AN: Sorry I made you guys wait so long for a part two to the Young Justice thing, I just had other priorities, I guess… And I had no idea where to start. But this came from a long car drive, so yeah, boredom = work :D Tell me what you guys think, part three, yes, no, maybe? Oh, and with all of the one shots, they don't apply to Fate at all, they're completely stand-alone. So the events in here don't happen in the main storyline, at all.
Hurt
If there is one thing in the world that I truly hate with all my heart (besides Fincher), it has to be headaches. And right now I was having the mother of all headaches. It felt like blood was pulsing in my brain, pushing my brain against the inside of my skull with every beat of my heart. Sure, I've been through much worse things. I've been stabbed in the leg, I've ran into a building with my wrist while flying at least 25 miles an hour, and quite recently I got shot in the stomach with a gun. But in terms of innocuous yet excruciatingly painful conditions, headaches were at the top of my list.
I forced my eyes open through the pain of the headache, squinting my eyes to adjust my sight to the dimness of the room. The overwhelming smell of cleaning fluid and cheap laundry detergent filled my nose and I couldn't help but instinctively wrinkle it in disgust. It smelled like a hospital, I realized. My disgust quickly turned to panic. Was I in a hospital? Was I more hurt than I really knew? I tried my best to sit up in the bed I was situated in, but the tight pressure of the stiff hospital- like sheets that were tucked in pressed on my abdomen and I couldn't help but let out a pained yelp, falling back to my pillows in defeat. The once great Owlet had been beat by bedding, of all things.
"'Once great Owlet'?" I mocked myself quietly. "Oh yeah, so great she gets herself shot."
"Don't underestimate yourself," a voice tells me, coming out from the darkness. I instantly recognize it as Bruce and then expect to see him emerge dressed in his Batman garb without his cowl. "Learn from your mistakes, though." He does slink out if the shadows, though he is completely dressed as the Dark Knight and looks at me with a mixture of apathy and disapproval.
"If I always learned from my mistakes, I'd know everything," I joke grimly, acknowledging Bruce with a tip of my head. His grim mood is infectious as I immediately put a frown on my face to match his.
"Funny. You should be glad you're alive, Owlet."
"Oh, you can't see the gratitude written all over my face?" I ask sarcastically with an annoyed undertone. I didn't know what happened to make Bruce so pissed off, but he was having a nice time taking it out on me. "Where am I?"
"The medical bay in Mount Justice. We were able to make your situation stable enough so you didn't have to go to a hospital."
"Fantastic," I mutter, not quite knowing what else to say.
"Do you think you're well enough for visitors?" He asks abruptly. I shoot him a confused look.
"What visitors?"
"The team has been worried about you," Bruce admits almost sheepishly. I can't help a little smile that creeps onto my face. I've only known these people for less than a day and they care enough to be worried.
"Yea, that sounds nice," I say, my smile growing a little wider.
"Then here." Bruce steps forward and hands me my cowl and I can't help the little sigh I give as I slip it on.
"Is my face that disturbing that you have to put a mask on it for the sake of others?" I ask cheekily. Bruce doesn't reply. He merely walks away from me towards the hospital-like double doors, flipping on the lights before he opens the door and stalks past whoever was standing behind them.
In an instant the team filters in, Miss Martian at the front with Artemis behind her and the boys, excluding Kaldur I notice, falling in line behind them. Robin is at the back of the pack, dressed in civilian clothes although he wears a pair of dark glasses over his bright blue eyes. Miss Martian begins chattering away about how she's sorry she wasn't there for backup earlier and how it was probably her fault that I got hurt and that poor girl died, etc. etc. Kid Flash, completely in civvies, only shot me a small smile and said that I looked better now that I was less pale and not bleeding all over the place. Superboy stood near M'Gann, silent as a tomb though giving me a slightly reproachful look. Artemis muttered a quick "Hope you're feeling better" before she backed away to give the team's redheads more opportunity to babble at me. Once they ran out of breath I was able to get a word in.
"Did you get the guys?" I ask immediately, ignoring their well wishes and concerning remarks. In the back I see Robin's mouth quirk up with a little smile.
"We rounded up all of them," Artemis confirms. For some reason I seem to trust the information from her mouth more than I would from someone like Miss Martian.
"Good," I sigh, leaning back into my pillows and resting my eyes for a little. "No other injuries besides me?"
"None," Wally relays. "But it was your first mission with us, no one blames you."
I give another sigh. "I do, but I can learn to get over it." I give my new team a bittersweet smile.
"We should go so you can get some more rest," Miss Martian says supportively, filling the silence that followed my admission. She, Superboy, Wally and Artemis filter out of the medical bay quietly. Robin and I are the only two left. He closes the distance between us, slipping off his shades as he walks. I take off my cowl, running a quick hand through my hair and hoping it doesn't look too bad.
"Hey," he says quietly. He shoots me a little smile. I return it, forgetting the pain as I recall how badly I wanted to see his eyes not so long ago. There's some undetectable feeling being reflected in them but it's too foreign for me to tell what it is.
"Hiya," I respond. Dick leans against the side of my bed and I scoot over a bit. He grins a little as he gets the idea and sits next to me on top of the covers. I can't help but let a smile slip onto my face as I feel his familiar warmth and matching Robin smell. He gives me a light one armed hug around my shoulders as I lean my head on the crevice between his neck and shoulder.
Dick gives a barely audible sigh and I want to believe that it's one of content, but I've learned from experience that you can't assume anything when it comes to the bats. I let my eyelids droop down and relax my muscles that have been tense ever since Batman had made his presence known in the room. Dick must feel the tension leaving my body because his arm curls around my shoulder almost protectively.
"There was so much blood," he mumbled into my hair. His breath stirs my bangs and tickles the tip of my nose. "You were so pale, almost completely white."
"How long was I out?" I ask quietly.
"Only for the night. Bruce says you're healing very well for someone who got shot in the stomach."
"It doesn't feel any better," I say bitterly.
Dick continues as if I haven't said anything. "Bruce also says you should be extremely grateful," he tells me. "That the bullet could've gone through your spine and you would've been paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of your life."
I have nothing to say to this and Dick finds my lack of a snarky comment concerning because he pulls me closer to him. My right arm crosses over my body to curl around my neck, twisting my abdomen painfully as I press our bodies even closer together. My head ends up on the opposite side of his neck somehow as I cling to him while dry yet gentle sobs wrack my body. He holds me tenderly as my body trembles with a fear that I cannot express with words. And even though he says nothing I know he understands everything.
It doesn't feel too terribly long but sooner or later Dick shifts me back onto the bed and gets up. The position must've been terribly uncomfortable for him but he didn't say a word. He only slipped his dark sunglasses back on, bending down to give me a gentle kiss on the forehead before silently walking out of the room.
It was at that moment that I realized I'd never be as strong as Bruce or Dick. Their strength and resilience were superpowers in of themselves, that and their common sense. They were such rare human beings that knowing them felt like an honor, though I'd never actually say that to them. The world needed more people like them, and I knew that all the good they'd done in the past, and all the good they'd come to do in the future would pay off for them in the long run. If there was a God, I knew it would.
"Owlie, oh Owlie!" Wally sings as he tromps out of the zeta tube. I look at him from my position on the couch, seeing that there's something odd in his arms, something that's moving… "I've got a present for you!"
Apparently whatever he was holding in his arms didn't like the off-tune warbling that he was demonstrating because the creature leapt out of his arms and barreled toward me. I braced myself instinctively, wondering what the hell that thing could be when a big brown ball of fur jumped into my lap and began nuzzling its face on my knuckles. Immediately a smile lit up my face and I cuddled the brown cat closer to me. In the 4 or 5 days or so since I'd been injured, I hadn't left the mountain at all, not even to just go outside to get some fresh air or anything. I hadn't been able to go to the apartment, I hadn't been able to see Carolina, and I hadn't been able to see this brown cat that had claimed me as its own.
"How did you get him here?" I marveled, scratching the feline behind the ear. It settled into a spot on my lap and begun to purr.
"He was snooping around the entrance to Mount Justice, had a note tied to him." Wally zoomed forward, handing me the note before racing to the kitchen in record time. I looked down at the crumpled notebook paper that he'd thrown into my lap. I picked it up, my jaw dropping as I began to read.
Owlet,
Heard you got hurt. Guess that's what happens when you play with the big boys. Hope he'll make you feel better.
-S
The cat purred even louder as I read the note, perhaps recognizing the scent of Selina from it? I didn't know, and I wasn't going to attempt to figure out what would make sense. I merely pocketed the note with a sigh, wondering if Selina had meant to make the "he" in her note sound like it could mean two different "he's": the cat and Dick.
"Mean anything to you?" Wally asked, now suddenly standing next to me. He was obnoxiously devouring a turkey leg and I wrinkled my nose in disgust and slight contempt. He didn't notice.
"Yea, from a friend. You, uh, might want to eat that in the kitchen. I doubt M'Gann will like it if you get turkey grease all over the carpet after she just vacuumed them." My lame attempt at trying to get Wally to get out of my face with the meat worked well enough because he ended up back in the kitchen, possibly from taking my advice and possibly to just get more food.
I sighed once again, this once a bit more tired than the others. Rubbing my temples through my cowl I wondered off-handedly if I'd have to wear this cowl every single day I stayed at Mount Justice. I didn't really care if they all knew my secret identity. Sure, I'd only known these people for a few days, but I've seen them in action. They're amazing as a team; they all trust each other and play off one another's strengths while covering for their weaknesses. And all of them had already told me their own secret identities. Well, Artemis is just Artemis, and I have a feeling that I've seen her somewhere, but that wasn't really all that important. What was important was the fact that wearing my cowl 24/7 was going to give me helmet hair for the rest of my life. And as an almost 16 year old, the rest of my life is a long time, even in the business that I'm in.
But of course since Bruce insisted on the cowl, who was I to refuse him? Bruce had done so much for me, it would seem selfish and stupid to deny him the choice to let the team know who I really was underneath. I didn't believe it'd be all that big of a deal, anyway. Dick was the only one the information would've affected. However, since he already knew, I was totally fine. Miss Martian and Superboy went to school at Happy Harbor, the high school right on the water down the street from the mountain. Kaldur lived in freaking Atlantis, for crying out loud. Wally lived in Keystone City, which is way farther from Gotham than Central City (where he usually works as Kid Flash). And Artemis, well I don't know where she lives, but I don't think she'd really care that I'm another depressed little rich kid who decided to take up crime fighting as a hobby. In fact, I think she'd just get a little more annoyed with me then forget about.
I have to admit, my logic is pretty flawless, even though I've only known these people, excluding Robin, for a few days' time. I had secretly been analyzing them, assessing them not only in combat but in social interaction. They were good, normal people, well, as normal as super powered teenagers with a ton of responsibility could get, at least. A strange little part of me felt guilty for spying on the people I was starting to think of as friends. But that was how Batman had taught me to work: assess the strengths and weaknesses of everyone you meet. It doesn't matter who it is, it doesn't matter where you are. Being prepared is the number one priority when you only have your intelligence and your skills on your side. And for Bruce you could never be too prepared. For anything.
Like the time I had stayed the night at Wayne Manor because I'd been there as the lone student of Batman's Boot Camp. Bruce would train me from 7 am to 10 pm with minimal breaks in between. I'd gotten up one morning at 6, knowing that early riser Alfred would already have breakfast ready. I soon found I was right as I seated myself at the formal dining table, because I could. There was already a wide assortment of delectable looking breakfast foods, most of which especially delicious looking to me because our dear Alfred had taken into account that I was a vegetarian and fixed me a few special dishes for all of the meals. I had just begun to dig into my pomegranate and granola cereal with strawberries when Bruce runs in, half dressed with only a ratty pair of sweatpants on.
I'm innocently eating my breakfast as he glares at me and announces (none too kindly, and in his Batman voice) "Joker has a Catholic School held hostage, suit up" before running back out of the room, presumably to the Batcave. I'm up in a flash, running as fast as I can to the secret entrance to the underground caverns. I use the stairs in the study that lead down to the cave, taking them three or four at a time, wishing my stride was longer. In seconds I'm in the Batcave, sprinting across the stone floors, past the Bat-computer and Bat-mobile to the uniform closet, where my owl suit resides while it waits for me to return to "work".
In about 47 seconds flat I'm dressed, slipping on my Bat-boots (as I affectionately call them) and my cowl, running back out to the main stretch of cave, looking around frantically for Batman and Robin. They're nowhere to be seen, but I don't think anything of it until I hear a slow clapping coming from above me. It's difficult to locate the source of the sound due to the echo of the cave, but I eventually pinpoint Bruce and Dick standing on one of the upper levels of the Batcave, Dick grinning down at me as Bruce gives a little smirk. It then clicks that there is no Joker problem at any Catholic School (if there are even any Catholic schools in Gotham). This was a test, and judging by the not disappointed looks on Bruce's and Dick's faces I assumed that I'd passed. That didn't make me happy about it, though. I stalked off in full Owl suit, ignoring the both of them for the rest of the day to assure that I got even.
Recalling the memory felt odd, considering that it felt like it happened such a long time ago, though it was only a few weeks back. Being in Mount Justice was causing me to lose track of time, of the days. Since I hadn't seen the sun or the moon or the stars all the days sort of jumbled together, leaving me to solely rely on the computer systems in the Mountain for my personal calendar. I was usually a pretty independent person. I mean, I'd almost single-handedly taken down Fincher, with minimal assistance from the Dynamic Duo (I know that's an exaggeration, but shut up, ok?). Since Selina had been gone or disappeared, I'd taken care of the bills for the apartment and managed to feed the cats and myself while also doing almost all of my schoolwork and going out as Owlet at night. There was no argument; I could indeed take care of myself, on the normal basis. But a gun-shot to the stomach? I'm not even sure if Batman could 100% take care of himself after that. For his injuries he usually has Alfred to aid him, anyway.
I pushed all the uneasy thoughts of almost betrayals and past memories away, focusing on the note once more. This note and this cat were the only solid pieces of evidence I had that Selina was now back in Gotham, back at our apartment even. She'd been gone for so long, it was odd to think that she could really be back, that if I made my way back to Gotham, she'd be there in her lounge chair in the tiny living room, a black cat purring in her lap as she sipped at her mostly milky coffee and watched the evening news for reports on Batman. The thought made me smile a little, hoping that she wasn't injured from wherever she'd been. Part of me had thought that she was just taking a little extended, spontaneous vacation, while another part of me wondering if she'd been kidnapped (or really Cat-napped) and needed someone to come and help her out. Of course, she was probably just on a personal mission, like she usually is. I'm used to her disappearing for a few days at a time, but how long had it been now? Two weeks, almost three?
It was about then that I decided I would go and visit Selina, see if she was really back at the apartment, tell her how much I'd missed her then give her the third degree of interrogation like I was some worried parent. The role reversal of kid and adult humored me, but only enough for a small, grim smile. If something was up with Selina and she wasn't telling me, she could be in trouble, and that trouble could ultimately lead to me, with one or both of us eventually getting killed. It may seem like a harsh way to think about it, but in a world like we live in, harsh is the only option.
I got up with the cat cradled in my arms, making my way to my room silently. The brown cat didn't fidget as I walked; only obediently waiting until I was ready to put it down. Somehow that cat knew when I needed something to hold onto, something to act as an anchor when everything else was far too crazy to comprehend. And this cat didn't seem too unhappy to be my anchor, at least not now, and not earlier. The walk to my room didn't take too terribly long, and once I was inside I set the cat on the bed, swiftly walking to my dressing drawers and slipping out of my pajamas and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie. I looked normal enough for a teenager, especially a teenage superhero. But that was what I was going for, so all was well.
The hard part was going to be sneaking out of here. Sure, Mount Justice wasn't like a military base; it definitely wasn't the most heavily guarded place I'd ever ben to, but it still had security. And I'd have to find a way to get past that security if I wanted to get out of here and see Selina. I could've knock-out gassed the entire place then used the zeta-tubes, but that would be mean. Wally hadn't done anything particularly rude to me, and I doubted Black Canary would appreciate it very much, as well as Connor and Megan. So knock out gas was out. There was always persuasion, trying to get Wally to run me to Gotham, but I didn't know how I'd shake him once I got there, or how I'd explain why I was in Gotham without giving away my secret ID. I groaned and flopped onto my back on my bed, staring up at my ceiling in frustration.
It was then that I saw it, the 2 foot wide opening in the ceiling, covered by an easy to remove grate. It was the air conditioning duct, and I had seen the specs for it on the computer. The ducts ran literally all through the mountain, because when there were people occupying the mountain, it was usually nice to have it warmer than 50 degrees all the time. And in case of an emergency regarding some sort of spilled gas inside the cave, the air ducts led outside in a few spots. If I could find my way to get out of one of those exits, I could make my way to Happy Harbor and catch the afternoon bus to Gotham City.
Sure, it wasn't the best plan in the entire world, but hey, it was all I had at the moment. And it was going to have to work. So I pulled my single desk chair over under the grate. Thankfully in the bedrooms of Mount Justice the ceiling were relatively low, so someone with as short stature as I could still reach up and undo the weak attachments at the corners of the grate. In less than a minute the grate was off the opening and on the floor. I began pulling myself up into the dark 2 by 2 foot hole in ceiling, scratching my arm on a sharp piece of metal that I couldn't find the source of. But I was in, slinking through the dark and dusty ducts for what I knew was only half an hour or so though it felt like hours and hours. After too many wrong turns and dead ends I had finally made it to an exit. And though luck hadn't been on my side while I was trudging through the air ducts, it was as soon as I had exited the mountain, seeing that I had actually found my way to an exit on the correct side of Mount Justice, the side facing Happy Harbor.
I did run into the slightest bit of unluckiness. The grate separating me from the outside did not want to come off easily. Which I suppose made sense. The bolts on this one should be stronger, so that weather didn't break it off, or that wild animals wandered into the mountain, or even so that people, good or bad, didn't find their way into our headquarters by way of the air ducts. With a bit of creative contortionism, I managed to turn myself around so that my feet were positioned by the grate. With as strong a kick as I could muster in such cramped quarters, I tried to break the grate off. It took a few times but I managed to get it off, working up quite a sweat while doing so. I slid out of the air duct, knowing that now inside the mountain there'd be some type of alarm going off to alert everyone to the possible breach of security. I didn't care though. I was only a few minutes away from Happy Harbor if I took it at a run, and I wasn't about to miss my opportunity.
I had almost began to run with my cowl on when I realized that I was still hiding my identity quite uselessly. I slipped the cowl off, throwing it to the ground by the discarded grate, shaking my hair out and pointing my face toward the slowly setting sun like a flower would after being kept inside too long. And then, like a Flash would, I set off at a sprint, rushing as fast as I could down the hill to the little town.
After the three hour long bus ride to Gotham, I had managed to make my way to the apartment, which was once again empty, like it always seemed to be whenever I returned these days. I couldn't help a sad little sigh from escaping me as I saw that nearly nothing had changed in my almost week long absence. I could see the evidence that Selina had been here, though. A few more dirty dishes in the sink, her recliner had been left kicked open, and the mail had been haphazardly thrown onto the coffee table, days of bills piling up. I made my way over to the mail stack, seeing a thick envelope lying on top of a big stack of bills. One look inside and I saw that it was a good amount of money that was no doubt for all of the bills. I didn't want to know where Selina had gotten the money, and I was sure that if I didn't ask questions I wouldn't get any unwanted answers.
Among the bills and spam, however, was a single letter addressed to me from Gotham National Bank. It was dated less than a week ago, the day of my birthday, March 27. Curiosity overtook me. What could the bank want with me on my birthday? I sliced the letter open to see a formal note. I read over it once, my jaw dropping farther open with every word. When I finished the letter I reread it, over and over again, still not believing what it was trying to tell me. And instead of giving you the dull version, I'll give you the summary: Hey Mona, now that you're 16 you can come down to the bank and get this lock box that your parents left for you in their will that they never told you about! Also enclosed in the letter was a silver key that I was told would open the lockbox. It didn't take long for me to high-tail it out of the apartment and to downtown Gotham City where Gotham National resided.
It was at least 5:30 in the afternoon, too late for lunch, too early for criminals, though neither point really concerned me. Selina's apartment wasn't all that far from the bank, so I was able to walk the distance without a fuss. I carried nothing on me besides the key to the lock box hidden inside my parent's bank vault.
Once I'd gotten to the bank they immediately serviced me, rushing to verify that I was indeed now 16 and able to access what my parents left to me. They brought out some legal forms and after I signed them I was able to walk out of the bank, lock box in hand. The metal felt cool on my skin as I held it tightly to my body. I wasn't going to let this box out of my sight, not only because what lay inside could possibly aide my future in the world of crime fighting, but mostly because it was the last and only thing my parents had left for me. The house was gone; all our memories there destroyed in the fire that robbed me of the two people I loved most in the world. All I really had to show for being the daughter of two not only brilliant scientists, but amazing people, was the billions lying in their bank account, waiting for me to turn 18.
I brushed the thoughts away, along with a matching tear that had dared to make its way down my cheek. There was really only one private place I could go: the orphanage, my home for two years. A few months or so after I had been taken on as Selina's ward, the city council had declared the establishment "unfit for the homes of today's youth" and shut the place down. The teenagers were sent to various foster families and other orphanages around the area. I heard that some kids had to go as far as Blüdhaven. I mused on the thought that if Selina hadn't adopted me as her ward, I probably would've had to go to Blüdhaven, considering I was one of the older teens. It would've been interesting to see how much more different my life would've been. Would Owlet still exist? Would she have a need to exist? It was hard not to think about all the different things that could've gone differently as I finally ended up at the abandoned orphanage. It was dark and boarded up at the entrances, but not very well. They'd left the windows unscathed, even the window I'd leave unlocked for my midnight adventures as Owlet. I slipped inside easily, muscle memory setting in as the awkward angles of pulling myself into a window became familiar. The hallway I stood in was dark and cold with disuse; dust thick on the floor with spider webs decorating the ceiling above.
"Home sweet home," I mocked, quietly making my way to my old room. It looked exactly as I'd left it; bare and boring, a room no one obviously cared about. But why would anyone have a reason to? This place was a dump, dirty and creepy and in the wrong part of town. Despite the thought, I sat heavily on the uncomfortable spring mattress that I'd slept on for two years. It gave out a puff of dust in greeting.
I wasted no time, opening the box with its matching key. The lid popped open satisfactorily, and I eagerly opened it up, hoping desperately that whatever was inside could actually help me. The box was inlaid with protective black foam with 6 different syringes nestled inside. They each contained odd looking liquids, but I tried not to dwell on that too much. It would probably just psyche me out from what I needed to do. There were no instructions or explanations in the box, but living with my parents I knew it was all completely straightforward. I'd seen experiments in progress from the moment they started to the final ending. I knew how this process went. Almost all of the experiments my parents conducted were through the use of special chemicals and mixtures in quaint little syringes, ready to be injected. It was all glaringly straight-forward, but that didn't make it any less hard to do.
It was a crazy, stupid idea. An idea that no sane person would ever try. An idea that made the small bit of common sense I had scream in abhorrence. But it was an idea that I had to try. As a part of the Young Justice team, I was practically useless. I was a human with the power of flight, only in good circumstances. I wasn't the best fighter and I didn't have any weapons besides those in my utility belt. If I didn't do anything to change that now, the Team and Batman would just think of me as a failure, an outsider that just couldn't step up to the plate when she really needed to. As Mona Ryder I will admit that I fail quite a bit. But once that owl suit goes on and that trademark cowl is slipped over my head, I am Owlet, and Owlet doesn't make mistakes. Not anymore.
So to ensure Owlet wouldn't make any more mistakes, I had to do something about it all, I had to take actions and make myself responsible for them. I had to find a way to make Owlet indispensable to the Team. And the only way to do it was to find out what this box of experiments my parents had left could do for me.
I took the first syringe on the left from its spot, trying desperately to ignore the fact that none of these substances had ever been tested on anyone. I had no idea how they would affect me, of what they were supposed to do. Inside the vial was a slightly orangey brown colored liquid like iodine. If I'd seen it in the light I'm sure it would've been about the same color as my eyes. A small label in the side identified it only as "Owl." A smile curled on my lips. If I'd believed in coincidences I would've laughed, but there is no such things as coincidences in a world like ours. There is only fate and destiny, and what they have planned out for you. I uncapped the needle, rolling up my sleeve and taking a deep breath before injecting the fluid into my veins, pushed it from the syringe until all of the orange had disappeared from the container. Gradually a hot, burning sensation spread through me, travelling with my blood. The pain was near excruciating, but compared to all I'd been through as Owlet, it was almost nothing, especially my still healing bullet wound.
I sat there in the dark, waiting for the injection to do its job, gritting me teeth in pain, occasionally biting my lip until the skin broke when it was especially hard to bear. When the pain subsided I ceased the squeezing closed of my eyes, blinking them open to the darkness. Everything was in such sharp detail, like someone had flipped a light on in the room though I knew the electricity hadn't worked for weeks now. With quick feet I fled to the bathroom down the hall, supporting myself on the rim of the sink with my hands as soon as I got in there. I was breathing heavily though I didn't quite know why, my short-breathiness accompanied with a sheen of cold sweat across my skin though it was only getting cooler outside. I managed to gain enough courage to look at my reflection in the mirror, my breath catching in my chest as I saw what had changed. My usually golden brown eyes were now practically glowing in the dark, a bright, butterscotch gold. At first I couldn't possibly believe this was me, but as my reflection blinked in time with me. I couldn't believe the outcome, I had expected the change to be completely internal, but it was completely obvious to anyone who'd see me at night that my eyes were now practically glowing gold.
"God grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change," I muttered under my breath, not quite sure where I'd picked up the words but knew they fit here well. Nobody in my family had ever been exceptionally religious, but I'd gone to church a few times, it wasn't like I didn't even know who Jesus Christ was.
I gave another look in the mirror, not quite sure how I liked the change. The gold eyed made me look more primal, more elemental. I wasn't used to that look on me. I was usually angry or apathetic these days. But never threatening. Owlet wasn't typically connotated as a threat, and as I'd learned to work at being Owlet, I'd come to expect the underestimation of my foes. It usually proved to their downfall in the end.
But would that initial assumption still stick to me even after this change? Would my girlish charms overcome the primal look and matching instincts? I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I was on a team now. It didn't matter what I was thought of as an individual anymore. If Owlet was going to be of any use to the team of young heroes she'd have to have indispensable qualities, and these injections were the only way of achieving that. It's not like I was randomly going to get super powers or become a master acrobat like Dick or an amazing archer like Artemis.
"But I can give myself some help, and nobody has to know." The softly spoken words that were silently uttered from my lips were all the reassurance that I was sure I'd need. I took a deep breath, wiping some cold sweat off my brow, shooting another look at the gold eyed Mona in the mirror. She gave me a shaky smile and I returned it as best I could, making my way back to my room and the remaining 5 vials, ready to see how else my parents could help me tonight from beyond the grave.