Thanks for all the birthday wishes! So, for disclaimer see chapter one, and I hope you enjoy reading!
"Time is of the essence," Nat sat up, pulling her tattered blanket close around her.
"Who's there?" She asked, looking around herself. Maybe she could switch dimensions? No, if anyone found out...
No answer.
"Hello?" She stood up, looking around her at the surprisingly clean Metropolis alley.
Silence.
"Anything I can help you with, Miss?" A voice asked behind her. She spun round. A man with dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a Superman costume on, asked.
"No, sorry. Thought I heard someone say something to me," she smiled, trying to hide her face. It didn't work.
"You couldn't be any more than 12!" He gasped, and Nat narrowed her eyes.
"13," she growled out each syllable.
"Is there any family I can take you to? Friends?" Superman asked.
"Like I'd be out here if I had any if those. I was abandoned as a baby. Raised by an old hobo, and here I am," she shrugged, starting to walk away.
"And where's this old hobo now?"
"He died. Old age got to him," she sighed, letting the hero walk closer to her.
"When?" He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Just this winter."
"Would you like to come with me?" He asked, reaching round to grasp her other shoulder.
"No! I'm not going to some creepy orphanage! I won't let you take me!" She froze time, and climbed a nearby fire escape, up to the top of the building, where she clicked her fingers again.
"I won't let you take me," she hissed at a surprised Superman, before shifting dimensions.
The old cabin she lived in was crude, but it did the job. April kept it at a cooling temperature during the day, and warm at night, using her powers of weather. Or seasons, depending on what she felt like.
Her parents had known about her powers. They knew before she did. But they didn't leave because of them. At least, April hoped not.
She stood up off the sofa, and walked to the window. The sun was just setting, the perfect time, in her opinion. It was so beautiful, all the colours that passed along the sky.
"Hey Ma, hey Pa," she said to the glass, as though her parents could hear her, "I'm thinking of leaving, I really am. I'm working on my cloud travel. It's hard, but I think I can make it to the US. I'm leaving tonight, if I do, before I lose the courage. So, I'd just like to say goodbye."
She turned away from the window, and grabbed her backpack.
"And who is this Lillian Rose?" The boy with sunglasses asked. They hadn't noticed she was awake, but they seemed to have brought her to a hospital of some kind.
"She's a girl, I met her in the future. She, along with two other girls, are part of something large. A prophecy. Something we really don't want happening," the light speed boy looked to be troubled.
"Bart, what don't we want happening? Gar, go get Nightwing," the boy with sunglasses addressed his friends, and the monkey boy, probably Gar, left the room. Bart, the light speed boy, sighed.
"Well, they're major. To everybody," Bart scratched the back of his head, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"In what way?" Gar walked back in with a tall man, several years older than the others, supposedly Nightwing.
"Spoilers," Bart grinned.
"What do her tattoos mean? We should get Zatanna in here to check for magic," Nightwing walked over to Lillian.
"Or you could ask me," she said, opening her eyes. Nightwing remained stoic.
"My tattoos have magic in them. My father gave them to me," Lillian shrugged, tugging on the edge of her blue tank top.
"And who's your father?" Nightwing asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The sunglasses boy watched intently.
"If I told you, he would make your deaths and afterlife absolute horrific," Lillian frowned.
"Who is your father?" Sunglasses boy pressed.
"Hades," Bart deadpanned. The room was silent, until an angry Lillian flew at him, clawing at his face and hair.
"How'd you know? No one knows! You're lying! You're, you're, you're," she stumbled back from him, and went and sat back on her bed, repeatedly tapping her smallest golden tattoo.
"Bart! Are you ok?" Gar asked, while sunglasses boy just watched her.
"Why are you tapping your tattoos?" He asked. Lillian sighed.
"The gold tattoos each signify a heavenly virtue. The black ones show the seven deadly sins."
"And that specific tattoo?" Nightwing asked.
"Forgiveness, the opposite of wrath," she sighed, ceasing her tapping, "it calms me down. I can also calm down others, or make them feel any of the sins or virtues."
"So you control emotions?" Gar simplified.
"No. I cannot control love, hate, happiness, sadness, any other emotion, really," Lillian stared down at her arms.
Nightwing realised the girl must be cold, in only a blue tank top, denim shorts, a red hair band, and non matching, polka dot socks. Her green boots rested by the side of her bed. He chucked her a blanket from one of the other beds, and she wrapped it round her shoulders.
"Not to sound stupid, but what are the sins and virtues? I can't really remember," Bart blushed lightly, scratching the back of his head.
"Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. The virtues, in order with their opposites are; chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, forgiveness, kindness, and humility," Lillian explained instantly.
"Noted," Gar nodded.
"I'm sorry, but where am I? And who the heck are you?" Lillian pointed at the unnamed boy in sunglasses.
"Robin. You're in a safe place, don't worry," 'Robin' smiled slightly, before they left the room.
Yep. All these years of running have definitely made me crazy, Lillian thought. Who names their kid Nightwing?