(I have made a vow. A vow to write the worst, AU story with Batman as a girl, that I could think of. The first chapter will be short, but I plan to expand after it. I understand if you may wish to gouge your eyes out after reading this.)

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There was not a single night that went by, where Blair did not recall, what happened 15 years ago. That horrible noise stinging her ears. The noise intertwined with the death of her parents, and the cause of her pain. Yes, Blair remembered, and felt all of it.

The pain, and noise however would fade at times. They would cease, and leave only a blissful moment of silence, a moment of darkness. As someone who had adopted the shadows, calling the light, good, and the dark bad, were just phrases to her. No more than the words of a child, stumbling in ignorance, incapable of seeing the gray in the world.

The question Blair asked herself was; 'Am I doing this to ease my own pain? Or to make sure no one else has to suffer?'

As she watched, like a predatory shadow, over the rooftops, she did not yet have an answer. All she knew was the noise, the pain, and the drive that kept her going. The same drive, that allowed her to go beyond her limits, and have the courage, and tenacity to do what no one else would.

Blair looked down into the rain soaked alley. An alley with people in it, that she no longer felt connected to. An alley that as far as her mind was concerned, existed in a seperate reality. These thoughts clouded her mind, and then the sound of a gun being cocked, and the pain, and the noise came back again.

The man below, was unaware of the figure over him. He was unaware of the fact that tonight, he would not get away with harming the innocent, and that tonight he would become the prey he so enjoyed making others. Blair could hear him, every word was like poison, as he rattled the same filth!... for money that,...that Joe Chill had. It made her blood, boil, and she felt alive, as she went on the attack.

His eyes were wide with terror, his pupils had contracted in their state of fear. The man who moments ago was making threats, had been attacked by an unseen force. Blair watched, deriving a personal amount of satisfaction at watching him squirm. Her first attack had only been to grab his attention, a batarang striking the back of the hand holding the gun, and leaving a large gash. Blair listened to him alternate between sheer horror, asking what she was, pleading that he would never be bad again, and even trying to act brave, and daring her to come out.

The man took a step back, and then another, only the rain and his footsteps seemed to remain, and relief began to wash over him. Then he bumped into something, and he knew that it was not a wall. A feeling of shock ran down his spine, and he felt as though his knee's would buckle inwards. As he turned his head, he looked into a pair of large, orange eyes, on an otherwise blank face.

Blair had been subject to the torment of the sound she hated for a long time. It was why she enjoyed giving scum like this man, their own sounds to fear, their own pain to feel. It felt like years in her mind, as she swung her fist, thinking back on that day as she did so. In reality though, only a brief moment had passed, before a sickening crack filled the air. A crack loud enough to be heard from the noise of the rain fall. His jaw had been broken, though Blair was not finished, and rammed her knee, into his mid-section.

There was blood, the man's blood. It poured from his mouth, falling onto Blair's shoulders. Blair looked at him on the ground, writhing in agony. In that moment, she no longer saw a monster. Blair saw him as he was, nothing more than a man. He was only a man, and justice had been served. The noise had stopped, and she felt at peace with herself.

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As she returned home, Blair was aware of the melancholy she felt. The rain always felt sad, it was like the world was crying. Perhaps good people had died that night, and she had not been there to stop it. On the night her parents were killed, it had rained then too.

She faced the mirror, staring at the imposter in it. The pale face, of Blair Wayne staring back at her. The face she knew was not her own. Blair the person had died, with her parents. There was only the spirit remaining, and Dusk is who she was. The imposter seemed to be smirking at her, and Blair could feel the corners of her mouth pulling upwards. Then it began to converse with her.

"You've been having a bad day, Blair." It said in a sweet voice, the voice of a mother. It was the voice of her mother, exactly as she had remembered it.

"My day has been alright." She said to the doppleganger in the mirror, her voice being serious, conveying that she did not wish to talk.

"But you're lying. You haven't had a good day in years." The other spoke, still in the voice of her mother, but it's face was contorted into a large grin.

Blair did not say anything, but she began to breathe heavily. She was upset, and the imposter knew she was upset. She knew this, because Blair knew this.

"You can't have good days. You won't, because you know deep down, that nothing you ever do will bring them back...And deep down, you know it's your fault." The imposter said lecturing her, tearing Blair down. It made her feel small, just like that night did.

Then, a feeling of anger passed over her guilt. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Blair roared at her reflection. The reflection that only seemed to smile in a content manner at her angry shouting. Blair could feel the blood in her cheeks, as she left the room.

The noise was too much for Blair, and she went to the one silent place she had left. The comfort of her bed, where all sound seemed to vanish. It was a place where she was neither Blair nor Dusk, and simply 'was'.