Author's Notes

Not too much to say, cause I want to reveal as the story goes along:

Mari's Treatment:

Chelation: use of agents to remove heavy metals from the body. In this case, I've suggested that Bats is smart enough to create his own agent. The components of the compound will be revealed as necessary, I guess.

Blue Kryptonite: Used in chelation. Blue Kryptonite removes Kryptonian powers in some timelines of Superman. Used to keep her kryptonite poisoning from weakening her to the point of death.

Mari's Youth:

She crashed in Gotham some time after Superman, despite the fact that they are probably twins, because of meteors destroying her pod's outer shell. Three men discovered her ship: Gordon, Batman, and Harvey Dent. Only Batman is aware that she is kryptonian and has the ability to eventually gain powers. Two-Face/Dent has moments of awareness but mostly forgets her, and Gordon thinks that she is a weak and amazing creature. She was raised by Dent before he turned into Two-Face, at which point she came to live with Batman and discovered he was Bruce Wayne. Approximately a year ago she fell into a cavern while fighting a creature similar to a vampire and was re-poisoned with kryptonite, this time at the base at her spine.

Chapter One: On A Dark And Stormy Night

How do you start this sort of letter? Hi, I'm your sister, I need a sample of your blood or I'm gonna die? Not working. Not not working at all.

"Mari." Robin comes into my makeshift hospital room, off in a corner of the Cave. It's cool down here, and safe, so Batman (not prone to taking chances) has set up shop down here. The space is rather cute thanks to my feminine touch, flowers and all. "How are you doing?"

"I have writer's block," I tell him with a smile, leaning against Alfred's squishy pillows. "Maybe I should just let Batman tell him after all." Closing my eyes feels so good. My body hurts all over.

"Did you want to at least explain why you waited so long?" Robin's right, of course. Why didn't I tell him as soon as I found out, instead of now? Cause I didn't want to lose this? What is this? Gotham isn't exactly the best place to grow up, but I would have missed it. He wouldn't have made me leave, of course, but who would choose Gotham over anything else? All the times I've gotten hurt, kicked butt, even been terrified of Joker and Two-Face, they were so important. "Mari?" Robin asks again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I insist. "I don't know why I didn't tell him. Maybe because he's so impressive and I'm so..."

"You're fine the way you are!" I open my eyes, surprised that he's yelled. "Damn it!"

"Robin!" He looks so angry. It's always been a sore spot for me, not having any powers. But he doesn't have any powers and neither does Batman. "Sorry I'm stupid!" He rushes over and hugs me tightly. His Kevlar armor pokes into my shoulders as I hug him back. It's so familiar and comfortable: the edge of his mask on my cheek, the way I can rest my chin in his collarbone. I could fall asleep like this. I have before, in fact, back when we were still little little. At thirteen and fifteen we weren't exactly grown up now, but the fifteen year old Robin was more of a grownup than Bruce's fake identity. "I guess I just feel like a kid around you guys."

Robin releases me and takes off his mask, staring me in the eye. "Could a kid punch out Joker? Or hog-tie the Penguin?" He takes my hand and makes it into a fist. "You can beat this up too!" My laughter quickly turns into snorts.

"Ow, that hurts!" I wheeze, but I can't stop laughing. "Hello, invalid!" I pump my fist against his chest. "Ow that hurts again." Kevlar sucks.

An alarm fills the cave and Robin slides off the bed, adjusting his mask. "See you later, alligator!" I call after him as he closes the curtain around my bed.

"In a while, crocodile! I'll send Alfred down to make sure you don't laugh yourself to death!"

I throw my pillow at him. "I'll get you!"

I'm awoken by another alarm, and my communicator tells me its after two. It's hard to rise out of my comfortable position, but I don't want to leave the batcave unattended. Alfred will be down soon if he has to, but I should check too. My legs and my back feel especially sore. Ugh. Chelation's not working. I push myself into my wheelchair with my arms. If Batman and Robin are out in the field, shouldn't the alarm go to them? And why isn't this chair electric?

I push myself through the curtain, thankful that there are no stairs or jutting edges in the dim, and that I don't have to maneuver around the batmobile. As I get closer to the alarm the world turns bright red. I touch the keyboard, reaching past Batman's chair. The noise stops, but the light continues. Intruder alert! Intruder alert! I look around frantically before I realize that it means the house.

But where's Alfred? I go through the cameras and I see two figures on the second floor. Before I can turn on night vision the screen blacks out. I go through the cameras but I keep getting cut off. I take my communicator out of my lap and press the emergency button. Milliseconds pass without a sound. No Batman, no Robin, oh God. What do I do?

They aren't in the Batcave system so they're probably using some kind of disruptor, I try to think it through. If they were the reason I can't reach anyone then they'd be down here. Which means I should call the police.

But I can't.

I'm down here and they're up there and if I call the police then they'll know that I'm not up there and the damn elevator is so freaking obvious and I can't climb the stairs to the secret entrance or get to the one through the clock.

The phone is in my hand. Two buttons... that's all it'd take. Save Alfred Save Alfred oh god where are you Robin? They're probably fighting the Joker.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Three.

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them slowly. That's all the time I have. I have to protect Alfred. I have to protect the house. I have to protect our secret identity. I open 'phone' on my communicator and press 'police.' It's a direct line from Wayne Manor. No 911 for the richest in the city. "Hello!" I say in a panicked voice as soon as someone picks up. No time for greetings. "T-this is Mari Wayne, there's someone in my house!" I start sniffling. "I can hear voices."

"It's okay Ms. Wayne, calm down," a strong male voice tells me. "Stay on the phone with me, okay? The police will get there as soon as they can." That's my signal. "Commish-!" I cut off the communicator and wheel myself over to the stairs as fast as I can. They come out in the least obvious spot. I can just hear "Damn they must have cut the phone lines," because I've already checked that they're indeed dead. If Commissioner Gordon is there though, then I won't have very much time to hide myself. I have to climb the stairs, make it to my room (or any room a thirteen year old girl that's without a wheelchair could reach) and stay out of sight until the police come.

And pray. Pray for Batman and Robin, too busy to reach, pray for Alfred who should have heard the alarm and come downstairs, and for those creeps upstairs when James Gordon gets a hold of them. And maybe for James Gordon if he doesn't.

I pull myself up and push myself off the chair until I'm on my hands and knees. Crawling crawling, up and up I go. I hum to myself, a survival mechanism, like Dick's jokes. 1, 2, 3, 4, break bad bones, kick in the door... What the heck kind of rhyme is that? 5, 6, 7, 8, hang up baddies from the gate... Halfway up, I look down at my communicator. Nothing. No Bats, nobody coming on the proximity alarm, which is still glaring INTRUDERS when I pull it up. Same people, no police. I wipe my forehead. Damn it stupid kryptonite coursing through my veins. I think about the tiny sliver in my spinal cord that keeps me from walking more than five feet at a time, that probably makes my bone marrow green, with every step up.

That, in the end, is why I can't tell Superman who I am, probably, or at least one of those stupid reasons. A single scratch, and I will become the greatest weapon against him in the whole universe. The only weapon.

I don't have time to think about that now. My hand reaches up and comes down with a 'plop!' "Huh?" I gasp, then realize I've reached the top of the stairs. I take a moment to shake the sweat off my limbs and wipe my forehead again. I realize I'm breathing heavily as I assess myself. A t-shirt and sweats isn't exactly nightwear, but I muss up my hair to make it look like maybe I fell asleep in my clothes earlier. That way I can hide in more places. I slap my cheeks to bring more color into them, and I take off my heavy socks. Too hospital like. I use them to wipe the sweat. I'll smell like feet, but it's better than armpits. My communicator can't come with me. Once I leave this cave, I'm on my own for real. I mean, there's no one here, but still. There was always the possibility that Batman would finally call or that Alfred would reach his communicator to check on me.

HOW LONG have you been living here? I ask myself and then in a fit of passion through my pad over my shoulder and down the stairs. It clatters noisily, but it fills me with pride. "I'M A BAT DAMNIT!" I stand up, which I have to do to access the door, but it's really for myself. "RAAARRRRRR!"

The sound echoes through the cave and I flinch. Then I giggle. Batman once scared himself when he was facing Scarecrow for the first time, but I don't think it was quite the same sensation. I lean against the wall as I press in the code, and the first door hisses open. I pull myself inside a small box, like a mini elevator with two doors. The front door opens into a hallway on the first floor, but it's not near any valuables. Without my communicator, all I can do is open it.

The world is silent. And way too dark. Is there a storm coming? One to match the silent storm in my heart. How perfect. Gotham has a tendency to dark weather, and mood-making rain would slow down the cops. I catch myself biting my thumb as I slip across the hall into the den. Too long on my feet! I'm panting again as I collapse behind a couch. I'm not safe here, there are ten thousand dollars worth of art alone in this room, and it's too large. Plus there's always the possibility that they want me. I'm worth quite a lot. They could ransom me to Bruce or even to the trust company that he set up in case I had to live on my own. It was technically still Wayne Enterprises, but they could ransom me to it if Bruce wasn't around. Would Bruce be around? God, what if he's dead? What if Joker finally killed him? Or Two-Face?

Thinking of Two-Face makes my chest tighten. But I don't have time to think about that. I'm minutes away from something. Now if only I knew what.