Heeeelllllloooooo!

There is absolutely nothing important or exciting happening in my life going on at the moment. I have a big project due (again, really should be working on that) almost done with the Hunger Games series, missing YJ, planning a funeral for whichever Young Justice character dies (yeah, the producers already said one of the team members won't survive the first season...I'm freaking depressed! Why would they tell us this? O_O I love them all...so, so much...

Fuck... I bit my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck...

In Arkham, there's only one thing worse than Stryker's therapy sessions: Recreation. Every day, I tried desperately to avoid it. I volunteered for the crappy jobs no one else wants to do: sweeping the asylum barber's shop, scrubbing out the soup pots in the kitchen, wiping dried blood off the infirmary's floor, ceiling, and walls left behind after a fight between the Masks. Anything to avoid being thrown outside at the mercy of every single psycho in Arkham.

Today, nobody wanted my help. After awhile I'd reduced myself to begging, but that didn't really do anything except take away my last vestige of dignity. I kept looking for an escape route, but guards flanked me on every side. Then there was the other patients to think about, any sign of excitement and they tended to get out of control. Besides, where would I go if I did get away? At the end of the day, I'm still a prisoner of Arkham. Until the day that changes, I have to do what I'm told.

The doors opened, someone roughly shoved me from behind and sent me sprawling head-first into the dirt. Snickering erupted from a couple guards, causing a baloon of anger to swell inside my chest. These people were criminals, and crazy criminals at that. But no one deserves to be treated this way.

I stood, brushing the dust from my scrubs and making a beeline for the very edge of the yard. I learned early that, unlike school, the whole 'head down, mouth shut' routine actually works. Arkham's residents are too caught up in their own little worlds to worry about one runty girl.

Most of them anyway.

I was half-way to my hiding spot when I felt something hook the back of my green shirt, yanking so hard I fell backwards and landed on my butt in the dirt. Assuming it was a guard, I scowled and looked up at my aggressor.

I was met by a tall, lanky figure dressed in the usual Arkham uniform. His face was sickly pale, making his forest-green hair sick out against his skin. His mouth was twisted up into a grotesque smile, his eyes were wild and dangerous.

It was the Joker.

I'd like to say I kept my cool. To tell the truth, I leaped about five feet in the air and screamed like I'd been shot. A hand clamped itself over my mouth, silencing me. I was pulled to the ground and held down until I stopped struggling. I strained my neck to the left, looking for the Joker's accomplice. Harley Quinn smiled back at me.

Oh, God, I'm going to die... I squeezed my eyes shut.

Harley let go of me, so I was able to roll over and look directly at the Joker. Somehow, it made me feel better knowing where he was. I'm not delusional, I know if Joker really wanted me dead he would've killed me already.

Nervous, my eyes flickered back and forth between the two psychos. I shifted uncomfortably on the ground, wishing I could be somewhere else. Why had I been singled out? What is it about me that makes people, specifically bullies, gravitate towards me?

"What?" I croaked, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. "What do you want?"

For some reason, Joker found that hilarious. His laughs send tremors up my spine, every inch of my skin crawled. Harley leaned against her boyfriend, giggling right along with him. Her laughs were decidedly less creepy, more bubbly than chilling, but it still creeped me out.

"What do you want?" He mimicked.

I kept my expression blank, but inwardly I was fuming. I hated being insulted, especially the Joker. Honesty, I'm impressed I managed to speak at all. There are girls my age I know that would wet their pants and start crying if they were in my position.

"What'd you do, kid?" He asked when his laugher subsided.

At first, I didn't know what he meant.

Playing it safe, I shrugged.

"You don't know?" Joker grinned. "Guess Ivy was wrong, you are crazy...Almost as crazy as me!"

With that, he took off in the other direction, laughing hysterically and waving around a spork he smuggled out of the cafeteria. Harley followed at his heels, giggling like a schoolgirl. I shivered, looking around for the guards. All the men assigned to watch us were wrestling Joker, trying to take away his 'weapon.'

I scoffed. They saw Joker pull out a harmless piece of plastic, but they didn't see him assault me? Typical.

I made my way to the corner of the yard, kneeling behind one of Ivy's rose bushes. She never saw me when she came over to tend her plants. At least, if she did see me she didn't say anything. Maybe she liked an audience, and I couldn't blame her. The way the plants went crazy when she was around them was ridiculously cool.

Technically, no ones allowed to use their powers. But the Masks have some kind of deal with the asylum, I'm pretty sure even the warden is corrupt. If I has a reputation, besides the whole arson/murder thing, I'd be able to get what I wanted too.

I touched the collar around my neck. What I wanted most was to be free. But even the Masks couldn't swing that, and their was no way I'd have the guts to even try. I shifted, wincing as the cold metal of my collar dug into the sore, bruised skin around my neck.

I wanted my collar off. Badly. I guess that's a more reasonable dream, but it's still way out of my reach.

Beside me, the plants rustled. I smiled a little, positioning my body so I could watch the show. Poison Ivy grabbed one of the branches, drawing it close to her face. A small green bud on the twig awakened at her presence, swelling like a balloon. Once it was large enough, the leaves parted and a beautiful blood-red blossom made its appearance. Ivy smiled, lovingly running her hands over the petals.

Amazing... I thought. She's evil, and kinda crazy...But that was freaking amazing...

Ivy lingered a few more moments, then went off to make her rounds at her other gardens scattered around the yard. I let out a sigh, relieved she hadn't seen me. I stood, walking around the row of plants to the newly-blossomed flower.

I looked around quickly, assuiring myself I was alone. I reached out, closing my fingers around the base of the stem. In one quick motion, I plucked the flower off the bush and cradled it with two hands. I fingered the blossum for a moment, running the velvety flower over my cheek. I smiled, pressing my flower to my nose and breathing in the scent. Incredible. Ivy's flowers were different than any others, but not bad different. They smelled like vanilla and chocolate, freshly-mowed grass, rainy days, and about a billion other smells that cannot conceivably be coming from a flower. Dazed, I ran over my chin.

A hand came down on my shoulder, spinning me around. I bit my tongue to stifle a scream. The woman's skin was tinted green, her long auburn hair cascaded down her back. I cringed, Poison Ivy had caught me in the act. Red-handed, I stared at her without a word. Last week a guard made the mistake of trampling one of her hydrangeas. Let me tell you, the results were not pretty. That had been an accident, I wondered what she'd do to someone who purposely touched her 'babies.'

I swallowed, hard. I guess I was about to find out.

Strangely, Ivy didn't even seem mad. The edges of her mouth were quirked upwards in something like a smile. Her hand left my shoulder, hovering dangerously close to my face. Her hand unexpectedly closed around my fingers, which still had a death grip on Ivy's rose. I flinched, back when I used to go to school, kids always told me that Ivy's skin was poisonous and could kill you if you made contact with it. I was also told that Ivy is a mutant robot created in a secret government lab, but the kid who told me that spent all his free time staring at rocks so I'm willing to bet his information is a tad unreliable.

Ivy's skin didn't burn on contact. My heart continued to beat normally, albeit insanely fast. Maybe she found me funny, a tiny girl daring to touch the great Poison Ivy's plants and decided to hold back the toxins flowing to her skin. Maybe she thought I just wasn't worth the trouble.

Ivy took the rose from my hand, smiling brightly at the little flower. She addressed me with what I thought was a mixture between intrigue and amusement, although I couldn't be sure. She reached out, brushing the hair away from my right ear. Ivy smiled again, tucking the flower behind my ear. The rose's broken stem woke up, growing rapidly and gently threading it's tendrils through my black tresses.

"There." She purred. "Lovely."

Again, I said nothing. I decided that there was something about me that people like to mess with, I seem to constantly attract bullies, phychos, and everything in between. I shrugged again, trying to make it come across as respectful as possible. I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, there was no way Ivy would let me get away with this unscathed. No way.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Ivy rolled her eyes.

"So you can wipe that deer-caught-in-headlights look off your face before I smack it off."

But you're not going to hurt me, right? I grumbled in my head.

"Look, if you're mad about the flowers..." I began.

"I could care less. Why would I want to prevent someone from admiring one of my babies?" She asked.

I dunno, Ivy. Kicks?

I shrugged, feeling the rose wiggling in my hair.

Ivy chuckled. "She likes you."

I didn't think roses had a specific sex, but I wasn't about to point this out.

"Um...thanks." I shifted awkwardly on my feet. "Do you...want something?"

Ivy's eyes glinted with amusement. "What? Just because I didn't kill you, you think I want something from you?"

I didn't miss a beat. "That seems to be the way things work around here."

She laughed at that.

"Right you are, Sparky."

I scowled at the nickname. "Sparky?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Read your file, kid. Electrokinetic. Highly unstable."

I blinked, intrigued. I didn't know there was a name for people like me, but I kind of liked it. Electrokinetic. Sounds way better than 'that psycho kid who set her apartment building on fire, killing her family in the process.'

"It also said you're a dangerous psychopath..." She shook her head. "Ridiculous. You're only thirteen."

"Damn, you know you're about the only person in the world who hasn't jumped on the 'Quinn Mallory is a nutjob' bandwagon?" I smiled.

The words were light, like her sentiment meant nothing. Inside my head, however, I was doing cartwheels and setting off fireworks. She knows I'm not insane! She believes me! I didn't even care that it was Poison Ivy, I was so happy. It was a relief, to have someone look at me and know I'm not insane. I felt like I could run a marathon.

"Killed your family, huh?" She grinned.

"Yes..." I admitted, unnerved by her smile. "But it was an accident."

"Sure..." She nodded. "Always is."

My heart plummeted into my socks, but I nodded. Might as well take any support I can get, even if it's for the wrong reasons. When you're someone in my situation, you find yourself willing to take whatever you can get.

"Speaking of accidents...you seem to have a lot of them..." She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah..." I shifted on my feet, thinking about all the times I nearly fell down a flight of stairs, or got impaled by a flying knife before the thrower was tackled to the ground.

"Just between you and me..." I lowered my voice, glancing quickly over my shoulder.

"I think someone is trying to kill me..."

"I know someone is." She replied briskly, not even trying to keep her voice down.

"Those instances where you were nearly killed? They are too coordinated, too frequent...It's just not possible to pass them off as mere coincidences."

"Thank you!" I threw my hands in the air. "Finally, someone intelligent!"

Ivy smiled, and I made myself a mental note. When it comes to Poison Ivy, flattery will get you everywhere.

"Listen..." Her voice dropped, making me lean forward in order to hear her.

"You're not ready yet, I can tell. But soon you'll be given a golden opportunity..."

She gripped my shoulder, squeezing so hard it hurt. "Don't let it slip by..."

She turned, disappearing in the midst of crazies. What had she meant by that?

I got my answer about thirty seconds later.

The side of the asylum exploded, revealing a grinning Joker and Harley when the smoke cleared. They were armed with huge, cartoonish, guns made of what appeared to be plastic. Regardless, I instantly went into survival mode. Never underestimate those clowns, under any circumstances.

A trio of dim-witted guards charged the pair. Harley pulled the trigger of her gun, releasing a fine mist into the air. The guards froze, confusion passing briefly over their faces before they started laughing maniacally and falling into the dirt. They laughed a few moments longer, gasped, then lay still. The men's eyes were stretched open, clearly dead.

I gasped, covering my nose and mouth with the front of my shirt. Was this the golden opportunity? What was I supposed to do? All hell broke loose. Psychos ran back and forth, trying to avoid the gas. Other Masks joined the party: Clayface, Black Mask, the Riddler, every crazy that parents warn their children about was now running loose in the yard.

Not thinking, I pressed myself against the fence behind me. I jumped, heartbeat accelerating to a dangerously high rate before I realized that I hadn't been turned into barbecue. Hesitantly, I pressed my hands against the fence. It wasn't on. Even with the collar on, I learned that I could sense electrical currents. Joker and Harley must've turned it off.

I examined the fence again, there was a narrow opening between the dense and the ground a few feet away from where I stood. It would've been impossible to get through if the fence has been on, and as it was I'd probably turn my back to ribbons, but...

A golden opportunity... I thought.

I stiffened.

Don't let it slip by...

I crouched by the opening, quickly measuring it with my hands. I'd fit, but just barely. Something touched my neck and I tensed, ready to swing. Luckily I stopped before my fist connected with my assailant's face.

My new best friend, Poison Ivy.

She reached out, grabbing my collar. I sat still while she removed a key from her pocket and inserted it into the notch in the center of my collar. With a twist and a yank, the collar clattered to the dirt at my feet.

I caught my breath, touching the skin where my collar used to be. I smiled, I guess I hadn't realized how heavy that thing was until it was suddenly removed. I started laughing, shooting Ivy a grateful look. I started to thank her, but she cut me off.

"Look me up, when you're ready."

I nodded, lying through my teeth. I was grateful to Ivy, but I wasn't about to trust her. Lately, I've been doing some really stupid things. Like not running when Ivy first showed her face, or touching her precious flowers in the first place, going home angry and causing my apartment to go up in smoke. Point is, I know I've been stupid. But I'm not that stupid.

Ivy moved on, leaving me alone with the fence.

I scooted closer to the hole, making it bigger with my hands. I grinned, this was happening. I was escaping. I rolled onto my stomach, using my arms and legs to propel myself under the fence. The fencing scraped my back, causing me to grit my teeth in pain.

I was about half-way through when I heard the first gunshot.

The sound echoed through the air, quickly followed by shrieks of fear and surprise. Frantic now, I pulled and kicked like a madman. Desperate to get to the other side, and no long caring about the pain, I gave one last desperate kick and was out.

I turned onto my back, just in time to see a bullet whizz over my head. I looked back into the yard, eyes matching onto a man in the center of the chaos. He wore a long trenchcoat, his face was obscured by a dumb-looking detective style hat.

I would've laughed at him, if it wasn't for the gun he held in his right hand.

Panicking, I scrambled to my feet and took off in the other direction. Past the yard's fence lay a row of guard towers and a huge gate, both of which now stood open and unguarded. The man fired two more shots, both of which miraculously missed me somehow.

I ran as fast as I could, static electricity making my hair stand straight up as my powers came flooding back. Arkham was located on the outskirts of Gotham, but thankfully it wasn't too far. Soon the sign announcing that I was now entering Gotham City appeared. I nearly cried, Gotham City seemed like a godsend after my time at Arkham.

The adrenalin rush was slowly ebbing away, forcing me to slow down. I veered into a nearby alley, my subconscious telling me to avoid the traffic. Although, considering it was Gotham, I probably wouldn't be very safe there either. I think we can all agree I wasn't thinking rationally at the moment, I found myself wondering of I may be crazy after all.

Once I was confident I got far enough away, I sank to the ground in exhaustion and rested my head on my knees. It was then the full reality of my situation hit me: I am alone. My family is gone. I have no food, money, or shelter. I'm wearing the classic uniform of an Arkham prisoner and the back of my shirt is soaked in blood, a wound that'll probably get infected if I don't get it treated. I'm trapped in a city with one of the highest crime rates in the country, where people will kill you as soon as look at you. Oh, and did I mention that everyone thinks I'm a psychopathic murderer, and will most likely devote all their resources into hunting me down?

I'm surprised I didn't lose my mind for real right there in the alleyway.

Dejected, I ran my hand through my sweaty, matted ebony-colored hair. My palm connected with something soft, knocking it into my lap. It was colored bright red, and still as beautiful as I remember it. The edges were a little wrinkled, but it was otherwise intact.

Ivy's flower.

Look me up, when you're ready.

What does 'ready' mean? I'm certainly desperate enough, but I promised myself I wouldn't get mixed up with her. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. Do I have a choice? I can't survive on my own. But Ivy...she'd turn me into a villain, I'm sure of it. The Justice League would become my enemies.

The Justice League...Oh, God... I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged them to my chest. For one, the League is made up of meta-humans and people with advanced gadgetry and years of combat training, what hope did I have against them? Plus, I always looked up to them. On Halloween while other little girls dressed up like princesses or mermaids, I dressed up like a superhero. I would race to the TV just to watch heroes fight off bad guys on the news, regardless of who happened to be watching it at the time or what time the program was on. I bought comic books based on the League's exploits. I was even part of their online fanclub for heaven's sake!

Yeah, I'm a bit of a dork, but hearing about the League's heroic deeds made everything not hurt as much. No matter how bad things were, I knew I could run off into my room and lose myself in a world of masks, capes, and spandex of varying colors. They let me know that there is such a thing as decent people in the world, even when it seemed like everyone outside my apartment were nothing but a buch of pricks.

The flower lay limp in my hand, Ivy's offer still ringing in my ears.

For once in my life, I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.

Young Justice is so close...but so far away...

Random: you can totally tell I'm running out of material...

Okay, so let me introduce you all to something I've recently discovered: Cartoon Logic. They use it all the time in Young Justice, what with the superpowers and the fact that no matter how much the team gets smacked around they all emerge intact, aside from torn clothes and the occasional broken bone (Wally) the fact that Artemis doesn't run out of arrows until the point she actually says she's running out of arrows. More subtle moments happen during moments like Terrors, why didn't Megan just turn invisible and hide out in Senior's cell to learn about the plot? Wally and Robin hang out, Wally knows Rob's secret ID. Why doesn't Wally see Artemis at Rob's school, learn her last name, and just fucking Google that shit?