I wish I owned Batman and the JL. That would be cool, wouldn't it?

TUESDAY, Nov. 1, 2011

I trot lightly down the stairs and head to the kitchen. I'm wearing a dark purple long-sleeved V-neck with a thick band of silver sequins lining the neck and Los Gatos High 2014 sweatpants. My choice of footwear is a pair of black Vans. I had taken a shower last night and left my hair in several tiny braids, a trick to give my hair a crimped look. The curls bounce merrily around my face as I continue my journey to find a satisfying mug of hot chocolate: the only remedy for a headache caused by shitty weather. Like my poetry?

When I'm about twenty feet outside the kitchen, I can clearly hear the conversation that Bruce and Alfred are having, thanks to my super-hearing:

"... don't know what to say to her, Alfred."

"You could just be forthcoming about it."

"I know, but that would probably just make us both feel uncomfortable."

What are they talking about?

Oh my god.

Did he find out my secret?

Oh no.

Yeah, so I decide to panic. I lift off and fly speedily back to my room without Bruce or Alfred seeing. I have to restrain myself from slamming the door shut. I sink to the carpeted floor against the dark wood and try to calm down. After a minute I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. As they reach level ground, I can tell they belong to Alfred by the length and slight shuffle. I hear them fade down the hallway.

Oh thank Gawd.

I wait, taking a few more deep breaths before exiting my room for the second time. I retrace my steps, but this time, I enter the kitchen. I glance warily at Bruce, who is sitting at the head of the dining room table, as I reach up to grab a mug from a high cabinet. I pray that maybe he'll be too engrossed in the newspaper to talk to me, but when he gets up to put his dish in the sink, that hope shatters.

"Andromeda…" he begins. He leans against the counter. I can tell how uncomfortable he must be.

I turn around and place the mug on the granite and mirror his stance. "Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

Uh-oh. "Sure."

My guardian sighs. "Do you... cut yourself?" His eyes are full of worry, and his tone is nervous and hesitant.

What? That's what they were talking about? "No-o-o..." I elongate the word.

"You always seem to be wearing long sleeves," he reasons.

That's because of the markings on my arms- I don't want to take any chances right now, when my emotions are a bit unstable due to current events. "I may be somewhat depressed, but I'm not suicidal." I roll up my sleeves and hold my arms out in front of me. Not a scar in sight, if you don't count the bruises from me spinning sabre or rifle. "These right here are from color guard- I spin sabre and rifle. Other than that, I just get cold easily." Not a lie; I don't like the cold much.

"Okay." Bruce straightens. "Sorry. I just needed to know, Andromeda."

"S'okay." I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist. "And for the future? Call me Andy."

WEDNESDAY, Nov. 2, 2011

I frown at my mechanical pencil. My last piece of lead just broke. Ugh. I search my desk, but find nothing. Maybe Bruce has some... I leave my bedroom and silently make my way to Bruce's study. When I grow close enough, I can hear him arguing over the phone.

"…stop bothering me about this? I'm fine… I know, Kent, but you know why-… well, just tell Flash that I'm only human... I just don't want the rest of the league to find out so soon, considering how you reacted..."

I don't hear the rest of the conversation; I'm racing back to my bedroom. The Flash… the league- no, capital-"L"-League… the Justice League!

Ohmygawd.

I grab the drawing of Clark Kent I have from the diner. I plop down in my swivel chair and turn on my Dell laptop. I open a page in Google Chrome, click "Images," and type in "Superman." I select the biggest image and zoom in on the superhero's face. I hold up my drawing to compare.

Oh. My. Friggin'. Gawd.

Why didn't I see this earlier? I must be going blind! Any idiot could see the perfect resemblance between the reporter and the hero. And Bruce! His silhouette is the exact same as Batman's- that's why the man standing up in the tent so long ago looked vaguely familiar. And, with all of Batman's expensive and high-tech gadgets, one would have to be a billionaire to fund all of the equipment!

But that isn't what's worrying me. I'm possibly plowing my touch! I usually figure these things out sooner. As I mentally kick myself, I remind myself that 1) I was focusing on currant events, and 2) I was too sad to think about it.

But should I tell Bruce? I guess he'll eventually find out anyways. I print the picture, take it and my drawing, and storm out of my room and make my way to Bruce's study. Coincidentally, Clark is discussing something- most likely the Justice League- with my guardian. I barge through the doors, interrupting the argument.

"Is something wrong, Andy?" Bruce furrows his eyebrows when he sees the stony expression on my face.

I hold up the two images side-by-side. "Try to spot the differences," I smirk. "Oh wait- there is none, Batman!"

"So you figured it out?" he asks, completely composed.

"Yeah." I turn to Clark. "It's gonna take more than a pair of glasses to hide the truth from me."

"But how did you…" the "reporter" gasps in awe.

"See, I knew your face looked totally familiar, but I'd never heard of Clark Kent before, let alone seen him. You even smiled in this way that... you know? Then I kinda figured your jawline, your cheekbones, and general features looked a lot like Superman's. I imagined you without your glasses, and I finally got it when I searched this image," I hold up the image of Clark as Superman.

"What about me?" Bruce questions.

"Everything! Your stride length, the weight of your footfall, your height, your jawline, your general figure. Also, you'd kinda have to be filthy stinkin' rich to fund all those gadgets and everything. Also, does this make Dick Robin?"

"Yes. Very acute observational skills."

I smile.

"There's something you're hiding from us," Clark announces. "Your body's heat signature is... different... from a normal human's."

I bite my lip.

No more hiding.

First, I take out my brown-colored contacts. Then I reach down my shirt and pull out the two necklaces I always keep around my neck. The first is the key to the briefcase that holds my weapons and other tools and essentials. The second is a pure heart-shaped diamond measuring about an inch and a half in height. As I hold it in my hand, it starts to glow blue from the inside. This is the necklace I mentioned earlier, the one that is the key to my disguise.

The transformation takes two heartbeats. My skin grows crystalline and looks almost transparent as it seems to glow with a sky-blue tinge. My hair turns pearly, almost iridescent or gossamer. My arms become decorated in the marks of my energy-based abilities, and the swirls that come with astral projection are revealed at the center of my forehead. I turn to Bruce, holding out my forearms for him to see.

"This is why I always wore long sleeves," I explain. "I didn't want to take any chances."

Clark and Bruce stare in awe. "I had no idea…" the latter of the two breathes.

"Well, obviously," I snap. "That was kinda the point!"

"What happened?" Clark asks. "How did you end up here?"

"I'll show you.

"Come," I instruct as I point to a spot on the rug right in front of me. "Sit." The two men follow my instructions. I move out of the chair and sit down, cross-legged in front of it, before placing my left hand at Bruce's right temple, and my right hand at Clark's left temple. The ability of astral projection also allows me to project images into someone else's mind, and this is what I plan on doing.

I first introduce them to my real mom and dad, the rulers of the small planet. I show them the plants, the animals, the landscapes and the horizon view of our two moons, Lychnus and Caelus, sharing the sky.

I then show them the modern cities: skyscrapers as far as any eye can see, hovercrafts and grand ships sailing on sparkling rivers and oceans, the mansions, cathedrals, and castles that I visited.

I share all of the technological advancements: holographic cellular phones, the dashboards of the newest airships, the computers with projected screens and keyboards. I show them every beautiful memory I have of my home. I then show them the devastating war.

I relive the fires, the pain, the death and destruction, and the feeling of not knowing whether I'd see a friend or family member the next day or not. I visualize the day the enemy had stormed the castle where I lived, of how my parents had already prepared an escape pod for me. They had set it on a course headed straight for Earth.

I give them the last image I ever saw on my planet: my parents whirling around to see several enemy troops storming through the door just as I left at the speed of sound.

I can't help myself; I lower my hands and break the mental connection. Tears flow down my face, and I look away. But before Bruce or Clark can say or do anything, I relink our minds and continue.

I start with the day my Earth parents found me. The memories of the circus and dozens of friends I've made continue after. I show Zoey, how we met and how she's still my best friend. I then reveal how I'd met two other girls later that year, both of whom grew to be close enough to me to know my secret, how they both died in suspicious car crashes a week apart, and my doubt at the fact that both of them were "accidents."

I then give the heroes my nonstop paranoia following those events, my constant worry for Zoey, the endless nights of staring at the stars or drawing a memory. I give them images of me creating the fake documents just in case, of checking on my stash of gleaming alien weapons that I used to be so, so afraid to use.

I cut to the day of my parents' deaths. I show them how Stevie looked after me right before Bruce adopted me, then how I felt so alone when he wasn't really there to do anything fun with me. I recall something Zoey said: "What's the point of him being your guardian if he isn't guarding you?" During this part, I push too hard and I feel them wince in the slight pain.

The last thing I give them is the chorus of the song "September" by Daughtry, which is probably one of the only things that kept my sanity intact for those past several days.

I lower my hands for the last time. I had kept my eyes closed for the entire second part, and when I open them, I see that both Bruce's and Clark's attempts to conceal awe and surprise have failed miserably.

I turn back to my human form. "That's everything. My entire life," I whisper through my tears. More tears fall at first, and then I start sobbing almost uncontrollably. I sit there, shaking. Suddenly Bruce is there, wrapping his strong arms around me, holding me close.

"Shh. It's okay," he whispers. "I'm here, now. I've got you, Sweetie. It's okay." He waits there for me to release all the sadness I'd bottled up, all the fear and anger.

When I'm finished, I straighten as I wipe my eyes and say, "Thanks. I... I needed that."

"Hey, it's okay, Sweetie," Bruce says softly to me. "Don't worry."

I sniffle and nod.

After a couple minutes, Clark, who was leaning against the wall, straightens and declares, "I should probably return to Metropolis. They might need me." He walks out of the study and disappears.

I turn back to Bruce. Now that I know he's Batman...

I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, my guardian interrupts. "You're going to ask if you can work side-by-side with me now, right?"

I clamp my jaw and raise my eyebrow at him like, well, can I?

"Well," he pauses, "I guess it all really depends on the level of your skill. Depending on that, I could talk to the League. They just might allow you a membership next year, on your eighteenth birthday."

"Oooh!" I exclaim.

"That means you'll have to train with me three hours a day, for six days a week."

I gape. "Exactly what kind of training?"

"Stealth, weapons, hand-to-hand, hacking, diffusing bombs, how to spot a piece of evidence, the works. Everything you'll need to become a crime-fighting detective."

"How about, two weeks of that, minus stealth and hand-to-hand, and add in powers in their place."

"No, but I'm willing to spend less time on those if you really believe that you are capable."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"Fair enough."

"Then after those two weeks, I have a test- I'm not sure how long- but I have to be able to travel from point A to point B without being intercepted by you. That part will take place at night."

Bruce mulls this thought over for a couple moments before agreeing. "That sounds fair enough."

Yeah, she did figure that out kinda fast. I wanted her to have the mind capacity similar to that of Sherlock Holmes, how he can figure out a person's height by the length of their stride, that sort of thing.

In addition, my idea for her alien form was inspired a bit by Emma Frost from MARVEL Comics and the girl Shaggy falls in love with from "Scooby-Doo and the Alien Invaders" in case you're wondering.