke was now pouring out of the shattered opening. He began to worry for her, and wonder if she was even still alive. He began fuming silently, feeling anger toward Bruce for allowing her to get herself into so much danger. “Excuse me…uh…Mr. Wayne. I have some work to do.”

Without another word, Robin gave Bruce one more glare as a cable launcher taken from his belt sent him effortlessly toward the 40th floor. He had to make sure Batgirl was safe.
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The smoke was getting thicker now, making it difficult for Batgirl to breathe or see. Unlike Bruce, she didn’t carry a breathing apparatus with her – the equipment was much too heavy for her. But now she longed for one as her lungs and eyes burned, tears involuntarily streaming down her face, and she was moving slower now as her energy waned. She tried to keep low to avoid most of the smoke, but the scent of burning chemicals was so strong, she couldn’t resist it totally.

She froze as she heard footsteps approaching quickly. Whoever was approaching her was not walking. It was a woman…skipping? She backed up against a wall and crouched down, waiting for the sound to get closer, so she could see who it was – a woman in a black leather cat costume, complete with a tail. It was Catwoman – and she wasn’t affected by the smoke because she was wearing a steel oxygen tank on her back.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Catwoman stood over Batgirl, bending down on one knee. It was apparent by then that she wore a plastic breathing mask over her face as well. She smiled at Batgirl, and pulled one of the two thin plastic straw-like oxygen tubes out of her mask. “Want a hit?”

Batgirl looked closely at Catwoman, noticing that she carried a backpack full of various items scavenged from the burning building. She guessed that Catwoman was probably not the fire starter, but was simply taking advantage of it to rob the place blind.

“Come on…I know you’re not like Batty Boy. You’re not too proud to accept help, are you?”

A painful-sounding cough from Batgirl answered the question for her. If she didn’t get some clean air soon, she would probably succumb to smoke inhalation. She took the plastic tube from Catwoman gently, breathing in large gulps of pure oxygen. It made her feel dizzy, but so alive. She felt energized again, like she was ready to take on the world.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?” Catwoman smiled as Batgirl gave her a nod. She turned to walk away, pausing for a second as if to contemplate telling Batgirl something. “I know who you’re looking for. Batty’s gone. He left you here to die.”

Batgirl stood up abruptly, inhaling even more smoke. She gave Catwoman a questioning look.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” With a laugh, Catwoman started skipping away from Batgirl quickly. “That’s what you get for hooking up with a lunatic.”

A door across the hall began creaking, Batgirl could see thicker smoke coming from underneath – it was going to explode, sending a torrent of flames into the hallway. She raced to the elevators a few yards away, and pried one set of doors open, leaping into the dark elevator shaft to grab the greasy cable in the center tightly with her leather-clad hands and legs.

Just as Batman trained her to do so many times, she controlled her descent, sliding down the cable carefully even as fire roared into the elevator shaft above her, sending smoking debris falling on her head.

“Batgirl!”

She froze as she heard someone call out her name. It was Robin! She looked around, but couldn’t see him in the darkness.

“Batgirl! I see you! Slide down, I’ll be right behind you!”

Batgirl gave him a ‘thumbs-up’ sign before finishing her descent quickly, dropping down to the lobby level and prying the doors open quickly.

As soon as her feet touched the marble lobby floor, she found herself having to dive back into the elevator shaft quickly – a man in the lobby was firing a hail of bullets her way from a machine gun he carried. He wasn’t a large man, but he moved quickly, too fast for her to throw a bat-wing in to disarm him. Luckily, his wasteful use of the machine gun caused him to run out of bullets.

She charged across the lobby, intent on knocking him off of his feet before he had a chance to reload. Launching herself into the air just before approaching him, she aimed both of her feet at his stomach – and promptly found herself landing head-first on the hard marble floor behind him, the man holding on to her ankle tightly. He was trained in karate, judo, or some other fighting discipline.

Batgirl began struggling as the man began dragging her across the floor, swinging her around in a smaller and smaller circle until her head lifted off of the ground from the centrifugal force. Then he let go, sending her crashing into a decorative pole, shattering the marble covering over it’s steel core.

She shook off the pain radiating from her neck and back, and the dizziness, as the man headed straight for his gun – but luckily, Robin beat him to it, tossing the gun up to the second floor balcony. He was quickly rewarded by the man attacking him with a series of kicks, the third of which knocked him to the ground. He then drew an 8-inch knife from his belt, raising it above Robin.

Powered by pure anger, Batgirl launched herself at the man again. She wouldn’t allow herself to be thrown away, punched, or beaten this time. She wouldn’t allow him to hurt Robin, or anyone else, anymore. Rather then attack him this time, however, she simply guarded her face with her arms and slammed into him, using her full weight against his. To her surprise, the man fell to the ground, his blade falling with a ‘clang’ and sliding away from him.

She couldn’t remember how many times she punched him…all she knew, all she felt, was the pleasure at watching his jaw and nose shatter, at watching his blood spill all over the marble floor. All she thought about was the humiliation she felt at nearly being beaten by the man, and the heat of anger at watching Robin nearly die at his hand. She ignored the man’s pleas in some foreign language…she kept punching him even as he begged for his life, his feeble attempts to defend himself making her angrier.

And then he fell silent.

She drew back her fist once more, but froze when she realized that he was no longer fighting back. His eyes were fixed straight at her, the picture of mortal fear of a man meeting his death. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.

Batgirl rose to her feet quickly and stumbled until her back met a marble pole. She slid down to the floor slowly, looking at her blood covered leather gloves, and the spots of blood spattered all over her costume. She was covered in it…covered in death.

“Come on, Batgirl. We have to go.”

Even as Robin finally lifted her off of the floor and carried her out the side exit to the car, Batgirl didn’t make a sound. The only motion she made was to remove her mask as he began driving them home quickly. He kept glancing at her – but she didn’t even acknowledge it. She just stared straight ahead.

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Robin was sitting leaned back in a chair in the Bat Cave, still in costume except for his mask, when Bruce walked in smiling. Bruce’s seemingly good mood brought an immediate frown from Tim. “I hope you’re happy.”

Bruce looked quickly around the Bat Cave, noticing that Tim was the only soul present. “Where is she?”

“In the shower.” Tim removed his boots quickly and sat up. He sighed deeply before rising to his feet painfully – he still felt sore from the evening’s activity. “That’s where she’s been since we came back.”

“Hmm.” Bruce walked over to his computer terminal. It sprang to life as he began typing rapidly on the keyboard before even sitting down.

Tim headed toward the door, but paused as he watched Bruce seemingly ignoring him as he typed on the keyboard. “I know what you’re thinking, Bruce. She got too involved, let her emotions control her. But you know what? I’d rather have her watching my back. At least I know she’s loyal to me.”

A creak came from Bruce’s chair as Tim turned and headed toward the house. The typing had stopped. Tim paused, but didn’t turn, as he waited for the inevitable comment from Bruce.

“As opposed to who?”

“You know exactly who.” Tim frowned and continued on his path out of the Bat Cave, leaving Bruce behind to think about his comment. He knew it cut through Bruce, even though he seemed to ignore it, and quietly resume working with his computer.

Tim headed upstairs and straight down a hallway of Wayne Manor, stopping in front of Cassandra’s bedroom door. He knocked silently, before noticing that the door was already open a crack.

“Cassandra?” Tim pushed the door open gently, knocking again as he spotted her sitting curled up on the carpeted floor next to the bathroom, her back against the wall, dressed in her civilian clothing from earlier in the day. Her dark hair was still dripping wet from her extra-long shower, spilling traces of water onto her shirt. Yet she still didn’t seem to feel any better – she was still staring straight ahead into the void.

He walked across the room, sitting down on the floor carefully next to Cassandra. She only briefly acknowledged his presence with her eyes before resuming her blank stare. He nudged her shoulder once gently, giving her a half-hearted smile. “I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Cassandra placed her hands on her knees, and leaned her forehead against them, closing her eyes. Her words were immediately followed by a deep, emotional sigh.

Without another word exchanged, Tim hugged Cassandra tightly…and just as he anticipated, tears began silently streaming from her eyes. She cried for the man who’s frozen eyes still haunted her, his pleading voice still echoing in her ears…she was mourning for her soul.
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“I think it’s working very well.”

“Bruce–” Barbara rolled her wheelchair across Bruce’s living room quickly, stopping only inches in front of him in an attempt to intimidate him a little. “You can’t toy with people like this. I know you wanted Tim and Cassandra to bond, but you don’t have to treat them like garbage to–.”

“It’s a proven method used by the U.S. Marines.” Bruce calmly walked past Barbara and sat down on the couch, placing the steaming cup of tea he held on the table next to him. “They’ll look for strength in each other.”

“But they’ll hate you–”

“Only temporarily. In time, they’ll see that it was necessary.”

Barbara sighed, sliding out of her wheelchair and effortlessly using the strength of her arms to place her on the couch next to Bruce. “For someone who thinks he knows people, Bruce, you couldn’t be farther off. Cassandra may be tough on the outside, but she’s very sensitive…people who are close to her can hurt her easily.”

“She’ll live.”

Just as Bruce attempted to sip his tea, Barbara took it from him gently, placing the cup on the table at the other end of the couch. “I think she knows what you’re up to, Bruce. Your little ruse hasn’t caused her and Tim to bond, it’s just causing her to become upset with you for treating her like a child. I think she was bonding with Tim on her own already.”

“Hmm.” Bruce frowned and reached for his tea cup, only to watch Barbara shove it farther away. He knew that she was trying to force him to give her his full attention. “That’s what you think?”

“You remember where you found her, Bruce? The fire? What happened to her parents?”

Bruce suddenly froze, staring at Barbara. She didn’t continue, but he understood her point – the fire which killed Cassandra’s parents was set by her, after she had been mentally abused for years…until she felt she had no other recourse.

“Barbara–”

She smiled slightly at Bruce, anticipating what he would say. She enjoyed being right, and made sure to let him know it. “She values honesty, Bruce. She wants you to treat her like an adult.”

“You’re right.” Bruce sighed and stood slowly, leaving his tea cup behind. He walked out of the living room, headed toward the main hallway quickly. He was headed toward Cassandra’s room – it was time to be honest with her.
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“Close your eyes. Find a quiet space inside you.” Cassandra sat in the center of her bed, her legs and sock-covered feet crossed beneath her. She was facing Tim, who was doing the same – they appeared almost as mirror images of each other.

She began breathing deeply, slowly, her hands resting on her knees as she let every muscle relax. The sights around her vanished as her eyelids closed, and the sounds around her began to fade out of her perception as her slow breathing took focus in her mind. The only thoughts she kept were ones of quiet, of peace, and happiness.

Cassandra could feel the slightest movement in the surface of the bed’s mattress as either herself or Tim shifted very slightly from their nearly frozen postures, directly across from each other. In her state of a sort of half-consciousness her senses were magnified many times. It was both relaxing and intriguing.

It proved to be a more interesting experience as she heard Bruce’s footsteps enter the room. The bed’s surface shook violently as she remained frozen, and she felt Tim move past her – she knew that Bruce most likely asked him to wait outside for a moment. She opened her eyes slowly when she sensed his shadow looming over her.

“I know. I screwed up.”

“You’re right. But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.” Bruce half-smiled when she said that, as he pulled a nearby chair to the edge of the bed and sat down. “Cassandra…I’ve been underestimating you. I should have been treating you as an equal.”

Cassandra nodded and sat at the edge of the bed, folding her arms as she stared at Bruce, waiting for him to continue. She was eager to hear what he had to say now that her lungs and nose were still lined with black soot from the smoke in that burning building, and the voice of the man she killed in that fight still echoed in her mind.

“It was supposed to be a simple retrieval, Cassandra. The woman you found unconscious tipped me off to an employee named Robert, who was stealing from the company. He kept his personal records in…as she called it…a ‘blue notebook’. Apparently, he found out somehow…the notebook computer was supposed to explode and kill the informant. The fire, along with disconnected sprinklers, were supposed to cover up the evidence. You and Tim saved her life, as well as my building.”

She paused to think for a moment as she took a deep breath, glancing at her hands for a moment before she looked at Bruce. “But I–”

“That man you fought was someone Robert hired”, Bruce interrupted as he leaned closer to Cassandra, “He’s an assassin named Vladimir who recently immigrated from Serbia. He’s ex-military. Specialties of his are explosives, weapons, and combat. He made his money off of killing people. ”

Cassandra shook her head slowly, looking at the floor. Tears were forming in her eyes again, though this time she tried to fight them. “I don’t feel any better.”

“You’ll have to work through that on your own. I just came in here to offer you honesty.”

As Bruce stood up and headed toward the door, Cassandra looked up at him, smiling weakly. “Catwoman was there.”

Bruce turned around quickly, a look of concern on his face. “Oh? Do you think she set the fire?”

“No.” Cassandra shook her head, trying her best not to laugh as she remembered Catwoman skipping happily down the hallway wearing a backpack and an oxygen tank. “She was…stealing stuff.”

A loud, boisterous laugh from Bruce finally prompted Cassandra to cover her mouth, half embarrassed that she had even witnessed such a comical event first-hand. Catwoman, looting an office building during a fire. At the time, she didn’t think much of it, but looking back…it made the whole experience seem surreal, like a dream.

She finally began laughing as she watched Bruce and Tim pass each other in the doorway – Bruce heading out, Tim heading back in. Bruce said something Cassandra couldn’t hear to Tim in the doorway, and Tim laughed a little as well.

Tim pointed a thumb toward the door as soon as Bruce was far enough away not to hear. “Does he think something is going on between us?”

Cassandra wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Yeah…right.”

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#10 – The Sound Of Silence, Part 1

An expensive office, decorated in wood paneling and various glass sculptures, gave away the fact that the psychiatrist who worked there was rather high-priced. He sat in a deep leather chair, as his patient lay down on an even more plush leather couch, staring at the white painted ceiling. As he stared, he didn’t say a word, much to the irritation of Dr. Craig Marcus.

Dr. Marcus sat up straight, writing furiously on his notepad. He gave his patient, known to him only as Robert, no indication of how frustrated he felt. It might delay any possibility of getting him to talk. Unfortunately, anger seeped into his voice every time he spoke.

“Look, Robert…I’m being paid one way or the other. The only way the court will let you discontinue your therapy is if I tell them you’re better.”

Robert didn’t even budge as Dr. Marcus leaned forward to try and gauge even the smallest response from him. It was like this every week – Robert would come in precisely at his eleven a.m. appointment and lie down, saying nothing or even moving until his time was up an hour later.

“All right, Robert, we’ll try something different.” Dr. Marcus tossed his notepad aside and walked to his desk, removing a picture from one of the drawers. He glanced at the young woman in the picture – a brown-eyed brunette – staring at her riveting eyes for a few seconds, wondering why Robert had become so obsessed with her.

He walked over to the couch, and held the photo above Robert so he could see it. “Let’s talk about Amanda, shall we?”

Robert suddenly jumped to his feet, shoving Dr. Marcus out of his way angrily as he let out a primitive growl. As Dr. Marcus slammed into one of the wood paneled walls, Robert lifted a floor lamp, smashing it into his face. Blood began running down Dr. Marcus’ ironed white shirt – his nose was broken.

He didn’t have time to even yell for help before Robert ran from his office – and in a way, he was just grateful that Robert had left rather then staying to possibly hurt him more. As unethical as it sounded, he was glad that Robert left…and Dr. Marcus hoped never to see him again.

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It was the most surreal evening Cassandra had ever been through in her life. People who cared for her trying their best to communicate with her as she moved through a world that was suddenly silent. It was like being trapped in a nightmare.

She did understand the irony of it – she valued quiet so much, and yet expected others to understand her. But she was always more of a listener then a talker – and now that has been taken away from her.

Cassandra felt sleep coming to an end, knowing that it was morning. But she didn’t want to wake up – as long as she remained asleep, she could hear her own thoughts, her own dreams. She knew that once she opened her eyes a silent, frightening world awaited her once again. She wondered if there was going to be an end to it.

A nudge to her shoulder prompted her only to curl up and squeeze her eyes shut even tighter, to close the world out of her mind. But she succeeded only in earning a harder shake from whoever was trying to wake her. There was a faint sound…it was her name. Someone far, far away was calling to her.

She opened her eyes and rolled onto her back. Tim was the one who woke her up. He was mouthing the words, ‘Are you okay?’ She almost nodded in response…but as her eyes turned sad, her head gave him a ‘no’ answer instead.

“I’m so sorry…I should have been there”, the distant voice said. Cassandra began to realize that the voice was Tim’s – but it sounded like it was travelling on the wind across a valley rather then from a few feet in front of her.

Cassandra sat up and hugged Tim tightly, her eyes closing again as he reciprocated. She would never admit it to him…but she wished he would have been there as well.

“Don’t tell Bruce I said this…but you never should have been sent on that mission alone.” Tim let go of Cassandra and sat down on the edge of the bed. “He’s only human, even he makes mistakes. Last night, he just thought it was more important for him to keep an eye on the city. It’s a matter of trust. He trusts you on your own more then he trusts the city to itself.”

She sighed sadly and curled back up in bed, closing her eyes, sealing out the world once more. She didn’t want any part of a world she couldn’t hear, and she would not listen to any explanations of what happened to her. The fact was, it happened. No amount of reasoning could change that.

“Get plenty of rest, Cassandra. Next time out, I’m insisting on going with you.” Tim stood and started heading toward the room’s door quickly.

“I…don’t need a babysitter.” Cassandra sat upright quickly, sending an angry gaze Tim’s direction. She shuddered at the sudden wave of dizziness, and at the distant, foreign sound of her own voice. She sounded like she had some kind of accent that she couldn’t pinpoint.

Tim sighed and walked back to the bed, sitting down while keeping his eyes fixed on hers. “Do you know how I survived out there before I met Bruce? I knew when to run.”

Cassandra’s frown turned to a smile as she imagined Robin, the ‘Boy Wonder’, running from criminals with a look of terror on his face.

“I still do that to this day. It’s how I stay alive on the streets of Gotham. But you’re a fighter, you never run. I admire that aspect of you…but to be honest, it also scares me. I worry that one night, you won’t come back. And you know Bruce, he’d just say ‘those are the risks’ and move on. But me–”

Tim sighed and stood up to head toward the door, intending to leave his last sentence unfinished. But he changed his mind and paused, still facing away from Cassandra. “I’ve never been a quitter, Cassandra. But after what happened to you last night…let’s just say that I’m beginning to question what I do.”

Cassandra watched Tim head toward the door without saying another word, except for a whispered ‘see you later’ uttered as the door clicked shut. She was more then a little surprised that Tim had become so close to her. It was like having a big brother…only she felt she was protecting him sometimes by drawing so much of Bruce’s attention.

She slid out of bed, acutely aware of the distant sounds associated with it, as well as the hollow sounds of her feet hitting the carpeted floor as she walked toward her closet and bathroom. It was going to be a long day.

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“How is she?” Bruce’s voice echoed off of the walls of the Bat Cave…or at least it seemed to when Tim heard it.

“Maybe you should have asked that last night.”

Bruce turned and gave Tim an angry look. Tim glared right back for a moment before turning away, pretending to grab a few items to re-stock his utility belt.

“Is there some kind of a problem, Tim?” Bruce continued staring at Tim with a steely, cold gaze as Tim continued to avoid his glance.

Tim sighed loudly and tossed his utility belt aside. “Why did you send her out there, Bruce?”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you”, Bruce replied in a monotone, without moving a muscle.

“Don’t give me that.” Tim returned Bruce’s cold gaze, as his own anger began to seep into his facial expression. “I’m not some green trainee of yours. I’m experienced.”

“Experienced?” Bruce stood suddenly, grabbing Tim’s arm and pulling him over to the computer console on the opposite wall almost violently. As he tapped a few keys, a newspaper article appeared on the screen – it detailed his parents’ deaths. “Experience this, Tim. I learned everything I did on my own, with no one to look after me…or clean up my disasters–”

“Cassandra isn’t the same as you!” Tim angrily pulled his arm free from Bruce’s grip, taking a few steps back. “She hurts easily…emotionally…only she doesn’t show it. Bruce, her failures count more to her then her successes. Why set her up for failure?”

Bruce leaned against the console, folding his arms as if to signal a deepening stubbornness. “Because she needs to learn.”

“Learn? Is that what you call the fact that she can’t hear a thing? Some kind of warped lesson of yours?”

Words suddenly eluded Bruce as he watched an angry, frustrated Tim kick one of the steel chairs in the Bat Cave, and head back into the house for breakfast. As soon as Tim left, Bruce sighed sadly and turned to look at the security camera monitors above his computer console. Cassandra was heading down one of the hallways, toward the kitchen. And just as she always did when he watched…she turned to glance at the camera for just a moment. She could always tell when she was being watched.

“No…I call that my biggest mistake.”

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“Robert…what did you say your last name was?” The clerk at the counter of a small hotel in Gotham City looked down at his desk, filling out a small paper card for one of the hotel rooms.

“I didn’t.” Robert snatched the room key from the desk next to the clerk and walked away quickly.

“What a moron.” The clerk just shrugged – Robert had already paid in cash for a week in advance anyway. He looked up a few seconds later to see Robert standing over him again. “Can I help you?”

“What did you call me?”

“Uh…nothing.” The clerk stood a few feet back from the desk, looking around nervously as he answered. On a whim, he lifted up his phone’s handset to make a point. “I was…um…talking on the phone.”

“Sure.” Robert took the phone handset from him, and looked at it for a moment. “And I assume you were talking to my mother?”

“Uh…if you say so.”

Robert frowned and gritted his teeth angrily before slamming the phone handset against the side of the clerk’s head. The clerk fell to the ground behind the counter, using his hand to stop the gash on his forehead from bleeding. “My mother’s dead. I killed her.”

“Holy–” The clerk looked down at his hand momentarily to see that he was bleeding severely. He started shivering from the shock. “I’m calling the cops, man! You’re going to jail!”

“Oh, really?”

Robert lifted a stapler from the desk, unfolding it slowly as he walked around to the other side. The next several minutes were sheer hell for the poor clerk as Robert pinned each of his arms against the floor, slamming the stapler against each finger. By the time Robert walked back to the outside of the counter and hurled the stapler at him, the clerk lay sobbing, in a pool of blood.

“Try dialing now…moron.”

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“What kind of a maniac would do this?”

A Gotham City police officer, one of the few working during the police strike, stood over a pool of blood behind the desk of a local hotel, shaking his head. The hotel had been closed to new guests, the lobby cordoned off with crime scene tape, until all evidence could be gathered.

“This is Gotham City. It’s full of maniacs.” A casually dressed red-headed woman with glasses rolled into the lobby in a wheelchair, pushing the crime scene tape over her head.

“Who are you? You can’t come in here!”

“Barbara Gordon, at your service.” Barbara bowed her head and smiled as she rolled over to the officer. Walking behind her was a young woman with dark hair, wearing blue jeans, a leather jacket, a red shirt, and nearly opaque sunglasses. “I can just leave…if you don’t want to ever solve this crime.”

“Officer, can I speak to you for a moment.” Another cop, obviously a sergeant by the stripes on his sleeve, entered the room. He clasped his hands behind his back and whispered to the officer as he kept his eyes on Barbara.

“That’s his daughter?” The officer looked at Barbara for a moment, who smiled again and nodded slowly. He then pointed at the woman with dark hair. “Who’s that?”

“She’s none of your business”, Barbara interrupted. She opened a large bag hanging from one side of the wheelchair, removing a metallic aerosol can, a digital camera, and a small glass capsule.

“Cassandra, spray this on the counter and take a few pictures.” She handed the camera and spray can to the woman behind her. Barbara then tossed the glass capsule to the police officer. “Do something useful…get me a sample of that blood. I don’t think it’s all the victim’s.”

Cassandra headed toward the counter, shaking the can vigorously. She only faintly heard what Barbara said, as her hearing had not fully recovered yet – but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was supposed to do. The can was filled with an acetone-based spray. It would evaporate on most surfaces, but would stick to fingerprints, causing them to stand out for a short while, until the oil that fingers left behind would evaporate. The digital camera would capture the prints before they dissolved.

A liberal spraying revealed no prints on the desk itself – but the telephone handset and stapler were covered with deeply set prints. That meant someone was using both to apply large amounts of force. Cassandra took four pictures of each, and then signaled Barbara.

“The stapler”, Cassandra whispered as Barbara rolled up next to her, “He was beaten with the stapler.”

“Yeah, the cops know that. The perp stapled the man’s fingers–”

“No.” Cassandra shook her head. “The staples came out when–”

“When he broke the clerk’s fingers with it!” Barbara tugged on Cassandra’s arm quickly. “Take a couple of close-up pics of that stapler. It’s bound to be dented.”

Cassandra nodded and snapped a few more pictures. It was difficult, having to concentrate to hear Barbara’s voice – but it was definitely worthwhile. She was experiencing a world previously unavailable to her. While it wasn’t an adrenaline-filled altercation on the street, it was exciting in it’s own right. For the first time she felt like a true detective, using her mind to help solve a crime, exploring avenues no one thought to explore.

“You’re a natural, Cassandra.”

She smiled at Barbara’s words as she continued taking photographs. She always wanted to be more then just an average street fighter, or costumed hero. Cassandra wanted to be something different…something extraordinary.

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“So it’s back to work, huh?” Renee Montoya turned around for a moment as Commissioner James Gordon followed her into the nearly empty police station – the few officers which were working that day were all out on calls.

Gordon nodded. “The union’s demands have been met…so it’s back to work. The curfew’s been lifted, and the mask law is under review.”

“Review.” Renee snickered. “That’s a laugh. I have a feeling that law’s going to be around for a while. One of those antiquated ordinances that comes back to haunt us years later.”

“You’re probably right.” Gordon sighed as he walked into his darkened office and flipped on the light. “But we have to pick our battles. This city will fall apart without us, Renee. It can only take so much.”

“Oh, great.” Renee removed the glass pitcher from the coffee maker, holding it up to the light to see the dark film inside it more clearly. “Looks like no one bothered to clean this out before the strike. So when do the other officers get here?”

Commissioner Gordon walked to the desk just outside his office, glancing at Renee and the coffee pitcher before lifting up a telephone nearby. “As soon as we call them. And the faster we start–”

“Yeah, I know.” Renee sighed. “I should have guessed something like this would happen. So what made the city finally give in?”

“Quite frankly–” Gordon headed back into his office, picking up his phone while keeping his eyes fixed on Renee through the open door. “–There have been more violent incidents in Gotham City since the strike then over the rest of the entire year. The Mayor thinks it’s because every nut in Gotham knows about the strike.”

“But they were only committed by two people.”

“I know.” Gordon sighed loudly as he began dialing. “And when you know who they are, it’s much more dangerous…because they know almost as much about you.”

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“…what we do now is take the photos back to my place to analyze them with my computer.” Barbara leaned back against the passenger seat of Bruce Wayne’s Jaguar, glancing at Cassandra as she drove the car way too fast through downtown Gotham City traffic. “How did you get Bruce to let you borrow the car?”

Cassandra looked at Barbara for a moment, giving her a mischievous smile before turning her attention back to the road.

“Oh, I see. You didn’t.” Barbara laughed. “I changed my mind. Let’s drop in on Bruce, and use his computer.”

A nod from Cassandra quickly preceded a sudden turn onto another street. As they approached the edge of downtown Gotham, the Jaguar began to pick up speed. They would be at Bruce’s home in no time…or so she thought.

“Cop, Cassandra. Cop!” Barbara frantically pointed at a State Police car parked on the side of the road. A police officer stood outside, aiming a radar gun at the Jaguar. “Slow down, or we’ll–”

It was too late. By the time Cassandra’s foot reached for the brake pedal, she could see the officer quickly climbing back into his car. She slammed the accelerator to the floor, throwing Barbara against the back of the seat.

“Cassandra, this isn’t the Batmobile!” Barbara leaned her face against her hand, and shook her head as she watched the police car pull off of the side of the road far behind them, lights and sirens blazing. “Oh, God…we’re going to be arrested.”

Cassandra shook her head no as she continued driving along the road at high speed. She knew she was only minutes from Wayne Manor. When she arrived, it would be much easier to explain why she was driving a car owned by Bruce Wayne – but before then, explaining would be an impossible task.

She glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the police car slowly gaining, then at Barbara to see her sinking slowly in the car seat. She gave Barbara a reassuring smile, but it didn’t seem to calm her – reassurance only works if you believe it yourself. Cassandra didn’t – she wasn’t sure she would make it, but she had to try.

Luckily, the gamble paid off. She drove up to the front of Wayne Manor quickly, slamming on the brakes at the last second. Though not being used to the car, it actually came to a stop only a few feet from the front steps.

She jumped out of the driver’s side and ran around to the passenger side, eyeing the police car approaching the entrance to the driveway. As she opened the passenger door, Barbara grabbed her arm tightly. “Cassandra, wait. Never run when you can talk. That’s how accidents happen…how an innocent person can be killed by a nervous cop.”

Cassandra took a deep breath and nodded. Now that she had relaxed herself a little more she took Barbara’s suggestion to heart, removing her folded wheelchair from the back seat gently.

“Thanks.” Barbara slid into the wheelchair just as the police officer drove up the driveway and stopped a couple of feet from the Jaguar. “Don’t drop Bruce’s name. Just let him assume we’re friends of his, since we’re here. Just act like any other citizen.”

A nod from Cassandra as she watched the officer approach slowly, his gun drawn.

“Good evening, officer.” Barbara rolled toward the officer in her wheelchair with a smile on her face and her hand outstretched to shake his. “I’m Barbara Gordon.”

The officer paused for a moment, his expression giving away that he was searching his mind – her name was familiar to him. When he finally shook her hand, a big smile formed on his face. “Are you related to–”

Barbara nodded as she looked at Cassandra for a moment. Cassandra’s shoulders seemed to relax – she was relieved that Barbara was right. “Yes, he’s my dad.”

“I’m pleased to meet you. Your dad is a great guy.” The officer looked at Cassandra for a moment too, nodding as if to acknowledge her presence. “Can you tell me why your friend here was driving so fast?”

The slight, innocent laugh from Barbara was carefully designed by her to make the officer seem more relaxed, to make her story more believable. “This is Cassandra’s first time driving a Jaguar. I guess she let the power go to her head.”

As the officer reached out his hand to shake Cassandra’s, his smile vanished for a second when his eyes met hers. A hint of recognition crossed his eyes, as if he had seen them somewhere before. But any sense he had of who she was vanished as Cassandra smiled and shook his hand quickly.

“You two ladies be careful.” The officer tipped the edge of his round hat to the two of them before heading back to his car.

Barbara smiled at Cassandra, nudging her gently with her elbow as the police car started to back out of the driveway. “See? What did I tell you?”

Cassandra laughed. As she watched the police car drive away, she felt the nervousness just drain away. She followed Barbara into Bruce’s home, content to know that she was learning from the best.

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“How’s your hearing, Cassandra?”

Tim’s sudden interest in her seemed to entertain Cassandra. Ever since she lost part of her hearing, temporarily according to Bruce’s tests, Tim seemed to want to talk to her at every opportunity. He was eager to share, to listen to her feelings. It made her feel a little sad to see him discouraged when he felt that she wasn’t cooperating.

Cassandra tossed her leather jacket and sunglasses on her bed, fully aware of the fact that Tim followed her into the room. He was being persistent, since she didn’t answer his question.

“Cassandra?” Tim leaned against the table next to the bed and folded his arms. He lowered his voice to a near whisper to test her. “Did you really not hear me, or are you being difficult?”

Without a single word, Cassandra walked over to Tim slowly, kneeling down in front of him. Before he had a chance to ask her what she was doing, or even react, she reached around his legs, lifting him over her shoulders quickly. It was painful for her to do so – her muscles and healing bones cried out to her as she raced to the doorway to drop Tim on the carpeted hallway floor.

“Learn to knock.” Cassandra smiled at Tim and slammed her door – but as Tim noted, she didn’t lock it. She didn’t mean to throw him out, but only to appeal to his manners.

Tim sighed as he rose to his feet slowly and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately. “I guess your hearing’s fine now, huh?”

“Almost.” Cassandra smiled at Tim, waving her finger to encourage Tim to step into the room. She sat down at the small table next to the door, pointing at an opposite chair.

“Tell, me, Cassandra.” Tim sat down in the opposite chair and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Why don’t you talk? I see so much intelligence in your eyes…but you say nothing.”

Cassandra stood and walked around the table to look down at the seated Tim – she felt sorry for him. He was always on a quest for knowledge, to understand people. Completely unlike Bruce, who always believed he knew everyone. Cassandra had to smile at the irony of it – that by at least trying, Tim probably knew more about her then Bruce ever would.

She knelt down next to Tim, a serious look in her eyes as she stared up at him. “Bruce thinks he knows me.”

Tim laughed. “Yeah, I know the feeling. It’s creepy sometimes, he always knows where I am–”

“No.” Cassandra shook her head, as she searched for a better way to phrase what she meant. She took a deep breath and spoke in a soft voice. “He knows you…from your words. Your actions. I give him no clues.”

Sensing that Cassandra’s words were an incomplete thought, Tim nodded but didn’t say a word. He had finally encouraged her to talk to him – he didn’t want to ruin that. But after several seconds of awkward silence, he knew he had to say something. “Why would you do that? Don’t you want him to understand you?”

Cassandra closed her eyes for several seconds, breathing slowly in the silent room as she felt Tim’s eyes on her, waiting for an answer. But the only answer she had was one which hurt her – after being badly injured twice, and constantly driven harder by Bruce, she honestly believed that he treated her more as an acquaintance or an employee then family.

It hurt…she lived in his home, ate his food, made friends with his caretaker. Yet he seemed happier if she feared him, if she didn’t get too close. Even as Bruce Wayne, she could see the Batman within him – a cold man, who sees every friend as a threat. A man who’s eyes echoed the betrayal he felt at every one of his associates’ failures. He took each one personally, as it it were his own. Barbara’s partial paralysis, Dick’s abrupt departure as Robin, even the death of his parents, to him, amounted to personal failures.

Yet he still refused to understand that not everyone can be like him, that some don’t want to. Every time Batgirl became emotionally involved in a mission, or deviated from his ‘plan’…he took it personally. But Bruce’s tendency to separate himself from his associated had one good side effect – he drove them to find the heroes within themselves. Cassandra had to be Batgirl for herself, not for him. It worked…but it left her feeling empty.

“I want him to care about me. I want someone to.” Cassandra’s eyes were tear-filled by the time she reopened them. As she watched Tim’s face begin to show signs of sadness as well, she felt a little shame for letting her guard down. “I’m alone, Tim.”

She looked away from him quickly to wipe the tears from her eyes, only to feel his hand lifting up her chin to face her again. His eyes were still sad, but he was smiling self-confidently, trying his best to encourage her.

“Look, Cassandra…I’ve been doing this longer then you have. I know exactly what you need.” Tim stood and walked over to the bed quickly, snatching Cassandra’s jacket and sunglasses. “You need some time away from here. A couple of hours to…you know…just to be yourself.”

Cassandra rose slowly to her feet, wrinkling her nose at Tim. “A…date?”

He laughed. “No, we’ll just hang out. Get some ice cream, talk about Bruce. Or maybe about you?”

Cassandra blinked a couple of times to clear her eyes, and took a deep breath before taking the jacket and dark sunglasses from Tim, putting both on quickly. She motioned toward the door with her head, and headed into the hallway.

Tim followed her quickly as they headed toward the front door. “I like those sunglasses. Mind if I borrow them?”

“No.”

“Is that no, you don’t mind, or no, I can’t borrow them?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Tim suddenly snatched the car keys from Cassandra. “But I’m driving.”

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“…He said, ‘girls don’t watch football, it’s a guy thing’. So Cass…not you, the other one…decked Kon right out of that chair. He was covered in popcorn and soda!”

Tim glanced over at Cassandra as they cruised down a busy street in Gotham city in yet another one of Bruce’s car’s – a Miata convertible. The top was down, the wind blowing through her dark hair as she covered her mouth to laugh discreetly at the scene he had just described. “Wow, you’re laughing. I thought I’d never see that.”

“You’re funny.” Cassandra leaned her arm against the door, looking at Tim across the car. “Never though I’d see that.”

“You know, Kon says the same thing about me.” He laughed, looking at Cassandra for a moment again. He’d never seen her genuinely happy before, with a real smile on her face. Yet there she was…actually enjoying herself. As Tim looked at her, he noticed something he hadn’t seen before – she had some kind of silver pendant in a strange shape dangling from a necklace she wore. He assumed that it was because she had always hidden it.

“Interesting pendant. What is it?”

Cassandra shrugged as she lifted the pendant off of her shirt to look at it closely. “I’ve always had it.”

“Maybe we should check it out one day. Find out what it is.”

“No.” Cassandra shook her head and dropped the pendant back inside her shirt. “It’s better as a mystery.”

“Suit yourself.” Tim looked at Cassandra for a few seconds to see if she kept her smile. He didn’t want to be the one to break her good mood.

By the time he turned to face the road again, a man was standing directly in front of the car. He swerved hard, vaguely hearing Cassandra gasp as he mashed the brake pedal to the floor. The wheels locked, causing the car to continue skidding toward parked cars on the side of the road in spite of Tim’s best efforts to turn the wheel to straighten it. A split second later, the sound of tearing steel and breaking glass filled the street, and a loud ‘pop’ as the driver and passenger airbags deployed in less time then it took to blink.

The street seemed eerily silent as Tim untangled himself from the airbag. He immediately turned his attention to his passenger. “Cassandra? Are you–”

He was surprised to see that Cassandra had leapt out of the car before him – she was standing in the middle of the street, leaning her chin against her palm, taking in the damage. Tim climbed out of the car and walked toward her. “Are you okay?”

Cassandra nodded. She nudged Tim with her free hand, pointing halfway down the block where the man who caused the accident was being arrested by four Gotham police officers. Behind her were two police cars – meaning they had chased the man to where he was being arrested. That easily explained what caused the accident.

She watched the officers’ lips carefully – one of them said something about ‘murder’. Tim discovered the same thing. He turned to face her just when she did the same.

“Um…Cassandra?” Tim pointed down an alley which was not easily visible from the street, and until now went unnoticed by both of them. In the alley was a woman’s body, lying in a deep pool of blood. All of the color was washed out of her skin – she was clearly dead.

Tim stopped one of the officers as he passed by. “What happened?”

She could only see the officer’s lips moving as he answered, the sounds generating his voice seemingly coming from all around her – ‘he raped her’, the officer said.

Cassandra could feel an anger building within her as the suspect was escorted closer. A man who felt he had to hurt those who were weaker simply because he could – a coward. The man turned to look at Cassandra, giving her a menacing smile. She could imagine the terror those eyes, and that smile, caused the poor woman as he first stole her dignity, then her life. A feeling of hopelessness, like the world had abandoned her to die in a cold alley, alone, as a stranger took pleasure from her pain. It had to end.

The man fell to the ground, as Cassandra felt a satisfying throb of pain from her hand and wrist. She had hit him, hard…and now she was watching him bleed in the gutter. Just as he did to her. She wanted to do more to him, leave him a lasting reminder of just what the ‘weak’ he so enjoyed preying upon could do. But as she looked at Tim, she relented – he looked genuinely hurt by the news, as if that anonymous woman lying in the alley were his own family. It would do no good to create more pain. It was time to heal.

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City On The Edge

“I hate working in cities, man.” A man dressed in military battle fatigues leaned his rifle against a brick wall and sat down, leaning his back against the wall. “Especially Metropolis. It just creeps me out.”

Another similarly dressed man stood above him, laughing and shaking his head slowly. “Hey, don’t fall asleep Hicks, or the Raptors will get you.”

“Shut up, Hudson.”

Hudson paced around a bit more as Hicks began opening their rations for their ‘dinner on the run’. They had both been working without food or sleep for almost a full day now, as they kept moving to avoid what Hicks referred to as the ‘Raptors’. Small, carnivorous dinosaur-like creatures, who hunted in the shadows, preying on those who were not quick enough to get away.

A loud beep interrupted Hicks, causing him to drop the rations and nervously juggle his radio before dropping it as well. “Hicks here.”

“Geez, you’re as nervous as a cat on a dog’s back.”

“Funny, Hudson.” Hicks held the radio closer to his ear, covering his other ear to keep out any extra background noise. The message over the radio was fuzzy, and he was trying his best to listen in.

Hudson’s smile began changing to a frown as he watched Hicks turn pale suddenly. Something in Hicks’ eyes prompted him to go ‘on alert’, as he gripped his assault rifle tightly in his hands. “What is it Hicks? What’s up?”

Hicks leapt to his feet, his weapon now firmly in his hands. “Raptors are coming toward us. They just wiped out the fourth group.”

“Damn.” Hudson looked down at the ground, to the wrappers from the rations that Hicks hurriedly crammed back into his backpack before he stood up. “It’s the food, Hicks. They can smell the damned food!”

“Oh, hell.” Hicks tore the backpack from his shoulders quickly, tossing it into a nearby alley. As soon as the backpack hit the ground, something – some creature, as tall as a human being – snatched the pack in it’s jaws and vanished. “What the hell was that, Hudson?”

“Oh, man.” Hudson began backing away from the scene slowly. “We never signed up for this, Hicks. This is–”

Hicks didn’t even bother waiting for Hudson to finish. He snatched Hudson’s shoulder quickly and shoved him, hard. “Shut up and run!”

Sharon Holmes hated having to return to that bunker in Europe again after nearly being caught in its explosion and collapse. But she was on a search for evidence. Something deep down told her that the Ancient Book of Rai wasn’t the only thing Lex Luthor was looking for – when she confronted him, he behaved almost as if he had found the book by accident. No, he was definitely there for something else.

She quickly pulled a small shovel out of her backpack, tossed the pack aside, and started using the shovel to move debris from the explosion. She was working without a permit again, so she occasionally checked around to make sure no one was watching. Technically anything used by the Third Reich would be property of the German government – but Sharon knew that anything found in that bunker would be too dangerous in their hands.

Almost as soon as she began digging, Sharon found a small container, a small box which resembled a music box. It was made of pure gold. She thought it was odd that Luthor would steal a book and discard the box – unless the box contained something much more valuable. She opened the box slowly – and inside, noticed a symbol of some sort carved into the bottom half of the box. It seemed like it used to hold something…but what?

“It’s a soul catcher.”

Sharon dropped the box and turned abruptly, with both pistols drawn, but began to relax as she saw a young woman about her height in a black and white costume smiling at her. Sharon shook her head. “Can’t walk ten feet these days without running into one of you super-types. Which one are you? Mystic Girl?”

The woman laughed. “No, I’m just Lara Night. I made up a few nicknames, but no one wants to use them anyway. So I’m just Lara.”

“Lara?” Sharon smiled and folded her arms. “For some reason, that name is very familiar to me.”

“Probably because you heard Kara or Linda talking about me.”

Sharon nodded. “Yes, that must be it. What did you mean by ‘soul catcher’?”

“It works with the Ancient Book of Rai.” Lara reached down to pick up the golden box. “You wear it around your neck, it prevents your soul from being taken when you use the spells in the book.”

“How do you know all of this?” Sharon folded her arms and gave Lara a disbelieving look.

“I’m from another Earth. Much like this one, but with no known living super-heroes.” Lara handed Sharon the golden box and smiled. “All of these items are part of legend on my Earth.”

Sharon shrugged. “Can’t be any worse then the alternate Earth I’ve been to. You’ve been there too, haven’t you?”

“Very perceptive.” Lara nodded. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?”

“To be honest, if you’re not here to help I don’t really care.” Sharon smiled a little, to take the edge off of her brutally honest answer. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me.”

“As a matter of fact, I am here to help.” Lara folded her arms and began walking a circle around Sharon, slowly. “I need to know if Lex Luthor made any copies of the Ancient Book of Rai.”

“Copies?” Sharon laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I forgot to check for a copy machine while running for my life.”

“This isn’t funny, Sharon. I feel that he has at least one copy.”

“You…feel that he does?” Sharon laughed again. “What are you, some kind of telepath?”

Lara smiled and nodded. “Something like that.”

“We’ll just have to fetch it then, won’t we?” Sharon shrugged and picked up her backpack, cramming the small shovel into it quickly. “Can you get us there?”

Lara smiled. “In a flash.”

“Great.” Sharon rolled her eyes and stood next to Lara. “One more thing. As long as we’re working together, you follow me. Understand? I won’t be killed over super-heroics. So get rid of the costume.”

“No problem.” Lara nodded, and in a flash of light, she and Sharon were gone – on their way to Otherverse.

“…a bright flash of light from the next block, Colonel. It has to be Meta activity. Over.” A long pause of silence from his radio made Hicks a little more nervous then he already was. It meant that his supervisor had no idea what to do, and had to ask someone above him.

“Find a haven and seal yourselves off, Hicks. Reinforcements from group four are en route. Over.”

“Group four?” Hicks let go of the talk button and sighed loudly. “Group four’s gone, sir. The Raptors got to them during dinner. Over.”

“Affirmative. Group six is being dispatched. E.T.A. one hour. Over.”

“An hour?” Hicks groaned. “Affirmative, Colonel. Over and out.”

“We’re dead, aren’t we?”

Hicks nodded slowly and turned to face Hudson. “Maybe. But I’m not goin’ down easy. I’ll give the damned Raptors heartburn, if I have to.”

Hudson nudged Hicks. “Get some sleep, Hicks. I’ll take first watch.”

“Affirmative, boss.” Hicks slumped down against a wall, tilting his helmet forward to cover his eyes.

Down the street, two figures watched. Two women, one with two pistols drawn, another walking behind her slowly, heading toward the two soldiers. Having little exposure to any kind of military operations on Otherverse Earth, they didn’t know whether to identify the soldiers as friend or foe. All they knew was that they saw a lot of dead bodies as they walked along the streets. They had to assume that the soldiers were hostile for now.

“I can knock them out cold from here.”

“Absolutely not!” Sharon spoke to Lara just above a whisper. “If you zap anything here, you’ll be identified as a Meta. They’ll all be looking for you.”

“How would they know?”

Sharon silently pointed to a camera sitting atop a nearby building. She did enough research to know that Lex Luthor had the whole city under surveillance. Though why he did nothing about the troops destroying the city was a mystery.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t you ever have to use your mind, Lara?” Sharon turned around to face Lara for a moment as she spoke. “To plan, rather then just zap your way through everything?”

Lara shrugged. “I could, I guess. I just haven’t had the opportunity.”

“There’s no time like the present.”

“What do you make of it, Commander Gorman?”

An older man in a high-ranked military uniform, sitting in a darkened cafe, leaned forward toward a small monitor on a wooden table in front of him at the request of his female assistant. After the invasion of Metropolis, the cafe had been taken over and converted to a headquarters of sorts. Electronics filled the place, wires running everywhere. It had been chosen because it was easy to protect and it was one of the few remaining places with electrical power after city had been secured.

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin for a few seconds as he stared at the screen. The assistant was playing a tape for him, one of two young women slinking through the dark streets of Metropolis. One of the women was fairly typical for the city’s current condition – she carried two pistols and a knife. But the other…she was completely unarmed. “Survey information, Lisa?”

His assistant punched up a small laptop computer next to the screen. Lex Luthor’s old cameras were also equipped with sensors – and every digital video broadcast they intercepted was laced with extra digital information. Biological sensors, heat sensors, and the like. She shook her head as she read the information. “According to the sensors, they’re both just human. Neither are Metas.”

“But those eyes–” Gorman tapped the screen, moving the zoom control with his other hand to get a closer look. He leaned forward to look at one woman’s eyes – her irises seemed glass-like, almost transparent. “–They seem so…alien. There has to be something more to her. Something…special.”

Lisa stood up. “Should I have someone pick her up?”

Gorman picked up a book of printed sheets from the table, leafing through it quickly. He then tossed aside the sheets angrily. “Oh, hell. Hicks and Hudson are closest.”

“So?”

“So–” He stood up and sighed. “Those two are a little green for a job like this. I don’t know if they can handle bringing the strange woman in, especially since the one with the guns seems to be with her.”

“If they’re in Metropolis…in the middle of a war zone…there’s a reason.” Gorman paced around in a circle, rubbing his chin, and then leaned over the screen again. “They’re either very smart, or very dumb. Only time will tell which.”

“Should I dispatch a team?”

He nodded. “But tell them to hold back. Keep the two under surveillance, and wait for further orders. If both of those women behave themselves, they won’t be a threat.”

“Yes, sir.” Lisa paused as she snatched the radio’s microphone. “What if the one with the strange eyes…is a Meta?”

“I don’t think she is.” He shook his head slowly as he spoke. “I think she’s something much more dangerous. I think as long as we leave her alone, she won’t be destructive.”

“More dangerous? What makes you say that?”

“The most deadly of enemies are those who are most silent…until you give them reason to strike.” Gorman took a few steps toward the door to the back room, intent on getting a few hours rest for the first time in over twenty hours. Before he left, he turned to face his assistant again. “Then they leave you no question of their power.”

“Time to wake up.”

Hudson instinctively reached for his rifle before even opening his eyes, as he heard a soft female voice with a British accent – only to find his rifle missing. He looked up at the source of the voice to see a woman with brown hair standing over him, holding one pistol to his head.

“The name’s Sharon. Wake up your friend, too. This is important.” The woman removed another pistol from her belt and pointed it toward Hicks with her other hand.

“Hicks! Hicks, we have a little…problem.” Hudson gently nudged Hicks with one hand. Hicks opened his eyes slowly, reaching quickly for his rifle just as Hudson did. But his was missing as well – and so was his radio.

“What do you want from us, lady?” Hudson stared steadily at her in spite of the pistol trained on his temple. “And I hope you know that I can disarm you in an instant.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Sharon smiled and put both pistols back on her belt as she read the name tags on the two soldiers’ uniforms. “You two are severely undertrained.”

“And you’re treading on thin ice, lady.” Hudson stood up slowly, directly in front of Sharon. She folded her arms in response, but didn’t budge. “You’re lucky we don’t chain you up and drag you to HQ. You can join the rest of the POW’s.”

“Feel free to try.” Sharon tapped one of her pistols with a single finger. “You’ll likely end up dead. I’d much rather you cooperated – all I want is information.”

“What kind of information?” Hicks shrugged – Hudson stared at him as if he’s spoken out of turn.

“I need to find Lex Luthor’s office. He has something I need to recover.”

“Yeah, well good luck.” Hicks laughed. “LexCorp is nothing but a ghost town now. I was there myself. Whole place is cleaned out…except for the troops.”

“To a moron, perhaps, it would seem that way.” Sharon looked directly at Hudson as she spoke. “I’d like to check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Who’re you calling a…?”

Hicks watched as Sharon quickly removed one pistol from her belt, hitting Hudson on the side of the head. Hudson was out cold. She turned to Hicks, and smiled. “Would you like to be more cooperative?”

Hicks nodded slowly. “Uh…Two streets down to the left. It’s the tallest building in town, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” Sharon began walking away slowly. As she did, Hicks rose to his feet quickly.

“Wait!” Hicks ran after Sharon, noticing that she placed her hand on her pistol again just as he approached. “Where is my rifle? My radio–”

Hicks froze as he watched a blonde woman a little taller then Sharon step out of a nearby dark alley, wearing both Hicks’ and Hudson’s rifles, and holding the radio. She handed all three of them to Hicks, as he stared at her strangely.

“What’s with your eyes?” He turned to Sharon as he kept pointing at the other woman. “Is she blind or something?”

“No.” The blonde woman smiled as she spoke. Her voice was calm and patient. “I’m not deaf, either.”

Sharon laughed as she walked away with the blonde woman following her. They disappeared down the dark streets, as Hicks stared. He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or frightened by the experience. Either way, he had a story to tell.

“Mom, can we talk for a moment?”

Kara turned quickly to see her daughter Karen standing alone in the doorway of the master bedroom as Kara was hanging up some of her clothing. Karen and Carrie lived in the Fortress now, as suggested by both Professor Xavier and Reed Richards, to help improve their level of maturity as well as their social skills. She just hoped that it wouldn’t do more harm then good, given that her home was on an Earth which closely resembled hell.

“Sure, Karen.” Kara sat down on one of the lounge chairs in the room, while Karen sat on the arm of the chair directly across from her. Kara thought it was a little strange that Karen approached her alone, without Carrie. Most of the time the twins were together.

“I didn’t want to involve Carrie in this. I’m a little afraid you might feel insulted–”

Kara smiled softly. “Nothing you say can change my opinion of either of you. You can tell me anything, Karen. Anything at all.”

Karen closed her eyes and sighed, trying to gather her courage before she spoke. “You don’t…like Lara much, do you?”

“Like her?” Kara laughed. “She hasn’t shown me anything to like, Karen.”

“I was just a little worried that you might be jealous of her.” Karen took another deep breath as she watched Kara’s smile disappear. “I just want you to know…Carrie and I don’t like her better then you. She’s just cool to hang around with. She’s like…a friend, you know? But you’re our mom. There’s no replacement for you.”

“Oh, Karen.” Kara laughed a little. “I didn’t think any such thing. I just worry about what kind of influence she has on you two. She keeps too many secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets, mom. Why should she be any different?”

“Because I fear that–” Kara sighed and looked at the opposite wall for a second, purposely avoiding Karen’s gaze. “She seems to know things, Karen. I worry that she keeps silent because she knows things…about us. Things she’s afraid to tell us.”

“How about asking her, mom?” Karen smiled as she spoke, taking the edge off of her slight rude question. “Maybe she’s just shy. I’ll bet she’s more nervous about talking to you then you are about her.”

“Nervous? What reason would she have to be nervous?”

“Oh, I dunno.” Karen laughed. “Maybe it’s because you’re like…a popular super-hero, and she’s really insecure.”

Kara blinked hard as memories began rushing back to her of Kal-El. All of the times she fought to try and live up to his reputation, to be more like him. And yet, she never seemed to feel like she was even close. Her sharp memory rushed back to the last time she saw Lara – how Lara avoided her gaze, spoke unsteadily to her, and most of the time obeyed her without question. Lara had even killed to protect Kara’s children, just because she feared disappointing her. She remembered hitting Lara once to calm her down…and how Lara, rather then fight back, simply collapsed to the floor and sobbed, as if her whole world had been shattered.

Karen stared at Kara as their eyes met again, noticing the sorrow in Kara’s eyes. It was a look of realization, as if Kara began to feel regret now that she had assembled the pieces of a puzzle who’s solution was right in front of her all along. “Mom?”

“Oh, Rao…I’ve been so unfair to her.” Kara looked away from Karen’s gaze all of a sudden. “You’re right, Karen. I didn’t give her a chance. I was trying to protect you and Carrie from her…and I hurt someone who didn’t deserve–”

“Mom, stop!” Karen stood up and walked over to Kara, hugging her from one side quickly. “You were just behaving like our mom, that’s all – protecting us from a stranger. You did nothing wrong. You just need to give her another chance.”

“I’ll do that, for you and Carrie.” Kara nodded slowly. “If you can trust her, I guess I can too. But she has to promise not to keep so many secrets.”

Karen laughed a little as she stood up to leave the room. “If it means so much to you, mom, I’ll talk to her.”

Kara couldn’t help but smile as she watched Karen leave the room. Her daughter, the peacemaker.

“LaForge to base.”

“Go ahead, LaForge.”

Sharon and Lara were completely oblivious to a radio conversation going on inside LexCorp tower as the walked through the front doors quietly. Lara glanced around the room, feeling a little nervous. She knew they were being watched.

“The two suspects are entering LexCorp now. Please Advise. Over.”

As Lara began to turn toward the stairs, Sharon heard a faint sound emanating through the stairway’s steel door. Unlike Lara, she had been trained to react to any sound, no matter how benign, by taking an alternate route. Sharon turned to Lara and waved her toward the elevators.

“Standby, LaForge. Keep the stairs locked down. Close in when they use the elevators. Over.”

“Affirmative. Over and out. Group six, be alert.”

Sharon placed her left hand on her pistol as the doors to the elevator slid closed almost silently. Lara punched the button which would send them directly to the top floor of the building, to the deserted office of Lex Luthor. Sharon began tapping her pistol nervously as the elevator began to approach it’s stop. Instinct told her that something was wrong. Very wrong.

She nudged Lara lightly, with one hand as she used her other hand to grab the small camera in the elevator, tearing it out of the ceiling quickly. She knew it wouldn’t disable the camera or it’s audio capabilities – but tearing it off of the ceiling would at least make it less useful. Sharon then pointed at the ceiling, indicating to Lara that she meant for them to climb on the roof of the elevator car.

“Surveillance has been taken out, group six.”

Lara climbed through the ceiling grating first, and then helped pull Sharon up quickly. Sharon closed the grating behind her to make sure no one knew they had climbed out, and then began climbing up a ladder at the rear of the elevator shaft quickly. Lara followed as Sharon continued climbing until the elevator car finally stopped.

As soon as the elevator car’s doors opened, they could hear a radio, and heavy boots walking through the elevator car. They could hear the distinctive clicking of powerful rifles tapping against the walls as the soldiers inside the elevator walked around, followed by a distinctive plastic creaking noise which meant the elevator car’s ceiling grating was being removed.

Lara quickly followed as Sharon slid several feet down the ladder suddenly, to remain out of visual range as one of the soldiers popped his head up to the roof of the elevator car. Sharon smiled as she watched the man in the reflection of a knife blade she held up carefully with one hand. He saw nothing in the near pitch-dark elevator shaft.

As soon as the sound of heavy boots moved back out of the elevator, Sharon headed back to the elevator car slowly, noiselessly. Lara followed silently as Sharon approached the car and used her knife again to check the inside. Just as she guessed, the soldiers had propped open the doors of the elevator, and one of them was inside…waiting.

Sharon silently mouthed ‘wait here’ to Lara, and dropped down into the elevator car quickly. All Lara heard was a soft grunt from the man, and then the sound of his body collapsing to to the floor. She then dropped down into the elevator car directly behind Sharon.

They both raced across the hall quickly, just barely above the perceptions of a few soldiers in the hallway, who dismissed their sudden appearance and disappearance as a hallucination. Sharon rushed into Luthor’s office ahead of Lara, to see four soldiers reading a map on Lex Luthor’s desk.

Sharon drew her pistols quickly, aiming them at the man who stood leaning over the map. She subtly signaled Lara to close the door – Lara did, locking it quickly.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Sharon walked toward the four slowly, keeping her pistols trained on them as they watched her crossing the room with their eyes only. As she passed them, she could see that they were reading a map of the building. They must have been trying to track her…but they failed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” One of the soldiers finally moved, training his rifle on Sharon. She responded in kind, aiming her second pistol on him. She also noticed that through the space the soldier had just vacated, she could see a stack of books. They looked like several copies of the Ancient Book of Rai, sitting among packaging for shipping. They planned on sending the books to someone.

“Ah, just what I was looking for.” Sharon turned to Lara, who understood her though not one word was exchanged. Lara picked up the books and headed toward the hallway. “That’s all I wanted. You can all go back to your work now.”

Sharon left the room running, with Lara close behind. She knew very well what would happen, and the shouts of soldiers from down the hall as she headed back toward the elevators confirmed that. They both dove into the still-open elevator and slipped through the open ceiling grating just as a massive amount of bullets began flying through the hallway toward them.

“We’ll slide down a bit.” Sharon pointed at the elevator cable from a neighboring elevator car. “Then we vanish. You understand, right?”

Lara nodded as she leapt for the elevator cable, sliding down quickly with Sharon just above her. They could hear the shouts of the soldiers above as they took a thirty-second trip to the ground floor. Lara immediately pried the elevator doors open.

Sharon started heading into the lobby first – but then suddenly froze in the doorway. “Oh…hell.”

Lara looked past Sharon to discover why she seemed so surprised – in the lobby of the LexCorp building stood four small dinosaur-like creatures, which were tearing apart the desks next to the entrance. The glass front door was smashed open.

“Velociraptors.” Sharon turned to Lara, a mixture of fear and anticipation in her eyes. “The deadliest carnivores in existence.”

“It’s either bullets or teeth…and there’s only one way out of here.” Lara smiled. Sharon nodded and smiled in return. They both knew they would have to make a run for the doors, and hope for the best.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Lara and Sharon raced across the lobby as quickly as they could. The glass doors seemed miles away as the Raptors noticed the two of them running, and gave chase. It was only seconds before the first soldiers arrived in the lobby, adding yet another threat – another hail of bullets, shredding two of the Raptors as they tore through the lobby. It was just blind luck that the bullets seemed to miss Sharon and Lara. Or was it?

As soon as the two of them ran one more block and hid around a corner, Sharon turned to face Lara. “Those bullets should have hit us, shouldn’t they?”

Lara shook her head slowly as she reached under her shirt with two fingers, pushing them through a small hole in the fabric. “I did nothing to stop the bullets, but I am naturally bullet-proof. You’re just luckier then I am.”

Sharon laughed and shook her head. “When will you learn, Lara? I make my own luck.”

“I’d like to take you to visit someone, Sharon.” Lara smiled as she led Sharon into an abandoned building, to hide from the prying eyes on the street. “I think Kara will like you.”

“Dammit!” Commander Gorman kicked a garbage can angrily as soon as he got the news – that the two women had the drop on Hudson and Hicks, and now the entire sixth group. “Who the heck are these two, anyway?”

Lisa shook her head. “I have no idea, sir.”

“Don’t tell me that!” Gorman snatched two camera monitors from one of the tables and threw them on the floor. “All of this technology. All of our high-tech intelligence. Useless! We don’t even know if they’re still in the city!”

“They haven’t gone past any checkpoints, sir.”

Gorman laughed out loud and shook his head. “They didn’t when they came in, either, Lisa. That means one of two things – either these two are smarter then any of us, or we’re dumber then we think! Which is it, Lisa? Are they smart, or are we dumb?”

“I…I don’t know, sir.”

“Damn.” Gorman threw up his hands and sighed. “Buddy’s gonna bust me for this. I just know it.”

“All he has to know, sir, is that we’ve placed those two on the ‘wanted’ list.”

“What if he finds out what happened, Lisa?” Gorman kicked the garbage can again out of frustration. “He will find out. He always does.”

Lisa folded her arms and sighed as Gorman waited for her answer. “Well, sir…Then we’re busted.”

“You’re honest, I’ll give you that.” Gorman shook his head. “But that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Karen! She’s here!”

Carrie’s words were Lara’s only warning before she found two blonde teen-age twins ambushing her with hugs, an instant after she appeared in the entranceway to the Fortress. Sharon stood close behind Lara, smiling with amusement at what was happening in front of her.

Lara returned the hugs and glanced into the living room toward Kara, who stood silently in the doorway. “How did you know I was coming?”

Carrie shrugged. “I don’t know, I just did. Who’s this?”

“Sharon Holmes.” Sharon reached out a hand to give Carrie a handshake. She felt her hand nearly being crushed by the blonde teen until Carrie quickly adjusted her grip when she realized that Sharon was just an ordinary human. Sharon didn’t seem intimidated, however – she just smiled in response.

Karen didn’t seem at all interested in meeting Sharon. The look in her eyes told Lara that she had something on her mind, something that she thought was very important. Lara’s suspicions were confirmed when Karen pulled her aside suddenly.

“Something wrong, Karen?”

Karen nodded. “Mom doesn’t…trust you, Lara. She thinks you keep too many secrets. She thinks you keep secrets about us, and it scares her a little.”

“I see.” Lara sighed and looked away from Karen for a moment. “I keep secrets to protect those I care about–”

“Don’t you see–” Karen shook her head slowly. “–We don’t need your protection. It’s doing more harm then good, Lara. Mom values honesty, and integrity. She thinks you’re being a selfish, that you’re hiding something.”

Lara nodded. “I understand. I just did what I did because–”

“Because you thought the truth would hurt too much?” Karen smiled. “I’ve been there too, Lara. The truth always hurts…but deception hurts more.”

“Does your mom know you’re so philosophical?” Lara laughed and looked into the other room to see that Kara hadn’t moved. “All right, I’ll talk to Kara. But if she tries to kill me, it’ll be up to you to save my life.”

Karen laughed as she led Lara into the living room. “Don’t worry. She’s more reasonable then you think…for a mom.”

“Um…hi, Kara.”

Kara walked up to Sharon, shaking her hand lightly and momentarily ignoring Lara’s greeting. She sat down on the couch, indicating for Lara to sit on the chair across from her. Lara complied, sitting down quickly. Karen sat down at the other end of the couch.

“So–” Lara looked at Kara, who was staring at her with an emotionless gaze. She looked at Karen, who was giving her a hopeful look, and then at Sharon and Carrie, who were still talking in the entryway. “–What would you like to know about me?”

“How about what you are?” Kara leaned back and folded her arms as Karen gave her an angry gaze in response to her rather cold sounding question. “I’ve never really trusted mysterious types.”

Lara sighed deeply, clearly pausing for several seconds before opening her mouth to speak. “It’s not really clear to me, Kara. I feel that I had died once, much like you. Only I was restored by the power of a God rather then a practitioner of the Ancient Arts as you were. That’s why I have these…abilities. That’s why I’m…’in touch’ with the universe.”

Kara didn’t seem the least bit shocked at what Lara had said so far – but Lara’s story was compelling enough that nearly everyone who was in the Fortress had gathered in the living room to listen – Carrie and Sharon had walked in, as well as Rogue, and even Krypto.

“My memories of the event are still fuzzy, skewed.” Lara looked around the room as everyone stared at her, waiting for her to continue. “I have other’s memories intermingled with my own. Memories of someone named Lois Lane. A boy named Kon El…people who died in the attack at Cadmus. Thousands of people, Kara. Their blood is on Lex Luthor’s hands. I only wish I could remember more.”

Lara looked down as she held her hands in front of her. They were shaking a little. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists tightly to try and control her physical reaction to such stressful memories. Tears started forming in her closed eyes as she continued. “I tried to keep my memories to myself, Kara, because I see things…painful things…here in Otherverse. I suffer these visions, thoughts and feelings that no one should have to see. Things that will happen, or that have happened. Death, pain…everywhere. I feel them all. It’s…overwhelming.”

Lara opened her eyes again as she felt Kara grip her left hand tightly. She smiled politely at Kara’s encouragement. “I see someone close to you dying, Kara. I don’t know who, or when. I see this place…your home…being destroyed. I see the twins being split up, against their will. I see a man, a military man, having to change everything he believes in to fight a vicious and bloody war…one he’s losing. But he refuses to give up. I see a lone man in a place filled with life, and magic…he feels tortured, persecuted–”

“Wait, wait…stop.” Kara leaned forward toward Lara, looking deep into her tear-filled eyes. “What you’re telling me now makes little sense. Can’t you be more specific? At least about how this effects us?”

Lara shook her head sadly. “I wish I could. These…feelings are all things I know are close to you and the twins somehow. I see a lot of danger ahead for the twins. And for you, if you choose to help in this war–”

“War?” Kara looked at Karen, who seemed to be upset a little bit by everything Lara said. “You mentioned a war twice.”

“Yes.” Lara nodded. “It’s a war that’s already underway. Lex Luthor is working to escalate it.”

“So…why don’t you just like…put a stop to it?” Carrie’s sudden question prompted stares toward her – she just folded her arms, waiting for an answer.

“I can’t.” Lara shook her head quickly. “I’m no Goddess. I don’t have the right to interfere.”

“As far as they’re concerned…you are a Goddess.” Sharon leaned back against the doorway to the kitchen as she spoke. “The trick is to keep them from becoming dependent on you. If you behave like Moses leading them from bondage, they will become attached to you. You can intervene, but you have to be inconspicuous. You have to make it seem like an accident.”

Karen laughed out loud. “Then you truly would be a Goddess, Lara. A real Goddess uses nature and chance to do her bidding.”

“Aren’t I teased enough about that?” Lara laughed a little too, before realizing that Kara had a horrified look on her face. “What’s wrong, Kara?”

“Kal always taught me that it’s wrong to interfere too much. That people have to learn to be self-sufficient.” Kara stood up and paced around the room a little bit. “But I don’t like to stand by and watch people die, either. I was always more sensitive to that then Kal. It was your suggestion, Sharon…what would you do?”

“If I were a Goddess–” Sharon looked around the room to see all eyes on here, including Kara’s – but a little attention never bothered her. “–I would render the Metas, and all weapons of mass destruction powerless. I would level the playing ground, so mere humans…like me…have a fighting chance here.”

The room suddenly fell silent as each person began to silently consider what Sharon had suggested. It would surely change Otherverse Earth from a barely livable hell to something a little more civilized. Something that had hope for a future. No one’s thoughts were more on the future then Kara’s – she wanted…needed…her daughters to live in a world better then the one she discovered. She hoped that one day they would be peacemakers, and protectors here…not part of a war machine.

For Kara, Sharon’s suggestion to Lara seemed more like a salvation then simply idle talk. It sounded so appealing, in fact, that she found herself staring at Lara, fighting her own urge to encourage the idea. But something deep down caused her to hold her tongue. Lara was correct…it wouldn’t be right for her to interfere.

Everyone in the room heard Kara audibly sigh as she sat back down on the couch. She looked at Carrie and Karen sadly, as she realized that she almost sold out the integrity of an entire universe to protect the two things she cared about most – her daughters.

“Lara…Do what you feel is right…for the future.” Kara smiled at her weakly as she spoke. “Don’t let anyone else tell you what you should do.”

“I’ll do that, Kara–” Lara knew what Kara meant by ‘the future’. She looked right at the twins, who were now standing together at one end of the living room, and smiled. Kara knew that Otherverse Earth was a dangerous place for her daughters…and while she wouldn’t admit it plainly, she would do just about anything to keep them safe – even subtly asking someone like Lara for help. “–For the future.”

Kara smiled and nodded at Lara as she and Sharon headed toward the entryway. Kara knew that the two of them would unceremoniously disappear in a flash of light, headed toward their respective homes. She still wasn’t completely sure she could trust her own life to Lara…but it made her feel a little more secure to know that she could trust Lara with her daughters.

#4 – Medium (Comic Script)

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PAGE 1
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PANEL 1

Exterior: Female silhouette about the same height as Batgirl (5’5″, for those who missed orientation), wearing her cape and mask, standing over two neighboring gravestones, overgrown with vines. The moon is above (it’s at night, unless the moon started shining during the daytime), filtered through both approaching clouds and trees. The tree branches and Batgirl’s cape are being blown by a stiff wind caused by an approaching storm.
PANEL 2

Exterior: Flash of lightning tearing across the sky. Rain starting to fall in the foreground.
PANEL 3

Exterior: Closer shot behind Batgirl, her head is hung, and you can see two vine-covered gravestones in front of her. The writing on them is obscured by the pouring rain, large drops are bouncing off her leather cape.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “I AM ALONE.”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Shot from behind the gravestones. You can see them at the bottom part of the panel, Batgirl is standing above them. A “phantom” image of fire surrounds the stones and Batgirl both, as it’s something out of her imagination.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “I AM AN ORPHAN NOW, IN THE TRUEST SENSE. I THOUGHT I WAS GAINING SOME CONTROL OVER MY LIFE. BUT I WAS WRONG. NOW, THEIR GRAVES STAND FOREVER, A TESTEMENT TO MY OWN ARROGANCE AND STUPIDITY.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “LONG AFTER I’M GONE…THEY’LL STILL BE HERE. MOCKING MY FUTURE. TARNISHING ANY GOOD I MIGHT DO DURING MY LIFE. MY PAST IS FILLED WITH REGRET–”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Close up facing Batgirl, with the vine covered gravestones fading into the shadows in the background. Large raindrops still pound her, lightning tears through the sky.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “–AND FOR THE SAKE OF MY FUTURE…I MUST NEVER RETURN HERE AGAIN.”

 

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PAGE 2
——

PANEL 1

Exterior: Full-page spread, with titles and credits. Side shot of Batgirl standing outside the cemetery, looking up to the top of a tall, gothic-style building across the street. The familiar darkened form of Batman is looking over Batgirl from atop that building. Rain is still pounding, etc, etc.

ISSUE SUB-TITLE: “A Happy Medium”

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “I SEE HIM UP THERE, AND HE KNOWS IT. HE SEEMS TO BE EVERYWHERE I GO.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “HE SEES SOMETHING OF HIMSELF IN ME…AND IT’S THE ONE THING IN ME THAT HE DOES NOT TRUST.”

 

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PAGE 3
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PANEL 1

Exterior: Night. Elsewhere in Gotham, in a working class but nice neighborhood. Individual houses (which you can see in the background), some townhouses, a few small apartment buildings. Focus is on the corner of an intersection (around 2 neighboring apartment buildings, each 4 floors tall), a older model blue Buick is parked next to the corner, and a nineteen-year old man is standing to the rear of the Buick, illuminated red by it’s left-on lights. The nineteen year old is wearing an oversized jacket with a logo, and is leaning toward an older man threateningly, he’s holding his hands in a “rap-style” arc toward the older man. The older man (about 45 or so) looks angry, but he’s leaning back in response – he feels a little threatened.

19-YEAR OLD 1: “YO! WHY DON’T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Same scene as last panel, but angle has changed to a shot from behind the 19-year old, toward the older man who is now red-faced and angry. He’s yelling at the 19-year old, but the kid doesn’t seem to care.

OLDER MAN 2: “I HAVE KIDS, YOU LITTLE JERK!”

OLDER MAN 3: “YOU CAN’T STAND HERE ON MY CORNER AND SELL YOUR…YOUR–”

19-YEAR OLD 4: “IT’S A FREE COUNTRY, MAN.”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Same scene, switch the focus to the younger man’s face. He has a smug smile on his face, and he’s now standing closer to the older man (you can see the older man’s head in the foreground). An “over the shoulder” view.

19-YEAR OLD 5: “I CAN SELL WHATEVER I WANT, WHEREVER I WANT. WHATCHA GONNA DO?”
PANEL 4

Exterior: A half-panel will do just fine here, same for the next one. Actions speak louder then words. Close up of the older man’s hands snatching a bag of white powder from the younger man.
PANEL 5

Exterior: Half-panel works great. Close up of a sewer grating, the white bag dropping through to the sewers below the street.
PANEL 6

Exterior: Shouldn’t have done that, buddy. Close-up shot of the older man partially bent over from tossing the bag into the sewer, his face a mask of fear. He now has the ice cold muzzle of a black nine-millimeter Baretta (a gun, in case you didn’t know) pressed against his forehead.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl, off-panel): “WE ALL DO THINGS IN OUR LIVES WE REGRET. IT’S ALWAYS THE SMALL THINGS–”

 

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PAGE 4
——

PANEL 1

Exterior: Close up of the younger man’s face. He has a menacing smile, shadows cover his face to make him seem positively e-vil.

19-YEAR OLD 1: “Say good night…chump.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl, off-panel): “–THAT SEEM TO GIVE US THE MOST TROUBLE.”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Aerial shot of the scene. You can see the car, the younger man holding a gun on the older man. A flash is coming from the muzzle of the gun, the sound echoing off the surrounding buildings. BLAM! (the word BLAM is to be written in large type across the top of this and the next 2 panels)

Sfx: BLAM!

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl, off-panel): “EVERY NIGHT IN GOTHAM–”
PANEL 3

Exterior: A small house from the outside, you can see a worried-looking woman closing the drapes quickly. She can hear the gunshot as well. BLAM!

Sfx: BLAM!

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl, off-panel): “–A FAMILY IS DESTROYED BY VIOLENCE.”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Batman standing atop a large building in Gotham, wind blowing his cape. He hears the distant sound of a gunshot, not too far away. His eyes are narrowed. BLAM!

Sfx: BLAM!

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl, off-panel): “MORE KIDS ARE LEFT TO FEND FOR THEMSELVES–”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Back to the ol’ corner again. Shot of the corner, detailed enough to see frightened nearby residents hiding in their homes, the Buick, and see the dead guy fairly clearly. The older man lies bleeding in the gutter, as the blue Buick drives off slowly in the background. His head is shattered, his eyes fixed open.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl, off-panel): “AND ANOTHER SPOUSE…LOSES HER WILL TO LIVE.”

 

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PAGE 5
——

PANEL 1

Exterior: The same corner where the shooting occurred in the previous scene, still night. A short amount of time has passed. Probably a couple of hours, since Gotham’s Finest aren’t exactly Gotham’s fastest. The street is crowded with police cars, spotlights are pointed toward a pool of blood in the street, where the man who was shot used to be lying. Crime scene tape is everywhere. News reporters are being held behind a barricade (if you get bored, stick Lois Lane in there). Commissioner Gordon is interviewing an old woman who’s holding a handkerchief.

OLD WOMAN 1: “THIS USED TO BE SUCH A NICE, QUIET NEIGHBORHOOD. BUT LATELY–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Gordon): “SHE KNEW THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN SHOT. IT WAS HER SON. I WATCHED HER BREAK DOWN IN FRONT OF MY EYES. I KNEW IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE BATMAN HEARD ABOUT THIS–”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Same scene, new shot from behind Gordon toward the top of a nearby building. A dark silhouette (it’s Batgirl) is standing there, barely moving. You can see the old woman in the background, sobbing into her handkerchief.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Gordon): “–AND DECIDED TO TAKE MATTERS INTO HIS OWN HANDS. IN LIGHT OF WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DAUGHTER, A PART OF ME HOPED BATMAN WOULD FIND THESE PEOPLE–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Gordon): “–AND GIVE THEM WHAT THEY DESERVED.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Gordon): “BUT IT WASN’T BATMAN I COULD SEE UP THERE. IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE.”
PANEL 3

Interior: Gordon is running up a dark staircase, sweat pouring down his forehead.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Gordon): “IN RETROSPECT, IT WASN’T ONE OF MY SMARTEST MOMENTS. ANYONE…ANYTHING COULD HAVE BEEN UP THERE. BUT SOMETIMES, YOU HAVE TO TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS.”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Gordon bursts through the door at the top of the staircase. Around him is nothing but the standard pipes and junk you normally find on the roof of a small apartment building.

THOUGHT CAPTION 7 (Gordon): “STILL, I BEGAN TO FEEL LIKE I WAS WASTING MY TIME.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Close up of a black gloved finger tapping Gordon on the shoulder. Gordon’s head is turning around to see who’s tapping on him.

THOUGHT CAPTION 8 (Gordon): “AND THEN, JUST LIKE THAT–”
PANEL 6

Exterior: Side shot from just off the edge of the roof. Batgirl and Gordon, facing each other. She’s shaking his hand.

THOUGHT CAPTION 9 (Gordon): “I MET HER.”
PANEL 7

Exterior: Angle from behind Gordon, who is leaning over the edge of the apartment building. He’s watching Batgirl swing away from him on a cable attached to a telephone pole across the street.

THOUGHT CAPTION 10 (Gordon): “JUST A YOUNG WOMAN TRYING TO FOLLOW IN BATMAN’S FOOTSTEPS. JUST LIKE MY DAUGHTER, BARBARA.”

 

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PAGE 6
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PANEL 1

Interior: Bruce’s office in the Wayne Mansion. A rather spartan room, just a desk and a couple of chairs – and of course, expensive paintings and occasional medieval armor decoration. On his desk is a fluorescent lamp, a computer in one corner, a writing pad, and a couple of pens. From the computer runs a cord, to a microphone, which Bruce is holding as he leans back in his expensive leather office chair.

Bruce 1: “Record.”

Bruce 2: “CASSANDRA APPEARS TO BE…FEELING…REMOURSE? COULD SHE BE FEELING REGRET OVER WHAT SHE DID TO HER PARENTS?”
PANEL 2

Interior: Faint image of a window with flames coming out, second overlapping picture of him dragging Cassandra out the window, third overlapping picture of Cassandra’s clouded eyes looking up at him. He’s digging through memories of his.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Bruce): “THIS IS BECOMING MORE THEN A LITTLE…FRIGHTENING. THIS YOUNG GIRL IS LIKE A DARK MIRROR OF WHAT I WAS AT HER AGE.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Bruce): “ONLY SHE’S MORE…DRIVEN. MORE–”
PANEL 3

Interior: Side shot as Bruce holds the microphone away from his face. He just spotted a small bat-shaped object on his desk. It’s a little microphone.
PANEL 4

Interior: Shot from the side of Bruce, he’s angrily storming toward the partially open door to the hallway. His left hand is gripping the small bat-device.
PANEL 5

Interior: Bruce has opened the door, Cassandra is standing in front of it. She looks a little sad, her head hangs a little. Bruce looks confused.

Cassandra 5: “YES.”

Bruce 6: “YES, WHAT?”
PANEL 6

Interior: Close-up of Cassandra’s face. A tear is forcing it’s way from one eye.

Cassandra 7: “REGRET. I…FEEL REGRET.”
PANEL 7

Interior: Bruce is standing in front of Cassandra, the view is from behind him. He has a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.

Bruce 8: “CASSANDRA, YOU’VE TAKEN THE FIRST BIG STEP.”

Bruce 9: “YOU WANT TO BE A CRIME FIGHTER? A REAL CRIME FIGHTER, LIKE I AM?”
PANEL 8

Interior: Nearly the same view as the last panel, but Cassandra’s smiling now.

Cassandra 10: “YES.”
PANEL 9

Interior: Bruce slipping past Cassandra through the doorway.

Bruce 11: “MEET ME DOWNSTAIRS. ONE HOUR. IT’S TIME YOU HAD SOME REAL TRAINING.”

 

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PAGE 7
——

PANEL 1

Interior: Cassandra is standing in a dark hallway, opening a door slowly. The view is a little to her side, so you can see her look of shock and surprise as the bright light from the room streams through the partially open door and across her face. She’s wearing jeans, white sneakers, and a light colored long-sleeved shirt (I usually don’t mention clothes, but in this case it’s important that she’s the most colorful person in the room).
PANEL 2

Interior: Large panel of the inside of Bruce Wayne’s dining room. Cassandra is standing in the doorway to the rear of the room, to give you the impression that she’s dwarfed by the size of the enormous room. The room is now empty of furniture, except for a chair. A white rectangular mat covers most of the floor from the center out. Bruce is sitting in the chair at one end of the mat, dressed all in black, on the same side of the room where Cassandra is entering through the door. A tall, obviously strong man wearing a white Karate robe and bare feet is standing at the other end of the mat, his arms folded.
PANEL 3

Interior: Partial shot of the room, covering only the area where Bruce and Cassandra are located. Bruce is smiling in reaction to Cassandra’s confusion, as he’s sitting in the chair in the foreground. He seems a little amused by the whole thing. Cassandra is standing directly behind the chair, still looking a little confused.

BRUCE 1: “WELCOME TO YOUR TRAINING LESSON, CASSANDRA. THIS MAN, A FRIEND OF MINE, IS A BLACK BELT IN KARATE.”
PANEL 4

Interior: Quick view of the stranger in the robe, hands held together palm to palm, bowing slightly.
PANEL 5

Interior: Close-up of Cassandra returning the bow, same pose as the stranger used. Polite, isn’t she?

BRUCE (Off-panel) 2: “YOUR OBJECTIVE IS TO TAKE HIM DOWN WITHOUT SERIOUSLY HURTING HIM, AND LEARN HIS NAME…IF HE DOESN’T TAKE YOU DOWN FIRST.”

BRUCE (Off-panel) 3: “MY ROLE IN THIS IS TO INTERFERE WITH YOU AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.”
PANEL 6

Interior: Close-up of Bruce rising to his feet, shoving the chair aside quickly.

BRUCE 4: “GOOD LUCK, CASSANDRA.”
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PAGE 8
——

PANEL 1

Interior: Close-up of Cassandra ducking to the side quickly, the stranger’s bare foot passing only inches from her face.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Cassandra): “I WAS NEARLY CAUGHT OFF GUARD WHILE WAITING FOR SOME KIND OF SIGNAL FROM BRUCE THAT THE TRAINING EXCERSIZE HAD BEGUN.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Cassandra): “I MUST HAVE MISSED IT.”
PANEL 2

Interior: Cassandra tackling the strange man to the white mat, holding him down by his shoulders. You can see Bruce approaching in the background.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Cassandra): “I QUICKLY LEARNED THAT TWO WELL-TRAINED MEN AGAINST ONE FIVE AND A HALF FOOT TALL WOMAN–”
PANEL 3

Interior: Cassandra being tossed aside by the robed man. You can see her eyes looking toward Bruce, who’s reaching for her feet.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Cassandra): “–MEANT THAT I WAS SERIOUSLY OUTCLASSED.”
PANEL 4

Interior: Cassandra is getting up slowly. You can see Bruce at one end of the panel, heading toward her menacingly. At the other end, the strange man is heading toward her menacingly. She’s about to be caught in the middle. But her eyes are watching a chair at one end of the mat (it was there all along). The look on Cassandra’s face is determination, but not anger.

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Cassandra): “BUT WHAT I LACK IN STRENGTH–”
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PAGE 9
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PANEL 1

Interior: Cassandra is rolled into a ball, her arms holding her legs against her chest. She’s tumbling right past Bruce, who’s reaching for her in futility.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Cassandra): “–I MAKE UP FOR–”
PANEL 2

Interior: Cassandra’s hands are holding the front legs of the chair. She’s leaning it over her, and Bruce is colliding with the chair’s back. His feet are off the floor, the chair’s back is tossing him over it.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Cassandra): “–WITH INGENUITY.”
PANEL 3

Interior: Bruce is laying at one end of the mat on the floor in the background. Cassandra is hitting the strange man in the face with the chair, causing two of the legs to break off. The strange man is leaning away from her, losing his balance.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Cassandra): “AND SO THE TABLES WERE TURNED.”
PANEL 4

Interior: Cassandra has folded the heavy white mat over the strange man, to prevent him from getting up. She’s sitting on top of the folded mat to add extra weight on top of him, just in case. She’s holding a handful of his hair tightly, pulling it. You can see the pain on his face. You can see Bruce in the background, sneaking toward Cassandra.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Cassandra): “I WAS IN CONTROL.”

CASSANDRA 5: “NAME?”

STRANGER 6: “M-MASTER SAN.”
PANEL 5

Interior: Closer look at the man’s face, Cassandra twists the handful of hair some more.

THOUGHT CAPTION 7 (Cassandra): “IT DIDN’T TAKE THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE TO TELL THAT HE WAS LYING.”

CASSANDRA 8: “NAME?”

STRANGER 9: “GO…TO HELL.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 10 (Cassandra): “BUT I WOUDLN’T LET THAT BOTHER ME.”
PANEL 6

Interior: Cassandra saw Bruce approaching out of the corner of her eye. She’s still pinning the stranger, but her eyes are turned toward Bruce, and her right foot is planted firmly in his stomach.

THOUGHT CAPTION 11 (Cassandra): “BECAUSE I KNEW…DEEP DOWN–”
PANEL 7

Interior: Cassandra has a hand on the stranger’s throat now. Bruce is in the background, trying to catch his breath.

THOUGHT CAPTION 12 (Cassandra): “–THAT I HAD ALREADY BEATEN THEM.”

BRUCE 13: “CASSANDRA…STOP! HIS NAME IS BOB SAMPSON.”

 

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PAGE 10
——-

PANEL 1

Interior: Half panel. Cassandra is standing up. She has removed the white mat from on top of Bob Sampson, and is offering him a hand. She’s smiling, full of pride over what she’s done.
PANEL 2

Interior: Half panel. Side shot. Bob stands up, frowning at Cassandra’s attempt at politeness. You can now see that he’s bruised up a bit, and his nose is bleeding.
PANEL 3

Interior: Shot from behind Cassandra, she’s looking at Bruce and Bob. Bruce and Bob look at each other seriously. Cassandra is still smiling.
PANEL 4

Interior: Cassandra is now frowning, as the two men behind laughing heartily. She’s not sure if they’re laughing at her or at something else.
PANEL 5

Interior: Shot from behind Bruce, so you can see Cassandra’s face. Bruce is standing in front of Cassandra, one hand on her shoulder. She’s looking up at him, their eyes meet. She’s still partially frowning.

BRUCE 1: “I’M SORRY, CASSANDRA. WE CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BEAT THAT EXCERCISE SO EASILY.”

BRUCE 2: “TIM HAD TROUBLE WITH IT…SO DID BARBARA.”
PANEL 6

Interior: Reverse of last panel. Shot from behind Cassandra, so you can see Bruce’s smiling face.

BRUCE 3: “CONGRATULATIONS. YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON WHO MANAGED TO LEARN BOB’S NAME.”
PANEL 7

Interior: Close-up of Cassandra’s face. She seems happy now. Poor Cassandra doesn’t receive praise all that often.

BRUCE (Off-panel) 4: “CASSANDRA…YOU’RE READY.”

 

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PAGE 11
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PANEL 1

Exterior: Night. Street-level view. The same street corner where the shooting occurred earlier in the story. The same blue Buick is pulling up to the corner, the same 19-year old inside. You can see frightened residents in the background racing for their homes, closing their blinds.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl, off-panel): “THIS IS A CORNER STILL STAINED WITH BLOOD.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl, off-panel): “THE BLOOD OF AN INNOCENT.”
PANEL 2

Exterior: High street-level shot. The 19-year old gets out of his car and looks at a an apartment nearby. He now has a cigarette in his mouth, and is carelessly flinging the match to a nicely mowed strip of grass. He can see two eyes peering at him through closed venetian blinds, and he’s smiling with self-contentment.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl, off-panel): “AND YET HE RETURNS TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME. HE DOESN’T FEAR ANYONE, EVEN THE POLICE.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl, off-panel): “TO HIM, WE’RE ALL THE SAME. ALL PAWNS IN SOME GAME. COPS, HEROES…WE ALL DIE JUST AS EASILY TO HIM.”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Another car drives up in the opposite direction that the blue Buick is parked. The view is along a “tunnel” between the two cars, where the 19-year old is leaning toward the driver’s side of the recently arrived car.

19-YEAR OLD 5: “GOT THE MONEY?”

MAN INSIDE CAR 6: “FRANK, I–”

19-YEAR OLD 7: “DON’T CALL ME THAT, DEADBEAT.”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Close-up of Frank’s (the 19-year old) face. The “camera” is pointing at him from inside the newly arrived car’s passenger seat, so you can see Frank flick his cigarette at the driver.

19-YEAR OLD 8: “YOU KNOW WHAT I DO TO DEADBEATS?”

MAN INSIDE CAR 9: “DON’T…PLEASE–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 10 (Batgirl, off-panel): “I WASN’T GOING TO LET HIM KILL ON MY WATCH.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Half panel, close side shot between the two cars. Close-up of the 19-year old pressing his gun against the head of the man inside the car. The man is crying, his eyes are tightly pressed closed. The trigger on the gun is partly pulled back by the 19-year old’s finger.
PANEL 6

Exterior: Half-panel, close-up of the 19-year old’s hand, his fingers spread out. The gun is out of his hand, and a small bat-wing is airborne.

19-YEAR OLD (Off panel) 1: “WHAT THE–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl, off-panel): “NOT TONIGHT.”
PANEL 7

Exterior: Close shot. The 19-year old is bending down to pick up his gun. His head is jerked to the side, spit and blood are coming from his nose and mouth as a small black-gloved fist has just hit him, hard.
PANEL 8

Exterior: Shot from behind Batgirl, as she looks over the 19-year old. You can see the 19-year old within her reach, propping himself up on his hands and smiling at her. He doesn’t see her as a threat.
PANEL 9

Exterior: Still a shot from behind Batgirl, only angled so you can more clearly see that she now has her boot firmly pressing into the 19-year old’s shoulder. She’s intent on keeping him down – and now she’s the one smiling.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “STOPPING HIM SEEMED EASY ENOUGH–”
PANEL 10

Exterior: Shot from behind Batgirl as she turns her head to look at the blue Buick. The doors are all open now, three more thugs are climbing out armed with guns of their own.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “BUT THEN THINGS BECAME…COMPLICATED.”

 

——-
PAGE 12
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: Wide shot facing front of the 19-year old’s car. All of it’s doors are open, the headlights are on – and Batgirl is standing at the ready in the center of the frame. She’s facing the car, away from the camera shot. The 19-year old is propping himself up on the ground below her, and the three thugs are heading toward her slowly – all carrying nine millimeter pistols.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “I COULD HAVE EASILY DISARMED THEM…BUT NOT BEFORE THEY KILLED AN INNOCENT.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “I MAY BE FAST. BUT NOT FASTER THEN A BULLET.”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Camera shot alongside Batgirl’s arm, toward the top of a building just above her. She’s firing a cable launcher toward the roof, preparing to make a quick escape.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “IT WAS TIME TO PLAY IT SAFE.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “TO DRAW THEIR ATTENTION…ELSEWHERE.”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Batgirl is now standing on the roof of the building, crouched down. View angle is from behind her, so we can see down to the street level. The three thugs are rushing into the building, guns drawn, headed up toward the roof.

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl): “THEY WOULD HAVE TO COME UP HERE TO GET ME…WHERE I HAVE THE ELEMENT OF SUPRISE.”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Batgirl is now standing on top of the shack which covers the stairway to the roof, allowing access through a door on one side. She’s hidden in shadow, but you can see that she’s there, standing at the ready.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl): “THUGS CAN BE SO PREDICTABLE SOMETIMES.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: The thugs are now out on the roof, looking for her – but they don’t look behind them and up. Batgirl is leaping into the air, intent on crashing through them feet-first. Camera angle is from behind Batgirl, so you can clearly see her descending upon them.

 

——-
PAGE 13
——-

(Note: The first 4 panels of this page are quick-action panels, so they’re small in size.)

PANEL 1

Exterior: Floor-angle shot of one of the thugs lying on his stomach, reaching for his gun, which is on the gravel rooftop. One hand is reaching for a pistol, while Batgirl’s black-gloved fist punches him in the side of the face. His eyes are wide and filled with pain, blood is spattering from his mouth.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “AND JUST AS I PREDICTED–”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Another man, his hand reaching for his gun, one of Batgirl’s boots squashing his face between it and the gravel rooftop.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “–IT WAS ALL OVER–”
PANEL 3

Exterior: One man is charging Batgirl, anger in his eyes, and his mouth yelling something silent. Don’t even bother to give him a speech balloon, it doesn’t matter what he’s saying, and it’s probably not CCA compliant anyhow. You can see Batgirl’s back as he’s approaching her.
PANEL 4

Exterior: Angle from Batgirl’s side. She has stepped aside just in time for the man charging her to go right by. She is gripping his shirt with both hands tightly, swinging him around to use his momentum to move him far away from her.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “–BEFORE IT HAD BEGUN.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Wide view from behind Batgirl. She’s watching the man she just swung around herself as he loses his balance and falls off the edge of the roof. His body is bent over the edge of the roof, his foot trying desperately to grip the edge…but it’s not enough.

(Note: Next three panels are quick-action panels, with a large letter bloodcurdling scream written across the top of them. It’s the scream of the man who had just fallen off the roof.)

Sfx: YAAHHHH!!!
PANEL 6

Exterior: Quick view of Batgirl’s cold-looking eyes.
PANEL 7

Exterior: Quick view of the remaining thugs, in the middle of picking themselves up. They’re frozen with fear, their eyes mirroring that. They didn’t expect a super-hero to kill one of them.
PANEL 8

Exterior: The thugs crowding into the doorway to the stairs, desperate to escape Batgirl.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “THEY’RE COMMON THUGS–”
PANEL 9

Exterior: View over Batgirl’s shoulder, as she notices that the thugs left all of their weapons behind.

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl): “–WITH NO RESPECT FOR LIFE–”
PANEL 10

Exterior: Another view over Batgirl’s shoulder. She’s looking over the edge of the roof at the man who fell, his broken and bloody body lying on a pile of garbage in the alley below.
PANEL 11

Exterior: View from the alley below, from the dying man’s point of view. He can see faintly see Batgirl looking over the edge of the roof at him.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl): “–UNLIKE ME.”
——-
PAGE 14
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: Batgirl is using her cape, spread out to glide to the alley below quickly.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “EVERY LOOK INTO THE EYES OF A DYING MAN?”
PANEL 2

Exterior: She lands hard. You can tell because her cape is still spread, but her landing places her with one boot on the ground, and one knee. She’s learned to ‘collapse her legs’ to absorb impact of large falls. You can see the man’s broken body in the foreground, Batgirl directly behind him.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “IT’S SOMETHING YOU SEE ONCE–”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Front view of Batgirl as she is standing up, her head looking up at a apartment’s window just above her. She can see a phone just inside the window.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “–AND LIVE WITH FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.”
PANEL 4

Interior: View from inside the apartment, facing toward the window. Batgirl’s gloved hand is reaching in, dialing 911 on an old bell-style phone. The handset is lying on the floor.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “BRUCE’S NUMBER ONE RULE WAS TO ALWAYS AVOID DETECTION.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Close up shot of Batgirl taking the dying man’s hand. You can see her bending down in the background, but you can’t see her face or the dying man’s.

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl): “TO HECK WITH RULES.”

 

——-
PAGE 15
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: Side shot of Batgirl kneeling next to the dying man, clutching his hand tightly against her chest. Her head is bowed, keeping her eyes on him at all times. The man is unconscious, he doesn’t respond.
PANEL 2

Exterior: Shot from outside the alley. People are slowly approaching, as they can see the spectacle of Batgirl holding this man’s hand.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “I HAD TO STAY–”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Wide shot from inside the alley. You can see the crowd gathering outside the alley, and a police car has just driven up.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “–BECAUSE I WASN’T JUST SAVING HIS LIFE–”
PANEL 4

Exterior: Bird’s eye view of the whole scene, from atop the building…Or perhaps a Bat’s eye view? Police car and crowd outside the alley, Batgirl kneeling over the dying man inside the alley.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “–I WAS SAVING MY OWN SOUL.”

 

——-
PAGE 16
——-

PANEL 1

Interior: Overhead view of Bruce Wayne’s in-home office. Bruce is sitting at his desk, Cassandra is standing in front of the desk, avoiding Bruce’s gaze.

BRUCE 1: “THEY COULD HAVE ARRESTED YOU, CASSANDRA. THEY COULD HAVE DISCOVERED YOUR IDENTITY.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “BRUCE WAS UPSET THAT I BROKE ONE OF HIS ‘RULES’.”
PANEL 2

Interior: Bruce is now pacing the room. The view is over his shoulder as he paces, you can see Cassandra standing several feet away, her eyes following Bruce. Her expression is blank, giving no clue to her thoughts

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “BUT BRUCE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ME. HE NEVER DID.”
PANEL 3

Interior: Close up of Cassandra, her expression now a sad frown. She’s looking downward, toward the floor, her eyes partially closed. Ghosted behind the image of her is what she’s remembering: The dying man from the previous scene, being loaded into an ambulance. You can see the man’s eyes looking at you, they have a grateful but confused look to them.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “HE NEVER WILL.”

BRUCE (Off-panel) 5: “What’s wrong?”
PANEL 4

Interior: Side shot of Bruce towering over Cassandra. She’s looking up at him, as though trying to communicate something with him. Her eyes are beginning to tear. Ghosted between them is an image of the dying man’s eyes again.

BRUCE 6: “Are you okay, Cassandra? Do you feel sick?”

THOUGHT CAPTION 7 (Batgirl): “I WANTED SO BADLY TO SHOW HIM WHAT I FELT, WHAT I’D SEEN. THE LOOK IN THE MAN’S EYES WHEN HE REALIZED I’D SAVED HIM.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 8 (Batgirl): “I FELT LIKE A HERO…YET BRUCE WANTS ME TO FEEL SHAME.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 9 (Batgirl): “SHAME FOR FEELING SOMETHING FOR PEOPLE…FOR CARING.”
PANEL 5

Interior: Side view Close-up of Cassandra’s face. Bruce’s shadow is cast across her face so you know he’s still there. It also emphasizes the fact that she always feels like she’s in his shadow. Get it? This isn’t just any other dialogue, it’s a breakthrough.

CASSANDRA 10: “I CARE.”

BRUCE 11: “YOU CARE? ABOUT WHAT?”

CASSANDRA 12: “PEOPLE. MY WORK.”
PANEL 6

Interior: View from behind Bruce, over his shoulder. He’s still standing over Cassandra, casting a shadow over her.

BRUCE 13: “I UNDERSTAND. YOU’RE LETTING YOUR FEELINGS GET INVOLVED WITH YOUR WORK.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 14 (Batgirl): “ONE OF HIS CARDINAL RULES HAD BEEN VIOLATED.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 15 (Batgirl): “NEVER BECOME INVOLVED. REFER TO EVERYONE AS ‘THE VICTIM’, OR ‘THE PERPETRATOR'”

THOUGHT CAPTION 16 (Batgirl): “BUT THOSE PEOPLE HAVE NAMES. THEY HAVE LIVES…AND DREAMS.”
PANEL 7

Interior: Side view of Cassandra, in mirror to the previous side view (for variety, and if you line up all of the panels on this page it gives the illusion of a camera panning around the perimeter of the room). The shadow is still cast over her, but now Bruce’s hand is gently holding up Cassandra’s chin as she stares at him defiantly but sadly.

THOUGHT CAPTION 17 (Batgirl): “I EXPECTED THE LECTURE. I HAD PREPARED MYSELF FOR IT–”

BRUCE 18: “CASSANDRA, YOU’RE NOT THE SAME AS I AM. YOU WORK DIFFERENTLY. IF YOU HANDLE YOUR EMOTIONS BETTER THEN I DO…SO BE IT.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 19 (Batgirl): “HUH?”

 

——-
PAGE 17
——-

PANEL 1

Interior: View into Cassandra’s eyes, Bruce’s shadow still over her. Her eyes light up as Bruce continues complimenting her progress.

BRUCE 1: “YOU DO VERY WELL AS BATGIRL, CASSANDRA. YOU HAVE THE COURAGE TO DO THINGS I NEVER COULD DO–”

BRUCE 2: “–AND WHILE BATMAN IS FEARED BY EVERYONE…PEOPLE SEEM TO LIKE BATGIRL.”
PANEL 2

Interior: View between Cassandra and Bruce, toward the door to the room. They’re both looking toward the door. Standing in the doorway is Alfred.

ALFRED 3: “DINNER IS SERVED, MISS CASSANDRA. MASTER BRUCE.”
PANEL 3

Interior: Bruce, is still standing where he was, Alfred is still standing where he was (in the doorway). Cassandra is slipping past Alfred into the hallway, headed toward the dining room. View is up to the artist to decide.
PANEL 4

Interior: Bruce is now standing closer to Alfred, who’s still in the doorway. They’re looking at each other, and Bruce is smiling as if they have a secret between them.
PANEL 5

Interior: Alfred is standing in the doorway as Bruce walks past him into the hallway.

ALFRED 4: “EXCELLENT, MASTER BRUCE. YOU GAVE HER MY SPEECH NEARLY WORD FOR WORD.”
PANEL 6

Interior: View from down the hall, Bruce is approaching the “camera”. He’s shaking his head, but his eyes say that he’s trying not to laugh. Alfred is walking behind him, with an amused smile on his face.

 

——-
PAGE 18
——-

PANEL 1

Interior: Overhead view of Bruce Wayne’s office. His sitting at the desk in the nearly dark office, lit only by a computer screen. He’s holding up a microphone.

BRUCE 1: “Record.”

BRUCE 2: “CASSANDRA APPEARS UNABLE TO SUPPRESS HER EMOTIONS AS BATGIRL, TO SEPERATE HERSELF FROM HER WORK.”

BRUCE 3: “BUT IT’S NOT AS BAD AS IT SOUNDS…HER FEELINGS SEEM TO AUGMENT HER INSTINCTS AND SKILLS SOMEHOW.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Cassandra, off-panel): “EVERY NIGHT HE WOULD LOCK HIMSELF IN HIS OFFICE AND TALK TO HIMSELF ABOUT ME FOR A HALF HOUR OR SO.”
PANEL 2

Interior: View from just in front of the desk. Bruce is now leaning back a little in his chair, holding the microphone just in front of his chin.

BRUCE 5: “THE FACT THAT SHE’S ALMOST AS GOOD AS I AM AT THIS…AND IN SOME WAYS BETTER…IT MAKES ME START TO…RETHINK MY OWN METHODS.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Cassandra, off-panel): “HIS OWN APPROACH TO HIS WORK IS TO BE AS SCIENTIFIC AND ANALYTICAL AS POSSIBLE. MY OWN STYLE IS MORE…CHAOTIC.”
PANEL 3

Interior: View from the side of the desk. You can see a dark form of Cassandra in the background, but Bruce hasn’t noticed yet.

BRUCE 7: “SHE’S A LOT LIKE ME, BUT NOTHING LIKE ME AS WELL. I’D FIGURED OUT DICK AND TIM QUICKLY…EVEN BARBARA DIDN’T TAKE THIS LONG TO FIGURE OUT.”

BRUCE 8: “CASSANDRA’S A MYSTERY TO ME–”
PANEL 4

Interior: Close-up of Bruce’s nose and mouth, with light from the computer screen streaked across. The microphone is just below his mouth.

BRUCE 9: “AND LIKE EVERY GOOD DETECTIVE, I FEEL I MUST SOLVE THIS MYSTERY.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 10 (Cassandra, off-panel): “HE SPENT A LOT OF TIME TALKING ABOUT ME. EITHER HE SAW ME AS A THREAT–”
PANEL 5

Interior: View from the side of Bruce’s head, toward the spot where the dark shadow of Cassandra was standing. Bruce is looking toward the spot. He just noticed her.

BRUCE 11: “I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, CASSANDRA. COME ON OUT.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 12 (Cassandra, off panel): “–OR HE WAS WORRIED SICK ABOUT ME.”
PANEL 6

Interior: Small panel of Bruce’s hand reaching for the switch on his desk lamp.
PANEL 7

Interior: Overhead view. Bruce is now standing up behind his desk, microphone still in hand. The office is filled with light, and he sees that he’s the only one in the room. Cassandra’s gone.

BRUCE 13: “Clever. Very clever.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 14 (Cassandra, off panel): “ONLY TIME WOULD TELL.”

 

——-
PAGE 19
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: Batgirl is standing atop that same ol’ apartment building next to the same ol’ corner again. You know, the one where she kicked some butt the last time out. The view is from behind her and angled downward as she’s crouched down on top of the roof, watching over the street below. Not a soul is out there but her.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “SEEING THIS PLACE MAKES ME SAD. THIS NEIGHBORHOOD USED TO BE SO ALIVE.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “CHILDREN USED TO PLAY IN THE STREETS AT NIGHT. PARENTS WOULD SIT ON THEIR PORCHES, HAVING TO WORRY ONLY ABOUT MOSQUITO BITES.”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Close-up view of an old woman twisting closed the venetian blinds covering the inside of her window.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “BUT SOMETHING CHANGED. THIS PLACE WAS NOW RULED BY FEAR, WHERE PEOPLE HIDE BEHIND CLOSED BLINDS AND LOCKED DOORS.”
PANEL 3

Exterior: Ground-level view of the same ol’ blue Buick driving up to the corner, again. These idiots never learn, do they?

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “FEAR CREATED BY COWARDS. PEOPLE WHO ABUSE THEIR POWER, AND PREY ON THE WEAK FOR THEIR OWN ENTERTAINMENT.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl): “IT TAKES REAL POWER TO PROTECT THE WEAK. TO CARE–”
PANEL 4

Exterior: View from in front of Batgirl as she’s crouching next to the roof’s edge, the light from the street below shining on her dark costume. A familiar shadow is looming behind her – Batman. Batgirl knows who it is, she’s not even reacting to his presence right away.
PANEL 5

Exterior: Batgirl is now standing on her feet, looking up at Batman. Her body language telegraphs the fear that Batman will send her home.

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl): “I KNEW I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE…BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO DO WHAT YOU FEEL YOU NEED TO.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 7 (Batgirl): “BUT NOW THAT HE HAD FOUND ME, I WAS SURE HE WOULD SEND ME HOME…TO LEAVE THESE PEOPLE UNPROTECTED.”

BATMAN 8: “SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW YOUR FEELINGS. LET’S GO, YOUR LEAD.”
PANEL 6

Exterior: View is from just in front of Batgirl as she jumps off the edge of the building, her cape billowing out since she’s using it as a parachute. She’s smiling a little, has a little mischief in her eyes. You can see Batman’s dark form on the roof just behind her.

THOUGHT CAPTION 9 (Batgirl): “WHY HE WAS SO RESONABLE THAT NIGHT–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 10 (Batgirl): “I WOULD NEVER KNOW.”

 

——-
PAGE 20
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: View from the ground. The 19-year-old who’s obviously too stupid to be alive is standing next to his car (the door’s open, because he just stepped out) looking upward, watching Batgirl diving toward him feet first. He’s pulling a pistol from his jacket.

19-YEAR-OLD 1: “WHAT THE–”

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “SOME PEOPLE JUST DON’T LEARN–”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Close up view of Batgirl’s boots having a short and painful meeting with the 19-year-old’s face.
PANEL 3

Exterior: Close up of the 19-year-old’s face bloodied, hitting the sidewalk at an awkward and painful angle.
PANEL 4

Exterior: Close up of the 19-year-old’s face, bloodied, with blood dripping out of his mouth. He still has a defiant look in his eyes.

19-YEAR OLD 3: “YOU’RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!”
PANEL 5

Exterior: Slightly less close up shot of the 19-year-old. His eyes are now looking up, and are filled with fear. The large shadow of Batman is looming over him.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “–NO MATTER THE TEACHER.”
PANEL 6

Exterior: Close up of Batman’s gloved hand snatching the 19-year-old by his shirt, lifting him abruptly. You can see his head jerk back from being unexpectedly yanked off the ground.

THOUGHT CAPTION 5 (Batgirl): “THEN AGAIN, SOME TEACHERS–”
PANEL 7

Exterior: Side shot of Batman holding the 19-year-old’s face only inches from his own. At the bottom of the panel, you can see his hand still holding the guy’s shirt.

BATMAN 6: “I’LL BE WATCHING YOU.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 7 (Batgirl): “–ARE MUCH MORE–

PANEL 8

Exterior: Close up of Batman’s hand smashing the guy’s head through his own car window. You can see the pain on the guy’s face.

THOUGHT CAPTION 8 (Batgirl): “EFFECTIVE.”
PANEL 9

Exterior: View from close to the ground. You can see the 19-year-old slumped next to his car, beads of safety glass all around him. His eyes look dazed. You can see Batman’s boots and the bottom of his cape heading away from the area.

THOUGHT CAPTION 9 (Batgirl): “ONLY WHERE THERE WAS ONCE CALL FOR VIOLENCE–”

 

——-
PAGE 21
——-

PANEL 1

Exterior: Shot of the man slumped down still, but his eyes are now fearful, and he’s holding his arms in front of him for defense. The shadow of Batgirl is cast over him.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): “–THERE IS NOW CALL FOR COMPASSION.”
PANEL 2

Exterior: Side shot of Batgirl standing in front of the man as he continues holding his defensive pose – only his eyes are no longer fearful. She’s holding her hand out to him, offering to help him to his feet.
PANEL 3

Exterior: The 19-year old is now on his feet, leaning against the car’s rear door. Batgirl is holding open the driver’s door and pointing down the street insistently.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): “TOO MUCH VIOLENCE IS NOT A GOOD THING–”
PANEL 4

Exterior: View from the front of the car. You can see the 19-year old in the driver’s seat, the car’s headlights are on. Batgirl is standing next to the car, watching.

THOUGHT CAPTION 3 (Batgirl): “–BUT NEITHER IS TOO MUCH COMPASSION.”
PANEL 5

Exterior: View from above. You can see Batman in the foreground, looking down at the scene as the car is heading up the street away from Batgirl.

THOUGHT CAPTION 4 (Batgirl): “WHAT WE EACH LOOK FOR IN LIFE–”
PANEL 6

Exterior: Wider shot from above. A few doors on the street are open, people are outside. Two people are shaking Batgirl’s gloved hands. They all seem happy that their neighborhood has been saved. Batman is still on the roof above, talking to himself.

BATMAN 5: “Amazing. Simply amazing.”

THOUGHT CAPTION 6 (Batgirl): “–IS A HAPPY MEDIUM.”

 

#4 – Medium

A dark female form stood over two neighboring graves, he cape and her head both drooped down, motionless. The only witnesses were the moon and the birds as the form heeded neither the sounds of the night nor the stiff wind caused by an approaching storm. Even a sudden flash of lightning did nothing to capture her attention.

Batgirl stood in front of those two gravestones even as rain began pelting her costume mercilessly. She stood, eyes closed, trying to fight back tears which were trying to force their way through. She had to keep control of her feelings. She had to face her fears.

As she opened her eyes to look at the two graves once again, her feelings of regret and inward turned anger gave way to a wave of loneliness. She knew was an orphan now, and had no close friends to share her thoughts with. Her mind looked back at her thoughts before she set that fateful fire – for some reason, at the time, she thought she would finally gain some control over her life. She was wrong.

Her parents’ graves would stand forever, an eternal monument to her arrogance, and her stupidity. She had taken their lives without a second thought as to how it would affect anyone besides herself. The two gravestones would stand for centuries, mocking her and every one of her future descendents. No matter what she could possibly do to try to redeem herself, it would never be remembered as long.

Batgirl turned away from the graves as she hung her head and walked back toward the cemetery’s entrance. As she paused to take one more look at the two graves, she decided – for the sake of her future, she would never return here again.

As she stepped out onto the sidewalk, she glanced upward toward the roof of a nearby building. She knew Batman was there, watching over her. But that didn’t upset her. She knew he watched over her because he saw something of himself in her – and she knew that was the one thing he didn’t trust.

batlogo-small

“Yo! Why don’t you mind your own damn business!” The man who uttered those words in a threatening tone couldn’t have been more then nineteen years old – and yet he had the courage to talk that way to a forty-five year old father of two who politely asked him to move somewhere else.

“I have kids, you little jerk!” The older man’s face began turning red as he screamed at the younger man in torn jeans and an oversized jacket. “You can’t stand here on my corner and sell your…your–”

“It’s a free country, man”, the younger man said as he stepped closer to the older man, “I can sell whatever I want, wherever I want. Whatcha gonna do?”

The older man frowned as he snatched the plastic bag the younger man held and threw it into the sewer. Feeling proud of himself, he stood once again to face the younger man. He thought he had prevailed.

He was wrong.

As he stood up, his forehead met the cold steel muzzle at the end of a stolen nine millimeter Baretta. He froze, trying to think of a way he could plead his way out of this. He quickly contemplated begging for his life, offering to go down into the sewer, anything to take back the last ten seconds.

“Say good night, chump.”

Three flashes of the muzzle blast filled the streets as the accompanying sharp, loud snaps echoed off seemingly every building in Gotham City. Seconds was all it took for three hunks of lead, each only nine millimeters across, to tear their way through the older man’s brain.

As the older man’s shattered skull hit the concrete sidewalk, the younger man calmly climbed into the driver’s side of his old blue Buick and drove away. He gave no thought to the older man’s two children, or the fact that he was the only source of income for his family. He gave no thought to the fact that somewhere on that street, two children’s hearts had been broken, and the woman who was his wife had just lost her will to live.

batlogo-small

“This used to be such a nice, quiet neighborhood. But lately–” An old woman cut off her sentence as she quickly removed a handkerchief from her purse and resumed her sobbing. She knew the man who had been shot. He was her son.

Commissioner Gordon frowned and stared up at the top of a nearby apartment building as the old woman’s words echoed in his mind. He knew what those words meant – sooner or later, Batman would hear about it – and play vigilante in this neighborhood. He immediately closed his eyes and looked down at his boots as a painful image overwhelmed him – His daughter lying in the hospital, paralyzed. He half hoped Batman would give the shooter exactly what he deserved. Both of them.

As Gordon looked back up to the top of the building again, he noticed a dark, caped form standing atop the roof. But something about this form was…different. It was smaller then Batman. And female? Gordon squinted a little as he tried to concentrate. Another Batgirl? A villain?

“Who in heck…?” Without another word, Gordon slipped away from the police units nearby and headed into the building. Pure adrenaline powered his trip up four floors to the roof, a trip he would never have thought he could make on his own without taking a break. He burst through the door only to see…nothing.

Gordon sighed as he turned slowly toward the stairs. He felt a little…rejected. Batman never ran from him – he would always stand his ground and give Gordon a chance to explain himself. He froze in mid-stride as he felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. Gordon turned slowly, expecting to see someone holding a weapon on him – but instead, it was a young woman, shorter then himself, wearing a dark bat costume. It was Batgirl.

He froze as he stared into her dark, intense, unwavering gaze. She seemed to hypnotize him with her eyes as he stood frozen, not sure what to make of her. Not sure if she was friend or foe, or what she was capable of.

Then she smiled. A warm smile, accompanied by her holding out her gloved hand in an attempt to shake Gordon’s hand. He slowly extended his own hand, and shook hers slowly.

Still smiling, Batgirl took a couple of steps away from Gordon and removed a cable launcher from her belt. She gave him a thumbs-up sign just before she launched the cable – and was gone in seconds.

Gordon smiled to himself as he watched Batgirl disappear off into the darkness. She was no danger, she was just a sweet young woman trying to follow in Batman’s footsteps, in search of justice. Just like his daughter, Barbara.

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“Record.”

Bruce didn’t even wait until he was completely seated at his desk before he activated the recording system. His mind was racing over what he saw, and he had to run through his thoughts to make some sense out of them.

“Cassandra appears to be…feeling remorse? Could she be feeling regret at killing her parents?”

He rubbed his chin briefly as he recalled the scene at Cassandra’s house during her rescue. The whole house was going up in flames, no hope to save anyone. He spotted a shadow in the window – a young woman trying to escape the searing heat of the fire closing in on her. He remembered grabbing her quickly, pulling her out of the window…and watching her promptly lose consciousness from the smoke inhalation.

“This is becoming rather…frightening, even for me. This young girl is like a dark mirror of what I was at her age – only she’s more…driven. She’s more–”

Bruce interrupted himself and slammed his hand on the ‘stop’ button as he spotted a small bat-shaped object on the corner of his desk. He had been bugged! And he knew who the culprit was – Barbara would be much more subtle, and Tim depended more on his own ears then technology.

As he stood up, he angrily ripped the listening device from the corner of the desk and began storming toward Cassandra’s room – only before he even reached the door of his darkened office, he could see the door opening slowly. He could see Cassandra’s head peeking in through the partially open door.

Suddenly at a loss for words, Bruce just stared. He was waiting for her to give an excuse, apologize, anything. She had just broken one of his cardinal rules, not to mention breaking the trust he had in her.

“Yes.”

Bruce’s frown turned into an expression of confusion and curiosity. Cassandra was trying to tell him something, but he didn’t understand. “Yes, what?”

Cassandra stepped into the room and looked down at the floor as she approached Bruce slowly. “I…I feel regret.”

Bruce’s heart sank as he watched a single tear slide off of the end of Cassandra’s nose toward the floor. He now understood – before him stood not a powerful super-hero. She was simply a young woman looking for a place in the world. She wanted only for someone to care.

“Cassandra, you’ve taken the first big step.” He held her chin up so her eyes met his as he smiled. “You want to be a crime fighter? A real crime fighter?”

Cassandra nodded a ‘yes’.

Bruce headed toward the door, turning around to face Cassandra again just before he left. “Meet me downstairs, one hour. It’s time you had some real training.”

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Cassandra entered the large room downstairs to be surprised by it’s new surroundings. Where there was once a huge dining room table was now a soft, cotton-covered white mat. At one end of the mat stood a tall, obviously very strong man wearing a white robe with a black belt around his waist. Bruce sat on the only chair in the room, at the opposite end of the mat.

Bruce smiled. “Welcome to your training lesson, Cassandra. This man, who’s a friend of mine, is a black belt in Karate. Your object is to take him down without seriously hurting him, and learn his name – if he doesn’t take you down first. My job in this is to interfere with you as much as possible.”

Bruce stood up and shoved the chair aside. “Good luck, Cassandra.”

Cassandra stood for a moment staring at Bruce, waiting for him to give some kind of signal. She quickly found that there was none – she felt a shift in the air behind her, and ducked just in time before the strange man’s foot passed only inches above her head.

She quickly charged the man and tackled him, intent on pinning him to the mat – but she was seriously outmatched in strength. The man easily threw her to the mat and leapt back to his feet. Cassandra rolled away from him quickly only to catch Bruce out of the corner of her eye, trying to reach for her feet. She curled up to avoid Bruce and then jumped to her feet quickly.

Cassandra learned by now that fighting two men who were stronger then she was meant she would have to avoid assaulting either of them directly – she would have to remain on defense, and use her wits. She turned her head back and forth quickly to see that both Bruce and the strange man were heading toward her at the same time, quickly. She also spotted the chair again – she knew it was there for her to use.

She quickly curled into a ball and rolled past Bruce as he came toward her, grabbing the legs of the chair just as she sat up. When Bruce charged toward her an instant later, she leaned the chair and jammed the back of it between Bruce’s ribs, causing him to flip over the chair to the floor. She then jumped to her feet, lifted the chair up, and hit the strange man in the face with the wooden legs, causing two of them to break off. As soon as he fell to the ground, she reached down and folded the heavy safety mat on top of him, and jumped on top of the folded mat. He was trapped.

Keeping one eye on Bruce to make sure he didn’t interfere again, she grabbed a handful of the strange man’s hair and tugged on it gently. He howled in pain. “Name?”

“M-Master San.”

Cassandra gripped his hair a little harder, twisting a little bit as he screamed in pain again. She knew he was lying. They always lie the first time. “Name?”

“Go…to hell.”

As she spotted Bruce in her peripheral vision heading toward her from behind, Cassandra let anger fill her quickly. No more playing nice, it was time for her to get tough.

She kicked the approaching Bruce in the stomach, and hit him on the chin as he fell. She then wrapped her fingers around the strange man’s neck and snatched one of the broken chair legs laying on the ground nearby. She began shoving it mercilessly into his mouth.

“Name?”

The man began frantically waving at Bruce, who was slowly trying to rise to his feet and regain his equilibrium. As usual, he did so rather quickly – only this time, instead of rushing to stop Cassandra, he opted to try and talk to her this time.

“Cassandra, stop!” Bruce stepped toward her slowly. “His name is Bob Sampson.”

Cassandra released her hand from the man’s throat and tossed the chair leg aside. She then stood up and unfolded the mat, releasing the man, and held out her hand to help him back to his feet. Naturally, he refused her help and stood up on his own.

She stood a few feet away from the two bruised and exhausted men, smiling. Bruce stared at her in bewilderment before starting to laugh out loud. ‘Bob’ began laughing a second or two after. Her smile started turning into a frown – she didn’t understand what was so funny.

“I’m sorry, Cassandra.” Bruce stepped toward her and put one hand on her shoulder. “We can’t believe you beat that training exercise so easily. Tim had trouble with it, so did Barbara. Even Dick had trouble.”

“Congratulations.” Bruce leaned closer to Cassandra and looked right into her eyes. “You’re the only person who managed to learn Bob’s name.”

Cassandra smiled brightly as her mind completed Bruce’s next sentence before it left his mouth.

“Cassandra…You’re ready.”

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Curtains and blinds were instantaneously closed along a residential street as a blue Buick slowed to a stop on the corner. The same corner still stained with the blood of a man who wanted only to protect his family, and his neighbors. He learned the hard way that often no good deed goes unpunished.

The same nineteen year old man stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette in his mouth, carelessly tossing the match onto someone’s manicured lawn. He didn’t care – he was there on business. A smile curled on his face as he could plainly see the residents of the street peeking out at him from behind their blinds. He laughed to himself – they thought they were safe, but he could take any and all of them down at any time. He knew at least one of them had already called the cops – but he didn’t care. Cops were only human, they died just as easily as anyone else.

He held his breath and turned quickly as a car approached from behind him, and then exhaled as he realized it was only his ‘customer’. He walked up to the car and leaned in the window. “Got the money?”

The man inside the car bowed his head, giving away his answer as an obvious ‘no’. “Frank, I…”

“Don’t call me that, deadbeat.” Frank lit another cigarette, tossing the burning remains of his old one into the car of his ‘customer’. “You know what I do to deadbeats?”

“Don’t, please…”

With one swift motion, Frank removed a nine millimeter pistol from behind his coat, the light from a nearby street glinting off of it’s steel surface as he brought it level with the head of his ‘customer’, who was now babbling and begging for his life.

Just as he began to squeeze the trigger, a black wing-shaped piece of metal hit his hand, knocking the gun to the ground. “What the–”

He leaned over to grab the gun off the ground only to be hit on the chin by what felt like a very powerful fist, and knocked flat onto the concrete sidewalk. Fear began to fill him as his mind put the ingredients together – he was sure he had finally met the infamous Batman. Frank looked up at his assailant as he leaned on his elbows for leverage. He then realized that it was no man who assaulted him, but a woman – Batgirl.

Frank smiled mischievously as he tried to return to his feet – only Batgirl’s boot immediately pinned his shoulder to the ground painfully.

Batgirl turned around quickly as she heard the doors open on the blue Buick. Three more thugs were exiting the car, each carrying a nine millimeter pistol. Batgirl knew she could easily disarm them all – but with innocent civilians so close by, she couldn’t take the risk of even one stray bullet.

She fired a cable launcher at a nearby apartment building and sped skyward as the launcher retracted it’s cable. If they were going to shoot, she had to keep them firing skyward. She wanted to make sure there were no innocent casualties.

She kneeled down and glared at the four thugs from the top of the apartment building, watching them squint toward her with their guns pointed skyward – they couldn’t see her in the dark. More cowards. They appeared to be everywhere these days. Batgirl waited patiently for the four of them to either split up or cluster together – either way, she would have the advantage.

As soon as the four crashed through the glass front door of the apartment building, Batgirl tensed a little bit – they were on their way up to the roof. But she still had the advantage – the roof was not lighted, and she had the element of surprise. She raced over to the small shack which housed the door between the stairway and the roof, jumping on top of it and crouching down. They’d never think to look there.

Batgirl waited calmly as the door opened and they began to step onto the roof, one by one. She wanted them all out in the open, in her world. That way she would be able to target them swiftly and silently. As soon as the last of the four stepped through the door, she leapt at them feet first. Batgirl knocked them all off of their feet like a row of dominoes collapsing on top of each other.

The first of the four to reach for his gun was met with a fist on the side of his head, the second a boot to the forehead. She was quickly losing patience with their persistence as she snatched the third by the back of his shirt, tossing him as far as her strength allowed.

As Batgirl turned to the other three again, she watched them freeze in wide eyed horror, just before she heard a terrified scream behind her. A quick glance behind her told her what they already knew – the man she quickly tossed out of the way had gone right over the side of the building.

Knowing she had the advantage now, Batgirl smiled at the other three men standing in front of her. She took a step toward them – they took a step back. Feeling more confident, she lunged toward them. As soon as she did, the three raced for the stairway, nearly tripping over each other to get out of her way. They were so frightened, they even left their guns behind. Batgirl carefully picked each of them up, slipping them behind her belt – she wanted to make sure no children found them lying there.

She stepped toward the edge of the roof, looking down toward the street to see the three tearing away in their cars. They didn’t even stop to check on their friend who fell off the roof.

Batgirl glided down to the street as she noticed the man who fell lying on the pavement, one of his hands twitching – he was still alive! As soon as her feet touched the ground, she kneeled down to examine him. He was still breathing, though unconscious. He needed medical help badly – and she couldn’t take him to a hospital herself, it was too dangerous to move him.

She remembered seeing a telephone just inside the window of a ground-floor apartment behind her. She turned quickly, punched through the glass window without a second thought, and threw the telephone handset on the floor. She then dialed nine-one-one. A dead-air call would alert both the police and a rescue unit to show up.

Silence filled the entire neighborhood as it’s residents started to slowly come out to watch Batgirl kneel down silently next to this stranger, holding his hand as distant sirens approached quickly. She wasn’t going to leave him to let him die alone on the cold pavement. To hell with Bruce’s rules.

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“They could have arrested you, Cassandra. They could have discovered your identity.”

Bruce paced the room angrily as Cassandra stood silent with her arms folded, watching him with her eyes. He didn’t understand. He never would.

“Cassandra.” Bruce stepped in front of her, and looked down into the same deep brown eyes which had been following him around the room. “If you’re arrested and discovered, there will be no more Batgirl…Ever. Understand?”

Cassandra frowned and looked at the floor. She closed her eyes for a second as an image appeared in her mind of the man she ‘rescued’, lying on a stretcher, his eyes open. She saw so much sadness and confusion in those eyes, as if he was grateful, but couldn’t understand why Batgirl had come to his rescue.

“What’s wrong?”

As she reopened her eyes, she could see Bruce standing in front of her. She could feel a tear rolling down her cheek slowly. More a tear of frustration then sadness – she wanted so badly for Bruce to understand how she felt, what she saw…It was something that touched her to her soul, made her feel like a real hero. And yet here she was afterward, being made to feel ashamed for her actions.

“Are you okay, Cassandra? Do you feel sick?”

Cassandra shook her head ‘no’ as she turned a defiant gaze up to meet Bruce’s eyes. “I care.”

“You care? About what?” Bruce was a little intrigued now that he got Cassandra to talk to him for the second time today.

“People. My work.” Cassandra sat down on Bruce’s desk and hung her head. She felt a little ashamed to admit her weakness to Bruce, who told her every day that she must remain objective and out of touch with her feelings when taking the role of Batgirl. He always said that emotions cause irrational actions, which could get them both killed. She always knew something was wrong with that – and now, more then ever.

Bruce sighed. “I understand. You’re letting your feelings get involved with your work.”

Cassandra nodded a ‘yes’.

Bruce walked over to Cassandra and lifted her chin to meet her eye-to-eye. “Cassandra, you’re not the same as I am. You work differently. If you work better with your emotions then I do – and you can control them better – then so be it.”

Cassandra looked at Bruce with a little surprise over his sudden change in attitude. Could he no longer be obsessed with making everyone a mirror of himself?

“You do well as Batgirl, Cassandra.” Bruce took a step back as Cassandra slid off the desk, to her feet. “You have the courage to do things I never could do. And while Batman is just feared by everyone…People like Batgirl.”

Cassandra smiled, and turned her head to see that Alfred had just entered the room.

“Dinner is served, Miss Cassandra. Master Bruce.”

After Cassandra raced into the dining room ahead of the other two, Bruce stopped in the doorway. “How did I do, Alfred?”

Alfred smiled. “Excellent, Master Bruce. You gave her my speech almost word for word.”

Bruce laughed and shook his head as he headed toward the dining room. He didn’t let Alfred’s humor diminish his good mood – he was happy to finally understand Cassandra a little better.

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“Record.”

As was traditional for Bruce, he spend almost every evening after dinner recording his thoughts…just in case.

“Cassandra appears to be unable to suppress her emotions as Batgirl, to separate herself from her work. But it’s not as bad as it sounds – her feelings seem to augment her instincts and skills somehow.”

Bruce paused in thought for a moment. Could he have been wrong all along? Could using his own emotions help him now that he has the experience?

“Her methods give her a little unpredictability, however. She may ignore important orders, or jump into a dangerous situation without looking–”

He shuddered for a moment at the thought of what could happen. But then he reminded himself that so far, it hasn’t happened. Cassandra always seemed to be able to take care of herself somehow, in a way even he didn’t fully understand.

“The fact that she’s almost as good as I am at this…and in some ways better…it sometimes makes me start to…rethink my own methods.”

Methods. He had to pause at the sound of that word. It made his work seem almost mechanical, scientific in nature. Cassandra, on the other hand, was more of a natural, her style more chaotic. Bruce sighed before he continued.

“Cassandra is a lot like me, but nothing like me as well. I figured out Dick and Tim very quickly…even Barbara didn’t take this long to figure out. Cassandra’s a mystery to me. And like every good detective…I feel I must solve this mystery–”

Bruce put down his microphone and frowned as he suddenly realized that something was different. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t the only one breathing in the room. Simple deduction told him exactly who it was.

“I know you’re here, Cassandra. Come on out.”

Only silence answered Bruce as he slowly reached for the switch on his desk lamp. He turned it on, filling the room with a pale yellow glow – only Cassandra was gone.

Bruce smiled. “Clever. Very clever.”

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Batgirl stood high atop an apartment building, watching an old blue Buick drive up to the corner slowly. She glanced around the neighborhood quickly, and it made her sad. A formerly quiet neighborhood where kids would be outside playing, where parents would be sitting on porches being eaten alive by mosquitoes – it had been reduced to a neighborhood of fear, where people hid behind locked doors and drawn blinds.

She watched the car come to a stop as her fists clenched in anger. All of the fear surrounded this one coward and his friends. That’s what they were – only cowards prey on the weak for their own entertainment. It takes real strength to protect those within your reach.

Batgirl didn’t even move a muscle as she sensed someone walking up behind her. She knew exactly who it was by the sound of his footsteps, and of the wind tossing his cape – Batman. She was not surprised that he knew where she went, but she wondered why he came to help. She turned to face Batman, her eyes silently asking the question on her mind.

Batman put one hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes you have to follow your feelings. Let’s go, your lead.”

Batgirl smiled as she leapt off of the edge of the building, using her cape to glide gently down to the roof of the blue Buick just as it’s owner climbed out of the driver’s side.

“What the–” The man drew his pistol just in time for his chin and nose to meet Batgirl’s boot. He fell to the sidewalk, his broken nose and scratched up chin bleeding onto the concrete.

“You’re gonna pay for that”, he sputtered as he tried to spit the blood out of his mouth. Just as those words left his mouth, he saw a shadow hanging over him. Before he had a chance to look to see what it was, he felt himself being lifted up abruptly by his shirt collar. He began to shake uncontrollably, as he now realized that he was face to face with his worst fear – Batman.

“I’ll be watching you.” Those were the only words Batman said to the man before slamming his head into the side window of the car, and leaving him to slump to the sidewalk among beads of broken safety glass.

Once the man’s vision focused, he could see that Batman was gone – but Batgirl was still standing over him. The man cringed and held his arm up to try and shield himself from her inevitable assault. A second later, he realized there would be no such assault – she was holding her hand out, offering to help him to his feet.

As soon as she pulled the man up to his feet, she pointed at his car and then down the street. The man reluctantly climbed back into his car and began driving away. Just as she guessed, he was reluctant to try and argue with her in his condition.

Batman stood high atop the apartment building across from where Batgirl stood on the street. He watched the old Buick drive away. He watched people coming out of their homes, as porch lights began slowly filling the streets with light. He watched people shake Batgirl’s gloved hands. They all wanted to meet her, to thank the one who helped to save their neighborhood.

He smiled to himself and shook his head as he turned to head home. “Amazing. Simply amazing.”

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#4 – On The Run

“Some men were here last night, Clark…”

Clark Kent spent hours tossing and turning in his bed as his mom’s voice echoed in his head over and over again. He finally gave up, opting instead to climb out of bed and stare out the window. As a Kryptonian, Clark never really needed as much sleep as he got – he slept mostly out of habit, and because it was so lonely at night with no one else around. He envied Bruce Wayne a little – at least he had something to do at night.

“Clark?” Lois sat up in the bed, squinting to see Clark standing in front of the open window. She sighed. “I knew that phone call was bad news. Spill it.”

“You remember Kara…that teenager Linda named–” Clark turned around and leaned against the windowsill, his head hanging as if it held the weight of the world on top of it. “Someone reported her. The adoption authorities visited Ma and Pa, asking where she came from. They want to take her away from them, Lois. Pa asked them to leave.”

“Oh, Clark.” Lois hugged him tightly. He returned the hug as best as he could without crushing her.

“It’s not fair, Lois.” Clark closed his eyes and sighed deeply, emotion weighing heavily in the sound of his breath. “Every day, I see reports of abusive parents, kids who are neglected. Ma and Pa are model parents…and the authorities want to take Kara away from them.”

Lois shook her head slowly as she stood next to Clark, staring out the window toward the city. “I wish I had some answers for you, Smallville. I wish I did.”

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“Linda? Isn’t it a little chilly up here?” Charlie walked up behind Linda as she stood high atop the hotel’s roof, braving a stiff, icy early evening wind. He tossed a jacket over her shoulders.

“I was just thinking.” Linda sighed as she squinted toward the sun on the horizon. “Thinking about how little world of ours seems so small all of a sudden. And about how helpless I was on Otherverse Earth.”

“Everything turned out well, didn’t it?”

“It’s not that.” Linda walked over to the edge of the roof to look over the edge, to watch the cars driving by far below. “I used to be invaluable to them…unique. But this last time I was just kind of…there.”

“That’s what I do most of the time. I’m just sort of…there.” Charlie smiled as he watched Linda turn around to face him slowly. “But I’m happy just to be there, Linda. I know that you enjoy having me along.”

Linda laughed a little over the irony of what Charlie had just said. She had gone from a leader of sorts to more of a support role…but then again, Charlie was an excellent leader in his own right – even with no special talents at all.

“Let’s go inside where it’s warmer.” Charlie placed his left hand on Linda’s shoulder and led her toward the stairway. “I’ve always wanted to be a hero, Linda…but it has always seemed a goal unattainable by someone like me. Your current situation sort of…gives me hope.”

“I’m glad it gives someone hope.” Linda sighed as she opened her hotel room door. “For me it’s just…depressing.”

“They didn’t send you home, did they?”

Linda shook her head as she sat down in a chair next to the kitchenette, while Charlie dug through the refrigerator. “But I didn’t do much to help them, either.”

“Ah.” Charlie leaned against the kitchenette counter, waving a piece of French bread at Linda. She didn’t remember buying it, but she decided to reserve that question for later. “So it’s not the fact that you couldn’t help that bothers you. It’s the fact that you didn’t.”

“I–” Linda suddenly found herself speechless as she watched Charlie smile and begin piling cold cuts – which she also didn’t remember buying – into the French bread.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Charlie leaned against the counter behind him and nodded as he took a bite out of the huge sandwich he had just created. He then reached back into the small refrigerator to remove a canned soft drink.

“Charlie…where did all of this food come from, anyway?”

“Oh.” Charlie laughed and opened the refrigerator wide to show Linda that it was stuffed full of food. “I picked up a few things while you were…out of town.”

Linda folded her arms. “And why didn’t you put them in your own refrigerator?”

“I did. These are things that wouldn’t fit in mine.”

“Oookay.” Linda slouched in her chair and rolled her eyes. She wisely decided not to ask any more questions about the food.

“Listen, Linda.” Charlie walked out of the kitchenette, and sat in another chair across from Linda. “Batman has been to places we can only imagine, right alongside Superman. But he’s no Superman…he’s just like me, only with more toys and better training. You, on the other hand–”

“I think I get the point, Charlie.” Linda stared at Charlie’s sandwich as he continued eating. “It’s just not easy going from being a big fish in Otherverse to a nobody–”

“Are you hungry, Linda? You keep staring at my sandwich.”

Linda laughed. “I guess I forgot to eat dinner. It does look good.”

“Let me make you one.” Charlie stood up and headed toward the kitchenette before Linda had time to do little more then open her mouth to protest. “And you’re weren’t a nobody in Otherverse, or they would have sent you home. The fact that they didn’t shows that they trusted in your abilities.”

“Even Sharon Holmes helped more then I did.” Linda leaned back in her chair again and sighed. “I should be more like her.”

“Funny thing, Linda–” Charlie handed her a sandwich on a plate and a soft drink can. “I think Sharon…is a lot like you.”
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“Do you think we should call Clark? Or Linda?” Martha Kent wrung her hands nervously as she stood on the sidewalk, her eyes looking up to the roof of the house. Sitting on the roof was the teen-aged Kara. She overheard Jonathan’s conversation with the Sheriff moments earlier – and learned that the Kents were in danger of going to jail over her. She had been sitting on the roof, head hanging, since then.

Jonathan shook his head slowly. “No, not yet. Let her work this out. She’s been through a lot.”

“This makes me sick, Jonathan. Just sick.” Martha took a deep breath to calm herself. “You’re right. She has been through a lot. And yet, these…state folks want to put her through more! They want to take her away, send her to another strange place.”

Jonathan stared into Martha’s eyes for several seconds before smiling softly. “We’ll do what we can, Martha. We’ll give her a home as long as we’re able. Then…she’s in God’s hands.”

Kara stared down from the roof as she watched Martha rest her head on Jonathan’s shoulder and begin sobbing. They were like parents to her, the only ones she could remember. They cared for her, gave her food and love…and all she brought them was pain and suffering. She was smart enough to know that sooner or later, the state would win. Authorities would come in the middle of the night to take her away.

She stood up as she thought about…Clark. He was so much more powerful then Jonathan, Martha…probably the entire town combined. Kara knew that she could fly – she found that out by accident. But could she…do more?

As Martha and Jonathan entered the house, Kara decided to test her theory. She dropped to the ground quickly, and began looking around. Her target became obvious – the car parked in the driveway. She reached under the driver’s side of the car with both hands, and took a deep breath – and before she knew it, she had lifted the entire car over her head, effortlessly. Unfortunately, she had to lower it quickly – since the car was still much larger then herself, it was too difficult to maintain balance.

Kara took a couple of steps back and began breathing faster as she stared at the car. She nearly lifted it over her head! And without even damaging it! “I must tell Ma and Pa–”

She raced in through the front door, and hugged Martha and Jonathan tightly as they stood in the kitchen. She was talking fast, almost too fast for the two of them to understand, as she explained her feat of lifting the car. She hypothesized that perhaps she was as strong as Clark. But the last sentence from her mouth was the one which concerned the Kents most – “They can never take me away now.”

As Kara left the room, Martha stared at Jonathan with a serious, worried expression. Jonathan sighed. He knew what she was thinking – the same thing he was. “It’s time to call Clark.”
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“Hey, Linda…I have a paying gig–” Charlie had left quickly to ‘run an errand’ for a short time after feeding Linda a sandwich – an errand which he knew would surprise her when he returned. He froze as soon as he entered Linda’s kitchen, holding an envelope. Buzz was sitting at her kitchen table, slowly drinking a root beer. “Uh…Linda?”

“She’s in the loo.” Buzz answered without bothering to look behind him at the doorway to the dining room. Unfortunately, Linda was standing there – and she promptly swatted the back of his head.

“He was fired this morning…again.” Linda led Charlie into the living room and sat down on the couch. “That’s three jobs so far. He just can’t learn to keep his mouth shut and stay out of trouble.”

“What kind of jobs?” Charlie tossed the folder he was holding in his hand onto the coffee table and sat down next to Linda.

“First job, at one of those mailbox and packing places. He wraps a rambunctious five year old boy in a cardboard box, and labels it ‘Abu Dhabi’.”

Charlie’s attempt at stifling his laughter was failing miserably, earning him a quick frown from Linda. “That is sort of funny.”

“I guess it is…kind of. But the poor kid ended up in the back of a delivery truck before they realized what happened.”

Charlie laughed out loud this time, struggling to calm himself down so he could hear the rest. “What was the second job?”

“He tried working in an office store warehouse. Only he felt that staging accidents was more fun then doing work. He called them ‘practical jokes’.”

“No…That’s not really funny.” Charlie shook his head. “Sometimes Buzz has a sense of humor, but then he just goes too far.”

“Wait till you hear the third one.” Linda smiled and leaned back as she reached for a small piece of paper on the side table and handed it to Charlie. “Lexcorp tour guide. He called Lex Luthor ‘Uncle Fester’ on the first day. This letter says that–”

“He’s not allowed to set foot on Lexcorp property.” Charlie chuckled a little as he stared at the letter. “I would have given anything to see Lex Luthor’s face. What’s he doing here, anyway?”

“Looking for food. Same as you always do.” Linda reached toward the folder sitting on the coffee table. “So…what’s this?”

Charlie smiled. “A little something from Lex Luthor’s office. It details his plans to sell advanced weapons to that other Earth you visited. He wants to profit from the constant war zone.”

“He wouldn’t.” Linda shook her head slowly. “He…can’t. They’d annihilate each other.”

“That’s why Luthor’s planning to sell to both sides.” Charlie slipped a single piece of paper out of the folder and handed it to Linda. “He wants the balance of power to stay equal, but for both sides to start building their armament…which would–”

“Make him a lot of money, I know.” Linda sighed loudly and stood up to begin pacing the room. “But how is this…investigation a paying job?”

“Luthor has a habit of leaving skeletons in his closet.” Charlie stood up to intercept Linda in the middle of the living room and hand her another piece of paper. “This skeleton is named Tatsuo Takamura. Ring a bell?”

Linda nodded and smiled as she began reading the letter Charlie handed her. “The Pocket Protector guy. Luthor put him in a wheelchair.”

“And he wants revenge. He wants to finally discredit Luthor.” Charlie took back the pieces of paper and stuffed them back into the envelope. “He offered us money to find the evidence for him.”

“Okay…But I’d like to offer a suggestion.” Linda reached behind her to snatch a newspaper’s classified ads left on the couch, handing it to Charlie quickly. “Can we get an office, so Luthor’s henchmen don’t blow up this nice hotel to scare us?”

“Good idea…But we would have no one to take phone–”

Charlie suddenly paused as an idea dawned on him, about the same time as it dawned on Linda. They both turned to face the kitchen doorway, where Buzz sat at the table munching on pretzels. They kept staring until Buzz turned around to look at them.

“What?”
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“What do you think we should do, Clark?”

“I…don’t know.” Clark sighed and slowly sat down at the kitchen table. “She seems to be maturing…and learning…faster then I anticipated. But she doesn’t seem too dangerous–”

“Until she tries to defend us, Clark.” Jonathan stood up and began pacing around the room slowly. “Then people could be hurt. Even if she simply resists them. And Martha and I could be–”

“I know, Pa. I know.” Clark sighed and looked down at the table as his fingers began unconsciously playing with the salt shaker. “Did you…talk to her?”

Jonathan nodded. “I did. Martha did as well. But she’s determined to help. She means well, Clark…but sometimes, even the most well-meaning gestures–”

“Pa, I think it’s time I took her to Metropolis. It’ll be tough on Lois and I, but I think she’ll learn a lot.” Clark stood up and held out his hand to stop Jonathan as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. “And I don’t even have to ask Lois…it was her idea. She said she wished she could help more. She has no idea how much she has.”

Clark and Jonathan stared at each other for a few seconds as they stared at each other, their faces dropping from the weight of the moment. As Clark gripped his Pa’s fragile hand, a realization came over him – his Ma and Pa, always law abiding citizens, were willing to risk jail to protect a young stranger. They were the parents he grew up with…always on the side of right. And to this day, he was a better person for it.

The handshake slowed, quickly changing to a hug as another realization took hold – the realization that the world wasn’t at all appreciative of people who had such a strong sense of what’s right. That, specifically in this case…the right had become a wrong. And that in itself, Clark noted, was a tragedy.
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“You could do better in a bloody rubbish heap.” Buzz kicked an empty plastic pencil canister lying on the floor of an empty office as he entered ahead of Linda and Charlie. The office seemed smaller then the ad depicted, and needed some cleaning.

“Buzz…you have no imagination whatsoever.” Linda shook her head as she peeked into each of the two small rooms off of the main one. The third-floor office consisted of three rooms – a larger room next to the entrance, and two smaller rooms side by side to the rear. Each one of the rooms had a single window, and a small closet was on one wall of the largest room. “I…think I can work with this.”

“I hope so.” Charlie snapped a tape measure off of his belt and started measuring the rooms quickly. “Because it’s the only office we can afford that actually features a lift in the building.”

Linda stood and watched as Charlie measured the length, then the width, and height of each room. He noted them on a piece of paper, and even noted the location and size of the windows. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“I need a floor plan, so I can order furniture.”

Buzz sat down on the floor and leaned against the outside wall, below the window. “As long as you’re ordering it. I’ve seen Linda’s furniture–”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence!” Linda pointed a finger at Buzz angrily as she watched a grin form on his face. She knew he said that on purpose just to upset her.

Linda turned as she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the left-open door of the office. She headed toward the door just in time to see Clark Kent – and with him was a shorter, blond teenager…the one Linda remembered calling ‘Kara’.

“What’s going on, Clark? I thought she was supposed to be in Smallville?” Linda watched Clark’s expression change to a frown as the words left her mouth. And his eyes…they were holding back pain and sadness. “What’s wrong?”

Clark motioned for Linda to follow him as he stepped into one of the two rear rooms of the office, leaving Kara in the care of Charlie and Buzz. He closed the door behind him quietly, pausing for a few seconds as if to emphasize the importance of what he was about to say. “Linda…the state adoption authorities found out about Kara. They visited Ma and Pa–”

“Oh my God–” Linda bit her lip and turned to look out the window. Her heart was beating quickly – what would they do with Kara? They couldn’t keep her in Smallville, and Linda knew she was ill-prepared to look after a teenager. “What are you going to do?”

“I–” Clark hung his head as the guilt of what he had done began to weigh on him heavily. He remembered his short phone call to Bruce Wayne, the discussion about certain ‘paperwork’. He remembered Bruce’s voice at the other end, reassuring him that everything would be ‘taken care of’. But it was little reassurance to Clark – Superman, the one person who taught respect for the law and justice, had to break those very laws to save one teenager. “I talked to Bruce. He’s going to…help.”

“Clark–” Linda stood for several seconds, watching Clark hang his head in shame at the sound of his own words. A smile began to creep onto her face – through and through, Clark was still a simple farm boy, expecting to be punished for associating with ‘the bad kid’ – Bruce. She walked closer to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder gently. “You did the right thing. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Clark sighed loudly. “Pa and Lois told me the same thing…but I just feel so guilty.”

“You were adopted too, Clark. Wouldn’t you have wanted your Ma and Pa to do the same for you? You didn’t do this for yourself, you did it for Kara, for your Ma and Pa…even Lois. You’ve put yourself at risk to help someone else. It’s what you do best, Clark. There’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

Clark nodded slowly and smiled at Linda. “You really should consider motivational speaking, Linda.”

Linda laughed as her eyes watched the door behind Clark open slowly. A head peeked around the corner slowly – it was Kara. “Is Buzz bothering you?”

“Not anymore.” Kara smiled mischievously as Linda quickly followed her into the entry room of the office, wondering exactly what she had done to Buzz.

Buzz was sitting on the floor, wrapped in scotch tape from his stomach up to his neck. He looked like some sort a transparent mummy. Linda couldn’t help but laugh as she saw him sitting there with a frown on his face.

“Looks like Kara missed her ‘mummy’.” Charlie folded his arms and smiled at his own joke as Linda, Kara, and even Clark began laughing out loud.

“Could you hyenas let me out of this?” Buzz squirmed as Linda began unwrapping him slowly, trying to suppress her urge to laugh at him some more.

“No…Let me.” Kara stepped toward Buzz, as her eyes began to glow red-orange. A look of dread appeared on Buzz’ face briefly before a thin line suddenly melted across the strips of tape, releasing him. She giggled a little bit at Buzz’ display of fear as Linda helped him to his feet.

Clark grabbed Kara’s arm and turned her around quickly. “Kara, you shouldn’t–”

“I like her already.” Charlie interrupted Clark, handing Kara the tape measure as he paused to write down more measurements on his piece of paper. “Did anyone give her a last name yet? We can’t just have everyone call her ‘Kara’. She’s not really famous enough not to have a last name.”

“Kent. In honor of Ma and Pa taking her in, and everything they went through for it.” Clark looked around the room. He spoke impulsively from his heart, unsure if anyone else would agree – but as he looked from one person to the next, he saw nods from everyone…except Buzz. Clark turned to Kara and looked down at her. “Kara Kent. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds a little like ‘Lois Lane’…but it’s all good.” Kara smiled as Clark turned to Linda and frowned at her briefly. Linda just shrugged – just about confirming to him that she was responsible for teaching Kara a few things.

“What do you think of the office, Kara?” Charlie reached his hand out as Kara handed him his tape measure back. He looked over at Clark, who had already started to roll his eyes in anticipation of more slang – he knew very well that Charlie was prompting it on purpose.

“I like it. It’s cool.”
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“Send him in.”

Lex Luthor leaned back in his desk chair, eagerly anticipating the entrance of a man who had once sworn revenge against him. But like all great businessmen, he had accepted Luthor as his superior and decided to move past any petty need for revenge. The door slid open as the man rolled into the room in a wheelchair – it was Tatsao Takamura.

“Have a seat, Mr. Takamura.” Luthor smiled, well aware that his humor was in bad taste – but it also served as a reminder to Takamura what happened the last time he crossed Luthor’s path. “Our little…joint venture is working nicely, isn’t it?”

Takamura sighed. “I just wish we had taken away her sense of self determination. To this moment, we still can’t find her.”

“Nonsense. That’s part of her charm.” Luthor stood up and stepped over to his office window, looking high above the sparkling city of Metropolis. “In time we will find her. When we do, we will simply…remind her that her body is my property.”

“Our property.”

“Hm.” Luthor walked back to his desk and sat down in the chair, leaning back once again. “I assume hers is the only body your researchers produced?”

Takamura nodded. “Essence projects are expensive, Mr. Luthor. We only develop it when we have a donor to work with. Brains don’t grow on trees, you know.”

“Very good.” Luthor rotated his chair to stare outside through the window again. “See yourself out, Mr. Takamura. We’ll meet again at the usual time.”

Takamura paused for several seconds before sighing and rolling his wheelchair toward the door. The sigh was meant for Luthor to hear, an expression of his displeasure at Luthor treating him, a peer in the business world, like yet another employee or servant. But the painful truth, he realized as he left Luthor’s office, was that Luthor simply didn’t care.
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“Ever heard of a bloody taxi?” Buzz grumbled to himself as he followed Clark, Linda, Charlie, and the teenage Kara along the sidewalk to the Daily Planet. None of them realized that Clark and Kara had walked the distance between his workplace and Linda and Charlie’s new office – they assumed he had driven or taken a cab.

“Walking is refreshing. Helps work out stress.” Clark smiled as he turned to see Buzz’ reaction – but Buzz wasn’t looking at him, he stopped to look at a storefront.

Charlie stopped to see where Buzz was staring. It was a small comic book store with a ‘help wanted’ sign in the window. “A comic shop? You can’t be serious.”

“No…it’s a great idea.” Linda leaned against the window to get a look through the window. “I mean, where else can Buzz be as rude as he wants without getting fired–”

“Linda?” Clark froze suddenly as his peripheral vision caught Linda and Buzz turn and head into the comic store. He followed quickly as Kara and Charlie waited outside. “Linda, why are we stopping here?”

Without a word, Linda pointed to a blonde woman in a super-hero costume and cape sitting behind a table. Her eyes were a glasslike color, her costume was mostly black with a white diamond shape across the chest and white stripes along the arms, legs, and boots. Linda had entered the store after seeing the woman through the front window – she remembered her from her visit to Otherverse Earth. It was Lara Night…in Metropolis?

As Linda approached the table slowly, watching a line of people standing in front of it, she began to realize that she can’t simply start talking to Lara. If Lara was famous somehow, she wouldn’t be able to explain how she knew her. Luckily, the problem seemed to solve itself.

“Linda!” Lara smiled as her strange, transparent-looking eyes turned toward Linda. She raised her hand and waved Linda over to the table as she pulled a nearby chair closer. Linda reluctantly accepted the offer, eyeing the crowd waiting on the other side of the table as she sat down.

“Uh…you’re here on business?”

Lara laughed. “You always wondered what I do with my civilian life, didn’t you? Well…sometimes I make personal appearances, sign autographs.”

“And…people know you?”

“Usually, no.” Lara shook her head and smiled. “But when these guys see a woman signing autographs in a super-hero costume…they tend not to ask too many questions.”

“Who’re you supposed to be? Batgirl?” One of the store customers, a slightly nervous-looking man holding a stack of comics, leaned over the table to take a closer look at Linda.

Linda stared angrily at the man, trying to stifle a laugh. “Uh…no. Not even close.”

“Wonder Girl? Troia? No, wait…don’t tell me…Black Canary!”

Lara laughed as Linda rolled her eyes and turned away from the man. “What is the matter with these people?”

“Give them a break, Linda.” Lara shrugged as she took one of the man’s comics and signed it quickly. “Some of these people think comic books are their life. For a few them, the lines between reality and fiction have blurred to the point where they don’t know who’s real and who’s not. But as long as it gives them happiness–”

“I understand.” Linda nodded. “You enjoy making people happy.”

“Exactly.” Lara stared at the nervous man as he continued to stand over the table, as if he were waiting for something else. “Yes?”

The man stood wringing his hands nervously for a few seconds, squinting as if his mind were searching for the right words, or maybe some courage. “If you really want to make me happy…how about dinner?”

“Sorry.” Lara tried her best to keep a straight face as she answered. But Linda was far less controlled – she began laughing out loud. “It wouldn’t be fair to the other customers.”

The man seemed genuinely hurt as he sighed and turned away from the table, shuffling slowly toward the cash register. Linda watched as he placed his comics on the counter and removed his wallet, glancing back at her and Lara sadly as he removed a credit card.

Linda began to feel sorry for the guy. She put herself in his place for a moment – she remembered all of the times she had been laughed at by the citizens of Metropolis when she first appeared as Supergirl in her new costume. Her own spirit wouldn’t die…and yet she so readily crushed someone else’s.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Lara smiled knowingly as she watched Linda’s expression become serious. For a change, she didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand Linda’s thoughts – her sudden look of guilt and nervous shifting gave it away. “Go ahead. Make his day.”

A breeze blew through the comic store, ruffling a few of the magazine displays – an event which was slightly unusual, but went virtually unnoticed by the crowd, interested only in purchasing comics and talking to Lara. A breeze that, if anyone would have paid attention, was a subtle announcement of a visitor from their wildest dreams come alive.

The man buying comics at the counter turned around briefly as he felt the sudden gust of wind move past him – he was curious to be sure, but completely unaware of who he was about to meet. As a dream of his suddenly took form before him, he let his wallet slip through his fingers to the floor. “My God. S-Supergirl. Wow.”

“I pronounce it with only one ‘S’, but that’s close enough.” Linda smiled a little as she watched the man’s eyes move along her white tee-shirt and blue skirt toward her red boots, then back to her face. It made her feel a little nervous about her new costume every time somebody did that. “And your name is?”

“Kevin.” The man began fidgeting nervously as he completely ignored the cashier trying to hand him back his credit card. His smile was a mixture of elation and confusion – he was happy, but still unsure if he was dreaming. “I’m…uh…in town for a convention.”

“Pleased to meet you, Kevin.” Linda gripped his hand quickly with her gloved hand and shook it, careful to demonstrate her strength to him without hurting him. “Would you like me to sign something for…?”

Before Linda could finish her sentence, the man produced a black permanent marker from his pocket and handed it to her with one of the comics he had just bought. She took the book and paused looked at it before signing, noting the nervous look from Kevin as she did. She too was a little shocked at what she saw – and yet somehow, she expected it.

“Cute.” Linda signed quickly, flashing Kevin another smile before handing the book back to him. “Just don’t believe everything you read.”

“Thank you so much. You have no idea how big a fan I am.” Kevin shook Linda’s hand again before picking up his comics and wallet, and raced out of the store. Linda waved as he left, guessing that he was in a hurry to tell his friends what happened to him that day.

“Did you see the book he handed me?”

Lara began nodding before Linda even finished her sentence. “What did you expect?”

Linda turned around as she felt a tap on her shoulder – it was Buzz. “Let me guess…this place is giving you the creeps, and you want to leave?”

Buzz shook his head no. “They’ve hired me. I start tomorrow.”

“What? How?”

“You, luv.” Buzz smiled and walked past Linda toward the door. “I told them that I know you.”

Linda rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. That’ll be great for my reputation.”
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“She’s been sighted in Smallville, Mr. Luthor, but we haven’t seen her since. As far as we can tell…she just vanished.”

“This is inexcusable, Mercy.” Luthor stood up from his desk chair calmly – almost too calmly – and stepped over to the window of his office. Mercy immediately recognized that as a sign of Luthor’s hidden anger. “How could you simply allow her to vanish?”

Mercy simply bowed her head sadly in response. She knew that any answer she could give Luthor would just sound like an excuse to him. He was never willing to listen – he gave orders, made other people’s fates. He never accepted it when fate touched him in turn.

“So far…we know that Power Girl rescued the girl in Metropolis. She abruptly left the hospital, and we were unable to track her until she turned up…in Smallville Kansas?”

After taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Mercy finally decided to volunteer a little information. “I know it seems strange, Lex. But there has to be a reason. There has to be–”

“A connection. Yes, I know. But what is it? Where was she sighted in Smallville?”

“She was spotted by a neighbor of–” Mercy gasped as she suddenly made a connection. “Oh my God. The Kents! That means…Clark Kent?”

“No.” Luthor shook his head and paced around his office slowly. “He’s not cunning enough. But his wife, on the other hand…”

“Lois Lane. Of course.” Mercy clenched her fists, causing the leather gloves she wore to creak a little. “Want me to…have a little chat with her?”

“That won’t be necessary. She’s a reporter, spilling information is in her nature.” Luthor turned away from the window and leaned over his desk, a confident smile on his face. He looked like a man who had just solved the mysteries of the universe in his mind. “We’re wasting our time searching for the girl. We need her to come to us.”

“And how do we do that, Lex?”

Luthor removed a large wad of cash from his desk drawer, tossing it at Mercy almost carelessly. “Visit the Kents. See that they tell you everything they know.”

With those words, Luthor sat down at his desk and began working as usual – his way of signalling that the conversation had come to an end. Mercy looked down at the wad of cash in her hands. Visit the Kents? She began to worry about just how far she was supposed to go in obtaining information from them.

As she turned to leave the office, she closed her eyes for a second, remembering the red folder she once handed to Charlie – a little insurance. Those words sent a chill down her spine as a thought occurred to her…she may actually need it.

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#9 – Tower Of Gotham

“What have we done, Renee?”

Commissioner Gordon sighed loudly as he stared out his office window at a group of officers leaving the station. The Gotham City police force had changed so much, so fast. His brothers and sisters were now more like storm troopers, forced to walk the streets of Metropolis on foot, wearing heavy armor – all in the name of safety and security.

But it was the citizens he worried about. The police had become an intimidating presence on the streets. And the curfew wasn’t helping to improve their image, either. He turned and stared at the pile of paperwork on his desk, wishing it would all just vanish. He wasn’t in the mood for it at the moment. “This proud city of Gotham…my city…has survived earthquakes, crime waves, supervillains–”

“At least we won’t have that problem anymore, Jim.” Renee Montoya had a hint of contempt in her voice, bordering on sarcasm – not for Gordon, but for the new situation she and the other officers had been forced into. In fact, as she spoke to Gordon, she stood before him wearing now-required black-colored Kevlar body armor.

“The price is too high, Renee. Much too high.” Gordon shook his head sadly as he reached down to his belt, carefully removing his badge and gun. He handed them both to Renee carefully. He looked straight into Renee’s eyes – she saw a seriousness and dedication in them which told her that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“What are you…?”

Gordon held up a hand to stop her. “Innocent citizens’ rights are being violated. Dammit, Renee, we’re their protectors. We’re their role models for justice, for fighting for what’s right. People look to us even more then the super-heroes out there. We have a responsibility…no, a requirement…to put a stop to this. We have to make them feel safe with us again, not frightened of us.”

“You’ll need this.” Renee sighed, looking behind her at the doorway quickly before handing Gordon back his gun. She quickly removed her body armor and tossed it aside and took a deep breath before removing her badge as well. She took a long look at it’s shiny metal surface before tossing it onto Gordon’s desk. “I’m with you. Just say the word, and a lot of the others will be too–”

“Renee, no. I can’t ask you to–”

“I want to. I’ve been crying every night since this started, Jim. I walk around the station and see empty, pained looks from the other officers. The job they once took pride in…to help people…has become a burden to them. Morale is just…gone.”

Gordon bit his lip and nodded. Renee was right, and even he knew that no amount of arguing would convince her otherwise – she was always as stubborn as he was. Gordon took one last look at his and Renee’s badges sitting on his desk. “Tell them that I’m walking. If any of the guys join me, I cannot protect them from retribution. Tell them that…I’m doing what I believe is right.”

As he opened his office door and stepped into the next room, silence fell over it’s occupants. All typing stopped, phone conversations came to an abrupt halt. Everyone was staring at Gordon. At that moment, he realized that somehow, word had gotten out of how upset he was with the city’s situation, and the sudden absence of his badge confirmed that the rumors were true, without a doubt. He knew his officers – by now they had betting pools closing, and a few of them were calling home to hear the comforting voice of a loved one. They knew he was going to walk.

Gordon took a deep breath before crossing through the squad room, with Renee close behind. Not a word was spoken by anyone as they passed through, on their way to the main entrance. He paused for just a second before passing through the door – there was no turning back now. His intentions were clear now…he had to follow through.

He stepped outside into the darkness and turned to face the police station just as Renee walked outside as well. Renee stopped to look at him for a second, and sighed. She knew how painful the decision he just made was. He was essentially abandoning his children – that’s how he felt about the police officers he was responsible for, as well as their families.

As they stood and stared at the police station, it’s door opened again. Once officer stepped out, his badge and gun missing. He didn’t say a word as he stepped outside and walked behind Gordon, nodding as he passed. Then another…and another, with the same silence, the same nod. It was an act of open rebellion by Gotham City’s Finest – in a matter of minutes, every officer in the department stood outside the building, in the street.

Gordon stood for a few seconds, stunned, before saying anything. “I can’t ask you do do this. Please…go back to work, all of you. Think of your families.”

“We do, sir.” One officer stepped forward and shook Gordon’s hand. “We think our kids growing up in a world like this…a world where they learn to be afraid all the time. I…don’t want that for them.”

“Me neither”, another officer volunteered.

The streets became filled with voices as officers began to raise their voices in agreement. With a single act by Jim Gordon, it was decided – the Gotham Police Department would strike…for freedom.

As the sounds in the street died down to a few scattered footsteps, Gordon looked up at the roof of a building across the street from the station. He knew he was being watched…but not by Batman.

“My God…what have I done?” Gordon didn’t expect an answer to his question – it was more a question for himself then for anyone else. He was surprised when he saw a dark form atop the building stand up, and spread out a cape. He recognized the form as Batgirl as she leapt off the building and sailed down to the street, using her cape as a parachute.

He froze as she approached him slowly and removed two items from her belt – one in her left hand, the other in her right. She pressed the item from her right hand into his palm quickly, and smiled softly before raising her left hand to launch a cable to the top of the police station. He watched as she zipped straight up the side of the building to the roof…and disappeared.

Gordon looked carefully at the device she pressed into his hand – it was some sort of bat-shaped transmitter. He smiled as he understood what she was trying to do. She was offering to protect the city for him during his absence. He laughed a little to himself and turned to face the roof of the police station.

“Just be careful out there…Batgirl.”

 

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“Hmm.” Batman stood over the spot where hours earlier a crowd of police officers and detectives stood, scratching their heads. Gotham City’s Finest had been baffled by the brutal murder of one of their own – Captain Jerald Hall. Batman was willing to look for clues that they might have missed…such as an innocent-looking playing card he found on the sidewalk.

It was no ordinary card – it was made of a heavily laminated and varnished paper, it’s edges sharpened into razor-like blade. He turned the card he held in his hand around to look at the other side – it was a joker card. Batman looked around the street, noticing the crime scene tape still around the front of a small, dilapidated brick building. A quick examination of the scene told him that the man who’s blood still stained the sidewalk in front of that building had been running…from something.

Batman turned his sights on the building itself as he deftly flipped over the crime scene tape, careful not to disturb it. He raced up the steps and through the front door, looking around the entryway carefully. He found just what he expected – more sharpened playing cards wedged into the doorframe.

“We need to turn this place inside out for clues.” Batman didn’t even bother to turn around as Batgirl approached him silently from behind – and yet, somehow he knew exactly who had snuck up on him. Batgirl made a mental note to herself to ask him how he always managed to do that – but as Batman turned around, she knew her question had already been anticipated. “It’s your shampoo. I recognize the smell.”

Batgirl nodded and headed upstairs, leaving the ground floor for Batman to search. She crept along silently, pausing whenever the old wood floor beneath her began to creak. She froze suddenly as she hit the top of the steps – she spotted a wood saw lying on the floor about the same time she heard a cracking wood sound coming from all around her. It was a trap of some sort. Before she had time to jump backward, a small circle fell through the floor with her standing on it, sending her crashing down to the floor below.

She could have kicked herself – she fell for a trap well overused on Saturday morning cartoons. She had to remind herself once again that the building was one of many of Joker’s hideouts, and was bound to have traps that completely defied all logic and reason.

As she sat up, she frowned when she saw Batman leaning over her. His cold eyes told her what he could have said out loud – ‘you should know better’. As long as Batman was in costume, he carried with him an unwavering air of superiority.

More caution this time allowed Batgirl to climb the stairs once again and avoid the second trap – a flamethrower attached to a trip wire. Yet another Saturday morning cartoon device. That’s where she found her first clue – a newspaper open to the rental ads. She knew better then to just reach for it, as she had no doubt that it too was a trap. Instead, she unwound part of one of her cable launchers and threw the hook at the newspaper, using it to drag the paper over to her. She was glad she did as she watched a large steel guillotine blade slide down between two wooden poles in the room, severing her cable in half.

Now that it was closer, she snatched the newspaper and read an ad that was circled in purple marker ink – ‘Apartment available, furnished. Gotham Tower’. As she read, she felt a slight breeze behind her but no sound. She knew it was Batman. It gave her chills – which helped her understand yet another one of his intimidation tactics.

“Good work.” Batman took the newspaper from her hands and headed back down the stairway quickly, expecting her to follow. She ran to catch up to him, until he stepped outside. He turned to face her before climbing into the Batmobile.

“Gotham Tower?”

Batman nodded in response to Batgirl’s question as he started up the Batmobile. “You’re going in alone. You are to gather clues only, and remain undetected. Do you understand?”

Batgirl nodded. She didn’t know why Batman wanted her to go in alone, or why she was to maintain stealth. But something rare that she heard in Batman’s voice made her accept every word he said without question – she heard fear.

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“I want that rent, Mr. Smith! Open the door now! I’m getting the super–” A man in a cheap-looking suit pounded on the door of the penthouse apartment at Gotham Towers. He heard crashing noises from inside, causing him to cringe as his imagination tried to make up for what he couldn’t see.

“Here ya go, Mr. Stevens.” The building super, a short, fat, older man smoking a cigar, handed the man in the cheap suit a large ring weighted down by dozens of keys. “It’s the red one.”

Stevens could have sworn he heard laughing from the other side of the door as he tried to unlock it with the key – it fit just fine, but the lock appeared stuck. “Bob?”

“Hmm…looks like it’s been welded or somethin’.” The super looked closely at the lock with a flashlight. “Yup. It’s welded. I’m gonna have ta get a crowbar–”

The two men paused to watch a small package being pushed through the mail slot, backwards. It was ticking loudly.

“Bob?” Stevens started backing away slowly.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Run!”

As the two men raced down the stairway, the package continued ticking for another minute before it went off…filling the hallways with the scent of skunk. The neighbors on the lower floors noticed the smell almost immediately, several of them calling the fire department. They all evacuated the building in a matter of minutes.

It would be hours later, after the building had been ventilated and declared safe by the fire department, that the fire investigator managed to gain entry to the penthouse apartment to investigate what had happened. Stevens was almost in tears when he saw that the apartment had been stripped to it’s bare walls. There was one item found in the entire apartment – a small plastic toy clown.

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Batgirl held a small plastic clown in the palm of her hand as she headed up the stairway into Gotham towers at around three a.m. She shrugged and tossed it aside. From what she read in the police report, the investigators probably discarded the plastic toy as they left the building. And yet–

She turned around quickly and picked up the small plastic clown, then removed a small knife blade from her belt. She sliced the titanium steel blade through the plastic easily, splitting the toy in half – and just as she expected, there was something inside. It was a note, with a key attached to it. The note said simply, ‘The key to my city’.

Almost silently, she headed inside the building, making short work of picking the entrance lock. She began to slink along the darkened hallway, headed toward the stairs, and eventually the penthouse. Most of the building was in disrepair – evidence of water leaks traced the walls, and the lighting in the hallway was barely adequate to see. The people who lived in the building were fairly poor, people who relied on government and private assistance just to make ends meet. But they were mostly working poor, people who constantly struggled for a better life.

Suddenly, she found herself bathed in light as Apartment 1A opened without warning as she passed its door. Her heart began beating quickly, her first instinct was to run. But as she spotted a heavy-set man with a heavy smell of alcohol on his breath standing unsteadily in the doorway holding a beer, her fear diminished. He was so drunk, he would never even remember seeing her.

“Batgirl, eh?” The man stumbled into the hallway, almost spilling his beer as he took each step. “About time ya did something about…those people. Ya know what I’m talkin’ about, right? They hide in the dark, thinkin’ you can’t see ’em.”

Batgirl shook her head slowly and began walking away from the man. She knew exactly what he meant – but the last thing she needed were more racists to deal with. She left him behind in her mind as she turned to head toward the stairs, and forever leave him to his sorry existence.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!”

That’s when he made a big mistake. He reached out and grabbed the edge of Batgirl’s cape in his fist, only to find his face meeting her leather boot a split second later. She turned around to stand over him, arms folded, as he propped himself up on his elbows and felt his nose with his right hand. His subsequent scream told her that his nose had been cleanly broken.

Feeling a little more satisfied with herself, Batgirl headed toward the stairway quickly, determined to get to the penthouse without interruption this time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy. Practically as soon as she entered the stairway, the electricity in the building went out. Batgirl knew she wouldn’t have a problem navigating – she had trained herself to do so in near total darkness. The problem was that people who lived in the building flooded into the hallways to see what had happened.

Batgirl was just about to write off the power outage as coincidence as she continued up the stairway, until she heard a door on the first floor of the stairway open and the man she left with a nosebleed yelling.

“Serves all a’ ya right! That’s what ya get for callin’ Batgirl on me!”

She shook her head and sighed as she realized that the man she had assaulted on the first floor must have been the building’s super – and he was now angry, taking it out on the poor residents of the building. Batgirl turned and headed back down the stairway quickly, but noiselessly. She would straighten him out…one way or the other.

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“Wait, wait…everyone just wait a minute!” The mayor of Gotham City wasn’t happy as he stormed into his office, followed by two of his aides, and slammed the door behind him in an effort to keep the press out. “What the heck are we going to do? We have no police in Gotham!”

“Call the governor, sir. We can get the National Guard down here–”

“Fine, do that…we can’t let this city fall into chaos.” The mayor headed back to the door, taking a deep breath as he prepared to open the door and face the press waiting outside. “And while you’re at it, call the prosecutor. I want charges filed against Gordon.”

As soon as he opened the door, the mayor was immediately greeted by dozens of flashing bulbs, and a flood of high intensity lighting. Cameras from every major television station were rolling. Newspaper reporters from cities as far as Metropolis were holding tape recorders and writing furiously. Voices were yelling out questions – people were demanding answers.

In the dark, nearly silent Bat Cave, Bruce Wayne sat leaned back in his chair, watching the circus unfold on a large screen monitor. He watched the mayor stand silently for several minutes, patiently waiting for the roar of activity to stop. Once the noise reduced to a few random camera clicks and whispers, he cleared his throat.

“We will not be held hostage by an illegal strike. We will not leave the citizens of Gotham unprotected. Mark my words…there will be law enforcement in Gotham City. I will take five questions, in random order.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he watched the mayor point a man in a cheap-looking suit and glasses to ask the first question. He recognized the man immediately.

“Clark Kent, Daily Planet. Is there any truth to the rumor that the city will be pursuing charges against Commissioner James Gordon due to the strike?”

The mayor glanced at one of his aides, who shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kent. I can’t comment on that. Next question?”

The monitor in front of Bruce went dark as he suddenly turned it off in disgust. He stood up and paced partway around the room, sighing as he watched Alfred enter with a cup of tea.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce returned to his seat as Alfred removed the cup from the tray he carried and placed it on Bruce’s desk.

Alfred put his tray on the desk as well and leaned over Bruce. “Is something the matter?”

Bruce sighed as he watched the steam slowly rising from his cup of tea. “I just hope Cassandra is having better luck then I am.”

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Steam rushed into the stairwell as Batgirl opened the door to the basement. She knew it wasn’t normal – someone had opened all of the boiler’s relief valves. It wasn’t enough that the super turned off the power – he was now working on turning off the heat as well. She took a deep breath and headed into the hot clouds of steam – it wouldn’t be easy, especially for someone wearing leather from head to toe.

“Who’s down here?” A man’s gruff voice boomed through the basement suddenly. She recognized that voice, it was the same man who yelled up the stairway earlier – the building’s super.

Batgirl rolled to the ground quickly, tumbling behind one of the hot boilers. She could hear footsteps moving through the clouds of steam, slowly – and as a shadowed form passed, she could make out that he was holding a metal pipe. She smiled to herself – this man obviously had no idea who he was messing with.

In a moment of arrogance, Batgirl suddenly stepped out from behind the boiler. She knew that the man’s best attempts to hit her with the pipe would fail – she simply ducked out of the way as he made his best effort. But she didn’t anticipate his next move.

The super raised his weapon above a thick iron pipe which ran past the boiler, making a sharp turn downwards to the boiler’s bottom. It was obviously a large gas line – and the man was threatening to break it open. “You understand that, dontcha? Huh?”

He began smiling as he watched Batgirl turn as if to leave – but his joy was short-lived as she spun around, her boot knocking the steel pipe he held to the floor with a ‘clang’. A powerful blow to his nose accompanied by a loud ‘crack’ left pain in it’s wake – even more this time, since his nose had already been broken once by her. He then found his knees collapsing from under him as a quick sweep from one of Batgirl’s feet sent him tumbling onto his back.

“What’re ya gonna do…kill me? You aint got the guts!”

Batgirl smiled mischievously and kneeled down in front of the super, staring at him for a second steadily. He seemed to cower away from her as she reached for him – it was enough. She meant to intimidate him, not hurt him.

She rose to her feet quickly and headed toward the electrical circuit box on the wall at the far end of the basement. As she opened the door and turned all of the switches back on, she could practically hear the cheers of the residents upstairs.

But as she saw a shadow descend upon behind her from behind, she knew she had forgotten something. It was something very important about the building, the original purpose she had come. Unfortunately, before she remembered…it came to find her.

Batgirl felt her sight black out as she felt a sudden blow to the back of her head. Consciousness slipped away from Batgirl quickly…and she could swear that she heard laughter.

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“Barbara, I asked you here to tell you that…I may be going away for a while.”

“Dad–” Barbara Gordon rolled her wheelchair quickly around her father’s furniture, easily catching up to him as he stepped into the kitchen. He had re-arranged his furniture after her…accident, anticipating a visit from her. “They wouldn’t dare file charges against you.”

Jim Gordon smiled his daughter as he removed a soft drink from the refrigerator. Barbara almost rolled over him as he attempted to remove a frying pan from next to the stove – she insisted on doing the cooking when she visited. He had to smile…she was irrepressible. In spite of an injury that would cause most of her peers, and his, to simply give up, she had become just as skilled in a wheelchair as she was on foot as Batgirl.

“The fact is, Barbara, that this strike is illegal. It’s not endorsed by the union, even if they are supporting me. I gave the city absolutely no negotiation time–”

“But you’re doing what’s right–” Barbara froze, staring steadily at her dad as both of their eyes turned sad. She knew very well that what was right was often not the law. It was one thing she learned over and over again during her time working alongside Batman.

“I know…I know it’s right.” Jim leaned against the counter and sighed, placing the soft drink can next to him as he felt his grip on it weakening. “With all my heart, I know. That’s why no matter what happens…I can’t back down. I’m willing to go to jail for this, Barbara.”

“I understand, dad.”

Jim smiled again as he looked at Barbara. She did understand – she was no stranger to bending the rules to do what was right. “For someone like me, Barbara…the law is my life. And here I am–”

“Dad, if you end up in jail–” Barbara smiled at Jim and nudged him with her elbow as she passed in her wheelchair. “I’ll break you out myself.”

Jim laughed as he reached out to hug his daughter. “You do that, Barbara. You do that.”

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Batgirl woke up abruptly and looked around, still dizzy from the blow she took to the back of her head. She realized quickly that she was lying on the floor of a small bathroom somewhere. A really disgusting bathroom.

She leapt to her feet quickly, in spite of the dizziness she felt – she panicked for a moment as she realized that there were literally dozens of roaches parading around the floor around her. Finding a perch off of the floor was out of the question – the overfilled toilet and bathtub were covered with some kind of grease and were too slippery, and the sink actually contained more roaches then the floor did. There was no ceiling in the room, just open rafters and wood from the floor above – and the walls had holes in them.

The door, as she guessed, was locked and barricaded, and something was propped against the outside of the door to prevent her from forcing it open. There was no window. She sighed, and began looking around the bathroom for clues as to where she was. That’s when she noticed that there was something in the murky water in the toilet and tub.

She leaned a little bit closer, not too close, but still couldn’t see anything. Luckily, there was a discarded handle from an old plunger – which she used to poke carefully through the murky water. She felt something large and very solid which was blocking the toilet drain.

Against her better judgement, Batgirl used the stick to push the object up along the wall of the toilet. As she did, she could see it take form – it was a badly decomposed human head, belonging to a woman who had obviously been killed only a short time ago. She jumped back suddenly – lifting the head had caused the water to suddenly drain out of the toilet, leaving the head, and it’s accompanying pungent odor, exposed.

She backed up against the opposite wall as she watched the several dozen roaches present in the room congregating toward the toilet – now that the murky water was gone, they were free to dine on the head’s rotting flesh. Batgirl glanced at the bathtub for a moment, afraid of what she might find in there. But she had a pretty good theory – that it was most likely the rest of the woman who’s head was in the toilet.

Batgirl jumped again as she door to the bathroom suddenly opened. Standing in the doorway was the Joker, holding a gun. She began to shake her head slowly – this had to be a nightmare.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Joker waved past him, inviting Batgirl to leave the bathroom. She took him up on his offer quickly, racing past him to the exit door of the next room – only to find that it was locked as well. “I would have simply locked you in a closet, but I figured…what if you had to use the head?”

As the Joker began laughing hysterically at his own joke, Batgirl kicked the door, hard, to try and force it open. She succeeded only in breaking a small hole in the door – immediately discovering that there was a loud, angry dog on the other side.

“Feathers, be quiet!”

Joker’s threat was immediately followed by two rounds fired in the dog’s direction. After the first two rounds missed, Batgirl watched him take aim again – he was going to kill that dog. Acting both on fear and instinct, she launched herself at the Joker, both of her feet making contact with his chest. As she tumbled away from him, she was sure she had knocked him to the ground – and more importantly, caused him to drop his gun.

Correction – one of his guns. As she quickly found out, the Joker was well-armed. As soon as she had knocked him to the ground, he simply drew another gun and fired at the dog again. He missed, but this time she could breathe a sigh of relief as the dog ran down the hall.

“Feathers and I play with guns all the time.” Joker paced around the room, looking out the window briefly into the darkness before turning his attention back to Batgirl. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan to kill you. You’re Batty’s invitation to my penthouse party. Girls, dogs, rodents…what more could you want in a party?”

Batgirl guessed he meant that he wanted to lure Batman to rescue her – only to fall into some kind of trap. She eyed the window behind Joker carefully – maybe she did have the chance for escape. Only she realized that Joker had removed all of the cable launchers on her belt, so her chances of surviving a dive out the window were slim.

“Ah-ah. I wouldn’t go jumping out that window without a net.”

Joker suddenly grabbed Batgirl by the back of the neck and shoved her back into the bathroom. She had to use nearly all of her agility and strength to avoid falling into the murky water in the bathtub. She tensed as she watched Joker enter the small room with her.

“Meet Annette.”

Batgirl suddenly found herself with a rare chance as the Joker began doubling over with laughter at his own joke. She gripped his hair in her hand tightly and slammed his head into the wall, before tripping him to cause him to easily lose his balance and fall on the slippery tile floor. Her muscles tensed as she eyed the window in the next room. It was time to go.

“Some people just can’t take a joke. Which is fine…I have a serious side too, you know.”

As Batgirl raced for the window, she took one quick look back. She just had to see what Joker meant – no matter how frightening he was to be around, anyone who met him had to admit that his behavior was a curiosity. But then again…curiosity is what killed the cat.

She remembered that the Joker was carrying a pistol. She was ready for that, even several of them. But there was no way she could have possibly prepared for this. As she raced for the window, she watched the Joker light a stick of dynamite, hold it in his mouth, and run toward the window right behind her.

For the first time since she began working alongside Batman, she closed her eyes as she sailed through the glass window, and began plummeting. Her eyes remained closed as she held her arms stiff at her sides, the edges of her cape in her hands, just as Batman trained her to do when jumping without equipment – it would slow her down, lesson the impact, he said.

But he never imagined explosives figuring into the equation…and neither did she. Batgirl could feel an immense heat and pressure behind her, pain filled her head from her ears. It was the most painful experience she ever felt, to feel her body pushed to it’s limits, to be tossed helplessly through the air.

She thought it would never end…but it did. The unyielding ground pounded her mercilessly as she landed in the small strip of grass alongside the apartment building, the pain she felt from the impact was almost refreshing after encountering that explosion. She opened her eyes quickly to see that the Joker was calmly gliding to a landing on a building across the street – he was wearing a parachute all along.

Everything seemed so serene and quiet as flashing lights began to approach quickly. Red and white for ambulance, red for fire company, and blue for police. She guessed that meant there were a few officers working in spite of the strike.

It was so quiet. Much, much too quiet. Batgirl sat up abruptly to be met with severe dizziness, convincing her that she would be unable to rise to her feet. She turned around quickly as she saw a shadow behind her – it was Batman. He was saying something, but she didn’t understand him for some reason.

As Batman lifted her and carried her toward the Batmobile, she glanced at the approaching emergency vehicles again. They should be loud, ear piercing – but she heard only silence. She looked at Batman, he was still talking, yet she couldn’t hear. Panic hit her quickly as she realized what had happened – the explosion had taken away her hearing. She was now deaf.

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“Record.”

Bruce sat in a nearly darkened office, the only source of light in the room being his computer screen. It cast a blue, eerie glow across the room, reflecting his mood. His hands were still shaking from the moment when he discovered Cassandra’s hearing loss. Like with all cases of hearing loss, only time would tell just how permanent it was.

Cassandra held out bravely in telling her…only it became obvious after Alfred asked what she wanted for dinner, and she didn’t seem to understand. She just nodded cheerfully, trying to cover up the fact that she didn’t understand a word.

At that moment, Bruce remembered the smell of explosives in the area where he found Cassandra, and noticed small amounts of damage that could have been easily discounted as vandalism. He immediately insisted on testing Cassandra’s hearing in spite of her resistance.

“I’ve been looking after Cassandra for almost a year now. I thought she would be an excellent Batgirl. She was an excellent Batgirl…or maybe she still is. I don’t know anymore.”

Bruce leaned forward at his desk, leaning his elbows on the surface, placing his face in his hands. He asked Alfred to make sure he would not be disturbed for any reason – he didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

“I have no one to blame for what happened but myself. I sent her out there. I put her in danger when she was clearly not ready. I almost…almost got her killed. And if she would have been killed–”

He tossed aside the microphone and ran his fingers through his hair nervously, before abruptly shoving his computer monitor off of his desk. The sound of crashing glass didn’t appease him the slightest bit.

“Dear God…I can never forgive myself. Not this time. Not ever.”

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