A/N: It's a slow start with this ff but bare with me here

Use Your Illusion ACT III: Thank you for the feedback! I personally felt like the first chapter was pretty rough. I appreciate the feedback and I'll be looking forward to your next review! :)


"Oh, hell yes!" I felt the person shift in front of me and suddenly the blindfold was gone and I could finally see my savior.

"Says on your stats chart here your powers are hypnosis and memory manipulation." Said Robin, formerly Batman's sidekick and later Nighwing from the DC comic f i c t i o n a l universe, "Think you could give me a hand with the guards coming our way?"

Okay. So. I'm having a psychotic break. I've grown so despondent in my cell that I've imagined a fictional character to my rescue. I'm probably actually sleeping in my bed behind me now.

I gasped in pain as a bullet grazed my arm, drawing out a thin trail of blood. Looking over Robin's shoulder, I saw at least six or seven guards charging towards us, some already calling for backup. So, that hurt meaning this can't be a dream, and secondly, "stop! You're on our side, fight them!" The men's eyes became glassy as they turned around to fight the backup they had just called for. "That should give us some time to escape, my hypnosis doesn't last for long though, once I'm a certain distance away, so we better—"

"Great! Let's go, the file room is this way I believe," Robin declared, yanking at my chained arms and pulling me off down the hall in the other direction.

The file room was divided in half, one side was taken up by a huge computer mainframe with multiple monitors while the other half had floor to ceiling file cabinets.

"What are we looking for exactly?" I asked, trailing my still cuffed hands over some of the files that lay out on the table. Gen-Y 626, Gen-B 841, Gen-D 100, Gen-E 742—hey wait that's me.

"Any prevalent information that would help me take down this corporation." It didn't escape my attention that he said 'me' instead of 'us'. So no team yet? Young Justice or Teen Titans, I wasn't sure. "Think you could do me a favor and scrub the video files of me breaking in here?" I frowned.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I asked.

"Isn't one of your powers to manipulate memories? Well, manipulate the computer memories." Huh, you know neither I nor any of the scientists had ever thought to try my powers out on inanimate objects like computers before, but now that he says that, it sounds totally plausible.

"Never tried it before, but I'll give it a shot. Y'mind?" I said, holding up my cuffs.

"Oh right," he said, pulling out a lock pick from his utility belt. In seconds, the cuffs fell away and I rubbed my wrists, glad to be free from those metal confines. I moved to one of the monitors and touched one of my hands to each side. Focusing on the images, the tape began to rewind, showing me and Robing make our way down the hall, and then him at my door, then Robin fighting his way through the facility, then to him on the roof breaking in, and then he wasn't there.

"Okay, think I did it." I said, pulling back my hands. They were covered in dust. Ew. When I didn't get a response I looked over to see Robin tying away on another one of the computers, a flash drive which I could only assume held his hacking software was plugged into the side of the monitor. "Cool, thanks for that, Gen-E. And pulling that off on your first try, you're really helping me out." I said in a fake falsetto voice, "oh, yeah well all in a day's work." Then I remembered the file with my name on it.

I should probably look at that. Or steal it. Probably both.

I snatched up the file labeled Gen-E 742 just as I heard shouts come from down the hall. I poked my head out the door to the file room to confirm my suspicions. Lots of guards coming our way. Lots of angry guards with guns and shields and batons and Tasers coming out way.

"Uh, you 'bout done there sport? Because we got company." I asked, quickly swinging back into the file room and slamming the door behind me and locking it.

CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG!

I yelped, moving away as bullets ricochet off the metal door.

"All done here, let's move out." Robin said, yanking out the flash drive and stowing it away in one of the many pockets in his utility belt and pulling out some odd boomerang thing with a flashing red light.

Wait is that a bomb?

Oh that's totally a bomb.

Robin chucked the thing at the wall opposite to us before rushing over to me. Grabbing me around the waist he said, "You're probably going to want to cover your ears," as he threw his cape over the two of us. Taking his advice, I clapped my hands over my ears just before a loud explosion knocked into us. I stumbled but Robin's arm kept me upright.

"Subtle," I coughed, as drywall and other rubble filled the air, "good thing I erased that footage, they'll never know anyone was here."

"We don't have time for sarcastic one liners," Robin said, pulling me through the hole in the wall he had just made and into the night air, "we gotta go!"

Night! Air! Fresh air! Wow!—It smells like low-tide and hot trash, but still—non-filtered air! And stars! And I feel a breeze! Wind! –Oh, it's cold. I can hear cars rushing by in the distance telling me there must be a freeway near and the low-tide says we're by the ocean and—

"Come one!" Robin tugged at my elbow, rounding a corner and dragging me down an ally. "My motorcycle is park just around here."

"Some of us don't have shoes onaaAAH!" I let out a strangled cry, cutting myself off as I felt the wind from the bullets rush by me on all sides. Robin glanced behind us and swore. Picking me up, he tossed me onto his back. No longer having to drag me behind him, he was able to pick up the pace considerably.

Rounding another corner, Robin set me down and pulled off the tarp he'd been using to hide his bike.

"Get on," he said, thrusting a spare helmet with a yellow R on the side into my hands. He didn't need to say it twice as I quickly put the helmet on and scrambled onto the motor bike behind him, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle.

We zipped off into the night, the sounds of gunfire fading behind us.

With our pursuers lost in the streets behind us, I allowed myself to enjoy being out of my cell and that facility more fully.

We were in a city! A cold city, a big city, a city with lots of neon lights, a city with night life. This definitely wasn't Florida, and most certainly not Little Havana. This was not home. And despite my joy of finally being free, now came the cold, heavy weight of fear. I was in a strange city, I had just been rescued by some guy in a Robin cosplay outfit who fancied himself a real life vigilante—and I got on his motorcycle with him! What was I thinking?—Well I was thinking I didn't want to die or get recaptured by the people shooting at us.—But this guy is totally cracked! He could be some weird fetish serial killer, or maybe working for a rival company for Nexus. Good going me, out of the frying pan and into the fire.

It felt like a relatively short drive (or maybe Robin had just been going obscenely over the speed limit for someone driving in the city) before we stopped at the entrance to an underground parking garage.

Apparently this is where Robin had been living for the last few months. Attached to the garage was an apartment complex still under construction, he had taken the liberty of commandeering one of the finished apartments for himself (he's squatting).

"Make yourself at home," he said, walking in ahead of me and making a beeline for the MacGyver computer he had sitting on the floor in the corner. The room was pretty barren, a blow up mattress was next to the door, a few blankets and a pillow lay strewn on top of it. Bits and pieces of technology sat under a light next to the computer which must be his work station. I stood frozen by the door, not wanting to get too comfortable when my mind was still on high alert.

"No, wait, I need answers." Robin looked up from the stack of papers he had been rifling through to look back at me.

"Yeah, so do I. That's what I'm hoping for," he held of the flash drive, waving it above his head like that was the answer I was looking for.

"No no, I mean, like," I struggled to put everything I wanted to say into words. "Why did you save me? There were probably a ton of other people in there you could have also rescued but you only got me. Where am I? Who are you?" Robin took a moment, processing through all of my questions before he turned to fully face me.

"You're right, I can definitely answer those questions for you right now. First, if you didn't know, the place you were being held in was called Nexus, it's a—"

"Yup, already know that, evil corporation, black market, blah blah, mass production of super powers." I dismissed before he could launch into a subject I already knew about.

"O-okay," he said, a little taken aback but pressed on, "a friend of mine from another city informed me about Gen-E 742 and how word had been getting around about the mental persuasion super power and the waves this would make in white collar crime. They asked me to intercept the product before it had a chance to hit the market." Here he paused, scratching the back of his head, "honestly I was kind of expecting a Petri dish, not a… girl." I crossed my arms, cocking my head to the side. "You're in Jump City, and I guess we never got a chance to introduce ourselves earlier," he got up and walked towards me, holding out one green gloved hand, "I'm Robin."

"Like hell you are."

"Excuse me?" His hand and jaw dropped in surprise.

"You're—you're not Robin, and this isn't Jump City." I uncrossed my arms only to cross them again, pacing a little bit as my brain tried to logic this out. "You're some delusional super nerd or—or somethingestupido pendejo, you need medical help. I mean, thanks and all for the rescue but superheroes aren't a real thing."

"What?" He looked incredulous.

"Me piro," I shook my head, making my towards the door only to be yanked back. "Hey!" I yelped only for a gloved hand to get clapped over my mouth.

"Listen," Robin said into my ear, "I don't know what I need to do to prove I'm not crazy, but you need to be quieter or we'll get caught!"

"¡Me resbala, este es tu maletín! I'm not the one squatting in an apartment complex!" I struggled to get out of his grip but he was too strong.

"Quiet!" He hissed, and dragged me over to his computer, "here if you'd just be quiet for a moment—" He let go of me and I was really, really tempted to run (he'd probably catch me almost instantly anyways) I watched him warily as he went back to sifting through his stack of papers before pulling one out and handing it to me. "Look." I looked. It was a newspaper article.

THE DAILY PLANET (I've never heard of that newspaper before)

June 19th, 1999 (That can't be right it's 2019 not 1999)

BATMAN AND ROBIN STOP THE JOKER FROM BLOWING UP HOSPITAL

Below the heading was a grainy black and white picture of Batman and Robin, standing beside truck as a man in a strait jacket and mask was being carted into the back. Though a few years younger, the kid in the picture was undeniably the same kid who stood in front of me now. I felt the paper. It was thin and delicate and a little yellowed; if this was a fake, it was a damn good one.

I looked back up at Robin, then back down to the picture. Then to Robin. Then to the picture. Robin. The picture. Robin. Picture. Robin. Picture.

"That's—you're—can't—but—this!" I spluttered, my vision began to swim as I became lightheaded, blood was pounding in my ears and it had suddenly become very hard to swallow. Robin reached out and caught me as I crumpled to the floor.

What. The. Hell.