Reply to Ninja645: Thank you! I'll let the story reveal the world, but this is a crossover of both settings.

Batgirl Beyond #3

Cover: Taylor stands wearing a white tee shirt and gym shorts, her long dark hair extending down to the small of her back and her hands clenched in determination. She is facing a stark white corridor with white panels held up from below by mechanical arms in the form of steps. At the top of these steps is a transparent blue symbol of a bat with its wings stretched.

+JLL+

The gym was massive. The entrance area had changing rooms with lockers and, changing rooms and showers. This area had floors tiled in neutral grey with white on the lower halves of the walls and black on the upper halves with neutral grey ceilings and blue-white LED lights set in it at regular intervals. The lockers were grey, as were the dividers for the six changing rooms and six showers. It seemed unisex, giving me pause as Dick walked up to one of the lockers, which I noted were much slimmer than the old, boxy ones in Winslow, and opened it.

Dick pulled out a t-shirt and shorts from one of the lockers. "These in your size?" he asked me.

I took them and looked. "They're a bit big but they should fit. Um. Don't these belong to someone?"

"Bruce loves to be prepared," Dick replied, "and I picked it up too. When I decided to show you around I found some surveillance footage of you and estimated your size."

"What?" I asked, taking a step back, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Wayne security systems automatically track physical features in order to help identify and track intruders, particularly Strangers," Bruce Wayne clarified from where he stood at the exit of the entry area. "He didn't actually use it though. Those are some of Helena's old clothes from when she was around your age. You'd know her better as Huntress."

I looked at the shirt I was holding in my hands. This belonged to Huntress? One of the legendary Bat Family? That I was about to be a part of?

And she had a better figure than me?

Damn it.

I shouldn't have cared about that, but it irked me, just a bit, especially since it was one of Emma's favorite criticisms. She had been my friend just months ago and it still hurt.

"Something wrong?" Dick asked.

"Just thinking about the shirt," I replied.

"If you're going to be my apprentice, you can't hide important things from me," Bruce Wayne replied gruffly.

Dick barked a laugh. "Did you grow a sense of humor in your old age?"

"It must have stuck to my fist when I was punching Lung's teeth out."

Dick laughed again. "Now I know why you're doing this instead of trying to pawn her off on us like you did Amy," Dick said cheerfully. "You want a replacement that's a dour as you were; only you're running out time with that new sense of humor."

Bruce Wayne just leveled a silent stare at Dick, who shrugged it off and turned back to me. "Well, the point is that if it's something important you should tell us," Dick explained. "As hypocritical as that might sound coming from us to those who know us better, it's the truth. We have experience dealing with pretty much every conceivable situation, so we can help out and we want to help out."

I nodded and drew in a deep breath. They might not have experience with something like Emma's betrayal and her bullying, but they had dealt with worse and they really were putting a lot of trust in me by bringing me in. "It's just that seeing the shirt reminded me of a former friend."

"Oh?"

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, my eyes drifting away from theirs. "I don't know why, but after I came back from summer camp she had a new friend and she said that she didn't want to be my friend anymore and…" This was more painful to say than I expected.

I looked up when Bruce Wayne put his hand on my shoulder, sympathy in his eyes. "What happened?"

"When school started I tried to talk to her, but she started saying really nasty things like she had only been my friend out of sympathy." I rubbed my wet eyes. "Then her and her friends started picking on me and pushing me…"

Dick sucked in a deep breath. "Alright, not that experienced with helping people being bullied. It's been a while since I last had to deal with that." He was silent for a second. "We're familiar with betrayal too though."

"Yes," Bruce said. "Would you like to be transferred? I don't want this interfering with your training."

Who had they been betrayed by? I looked at his stony face and shook my head. "I want my friend back."

"Sometimes you can't," Dick replied. "Are you familiar with Teen Titans? They're a group I used to run with them back in the sixties and seventies. One of our members turned out to be a spy and a traitor and tried to bury us under a mountain. Sometimes you can't get your friend back no matter how hard you try."

I looked down at the shirt in my hands.

"If she's turned on you then its better you move past it," he continued, "you're a hero now. So what if she doesn't like you anymore?"

I thought about it silently for a minute while they silently waited for my reply. "It feels like I'd be giving up though," I finally said. "Giving up on my friend, admitting that her bullying has won."

"You can't win every fight," Bruce Wayne said, surprising me. "It can just as important to know when to regroup as it is to know when to retaliate. I didn't survive all these years by picking every single fight I could. This is your first lesson: Know that you can't always win, and sometimes it's not worth the cost of winning. You have more important things to do than try to rekindle your friendship with a girl who has decided that she prefers to bully you."

When he put it like that… he was right. I was about to start training to be a super hero, without any powers to help me. I was going to be saving lives and fighting villains like Lung, or maybe even the Joker, who wouldn't hesitate to kill me. In that light, staying in Winslow and trying to get Emma to see sense wasn't worth it. I met Bruce Wayne's eyes and nodded. "…You're right. If you can help me with the bullying, I'd appreciate it."

"Good," Bruce said, "there are two options for you: face the bullies and stop them, or transfer out. If you face them you'll have to know how to fight, and accept the consequences. Do they know how to fight?"

"One of them, Sophia seems like she does," I replied. "She can hit pretty hard and put me in a hold."

"Neither of us likes bullies, but if we're going to need to train you how to fight them while you suffer their harassment, it could hurt your training," Dick said.

"'We?'" Bruce Wayne asked. "You're going back to Bludhaven."

"I'll visit when I can, as will the others when they hear," Dick replied, "and my point still stands. As much as I'd like to help you knock some sense into them or make sure they get appropriately punished, it wouldn't help your training to deal with them in the meantime."

I did want to make them stop; I could imagine seeing their faces when I used my training to stop Sophia from pushing me or trying to take my lunch. But on the other hand, I could tell Bruce and Wayne and Dick expected the training to take a while and I didn't want to deal with the three of them in school while I waited until I was ready. I wanted that final confrontation where I stopped them and made Emma see sense, but I was going to be a hero. I had more important things to do. I inhaled deeply and nodded. "I want to stop them, I want them to be punished... but… you're right. If Emma would rather be a bully, then I have more important things to do." I met Bruce Wayne's eye again. "If you can arrange it, I'd like that transfer."

"It will take a week to file the paperwork," Bruce Wayne replied levelly.

Dick hummed. "We could see about catching recordings of their 'activities,'" he mused, "get them suspended as a going away present. It would be good training for surveillance and any undercover work you need to do."

I smiled. "Thanks, that sounds like a good idea."

"Before we get started with any training or operations, we need to see what you're capable of now," Bruce Wayne interrupted. "Get changed and meet us in the danger room," he ordered before turning around and walking towards the doorway from the entrance area to deeper into the gym.

"Danger room?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"Don't worry, you won't get seriously hurt," Dick assured me unhelpfully before he too left for deeper into the gym.

With growing trepidation I went into a changing room and exchanged my clothes for Helena's old clothing. It had clearly hugged her figure when Huntress wore it, but for me it was loose in some areas and annoyingly tight in others. Tugging at her clothes that I now wore, I decided that I needed to bring some of my own if I was going to be training here. That way I wouldn't have to wear this again.

I quickly made my way past the lockers and to the gym proper, to see Dick and Bruce Wayne standing in a booth with a console. The booth was had clear walls with a fine black hexagon grid on all sides with a metal bar for the door handle on both sides of its transparent door. The console was large, about three feet wide by two feet tall, and it had two screens and a long keyboard with what looked like a large variety of buttons in addition to the normal keys of a keyboard. Six chairs were positioned inside the booth and I noted that there were also three large screens anchored to the ceiling above the booth. Dick gave me a friendly wave from inside.

The doorway I came out of was actually slightly to the side of the much wider room and connected to a grey carpeted area all along this side of the room and extending out for about twenty feet. This area had walls and a ceiling of the same color scheme as the entrance area, and along its walls were racks with a variety of equipment ranging from nightsticks to swords to grappling hooks and what even looked like a missile launcher. There were also suits of various kinds in chambers that looked like elevators with clear doors. Presumably these were set up so that labs could easily send in their equipment for testing.

On the far left wall of the grey carpeted area was another doorway through which I could see familiar looking exercise machines, though some of them seemed to have larger than expected weights attached. Since this was the same sort of equipment that the Justice League used, I supposed that made sense.

The rest of the room was sixty feet wide by what looked like over a hundred feet, though I had trouble judging the distance due to its stark white color scheme with faint lines separating tiles. It looked like each tile was five feet by five feet across.

"Okay, Taylor," Dick said from inside the booth, I could see his finger was pressing one of the buttons on the console, "this is where things get fun. For me at least, anyway. I don't imagine you know how to use anything here, so you can take the quarterstaff – it's the long white stick – or just step on the green square to begin." With that, he pressed another button and one of the tiles in front of me turned green.

I looked at the square in apprehension.

"Don't worry; this is just a test to see how well you do so we know what to improve the most," Dick assured me. "I promise to only have a little fun with this."

I turned to look at the quarterstaff resting on a nearby rack. I had a feeling that I should bring something with me. That white area didn't look threatening, but I was sure something would happen as soon as I stepped on the green square.

"Don't bring a weapon you don't know how to use," Bruce Wayne told me.

I steeled myself and nodded. It was just a test. How bad could it be?

As soon as I thought that I winced. "Don't tempt fate, Taylor," I admonished myself.

"You don't need to worry about that Taylor," Dick replied jovially. "After all, I'm the one running this test and I know what I'm doing." A distinctly shark-like grin spread across his face.

"That doesn't make me feel better," I replied. I walked up to the edge of the grey carpet and looked at the square warily. Nothing happened, so I stepped on and braced myself for whatever Dick had in store.

I waited, tense as the two of them watch from the safety of the booth. Nothing continued to happen.

Eventually I turned to them and demanded, "Well?"

Then tiles on either side sprang up to form a wall. I could see others in the floor and ceiling doing the same all over until the new walls blocked my view. It took me a moment to realize what was going on: the tiles had formed the walls of a maze.

"Complete the course as fast as possible," Dick said through the speaker system even though I couldn't see the booth anymore. "You can surrender at any time, of course. Just remember that we're recording this and we'll be showing it to the others."

"Not going to happen," I replied.

Dick started laughing. "Good luck kid."

Then the tiles of the floor and the ceiling in front of me started moving towards each other so that they formed steps that approached each other until they came almost together. From where I stood it looked like I would have to crawl through the tunnel the tiles formed. Each "step" was about a foot in height with ten steps until the tunnel, which was about two feet high from what I could tell. From my angle it looked like the tunnel was a few tiles long, so about fifteen to twenty feet.

A holographic timer appeared slightly above and to the side of me and started counting.

I drew in a calming breath and stepped on the first tile. Suddenly it jerked upwards and I stumbled forwards before it jerked down, sending me sprawling onto the tile and nearly catching my chin on the tile forming the next step up. The tile continued to jerk up and down, but I managed to keep balanced on my hands and knees. I was starting to feel a bit sick, but I slowly climbed to my feet and managed to keep my balance before making my way to the next tile and grabbing onto it. That tile started to rise towards the ceiling slowly while the tile I was still on continued to jerk.

I quickly clambered onto the second tile as it rose and then began to make my way to the third tile as the second passed it on the way up, gradually and worryingly gathering speed as it did so. As soon as I touched the third, it started to sink with increasing speed like a mirror of the first tile.

Already panting, I ran to the fourth tile jumped onto it before the third had time to drop more than a foot. I was ready for this one to move up or down, but I wasn't ready for it to tilt back towards the third tile. Surprised, I lost my footing and had to scramble forward to keep from falling off. By the time I grabbed the lip of the tile's far edge it was already at a forty-five degree incline. I quickly climbed onto the next platform, gasping for breath. I wasn't used to this kind of physical exertion at all with only my summer camp experience to help me and I could feel my heart pumping as adrenalin rushed through my veins.

I didn't have time for more than a gasp or two before the tiles forming the walls backed up slightly and the fifth tile, the one I was on currently, began to spin. It was slow at first, but I knew it would only increase in speed. I pushed myself to my feet and ran to the sixth platform, tripping when I reached it and stumbling. When it didn't so much as twitch I looked around and saw that the tiles to either side forming the wall were closing in. A part of me knew that Dick wouldn't crush me, but seeing them close in after everything else the other tiles had done overrode that part of me with fear. I jumped to my feet and sprinted, jumping onto the seventh platform and running across it as fast as I could before it could do anything, but I wasn't fast enough as it started to tilt to the right side and I saw the right wall tile start to close like a bear trap. Righting myself, I ran as fast as I could and leapt onto the eighth step and leapt again before it could do anything.

I flinched and dropped to the floor when a translucent blue buzz saw appeared in front of me and flew through where my head had been just a second ago. I got to my feet as giant translucent blue propeller blades appeared at the edge of the tile and started spinning. At first I thought they were just holograms, but then I felt the air being sucked into them and saw my hair drawn in by the air current created by the blades which a second later were already spinning fast enough to be a blue blur. And then the propeller started coming after me.

I jumped back with a shriek and spun around so that I could focus on getting to the next tile, only to see the buzz saw appear in front of me again. I ducked with another scream as it whizzed through where my head had been and before the propeller could reach me I sprang forward onto the tenth tile.

Not wasting a moment, I scrambled to the tunnel and started to clamber in before the next trap could go off, only to freeze when I realized that the ceiling panels for the tunnel were rising into the air in alternating patterns. A second later I saw the tile second ceiling tile for the tunnel slam down onto its floor tile with a bang before slowly rising again.

I yanked my fingers out of the way of the first ceiling tile with a yelp. "Are you crazy!?" I screamed at Dick and Bruce. "You could kill me with this!" I glared about me as I crouched on the last step before the tunnel, which only left four feet for between the elevated floor and lowered ceiling.

"Being a hero is dangerous and threats could come from any direction at any time," Bruce told me.

"You need to be able to think on your feet and react in seconds," Dick agreed. "However, this is your first time so we can get rid of the timed crushing ceilings this time if you want." The whirring of the propeller blades began to get uncomfortably close as the first ceiling tile hit the floor tile with a bang and resumed its slow assent.

I only had a few seconds before I had to move, but it looked to me that the second tile was about halfway up and the third tile was just about to come down, while the fourth one was a quarter of the way up. I was already tired, but I wasn't going to admit defeat just yet. I scrambled on top of the first ceiling tile as it rose, standing next to the mechanical arm that held it and then jumped down onto the second of the tunnel's floor tiles just as the third ceiling tile slammed down. As it started to rise I stepped on and ran off of it and under the fourth tile.

Unfortunately I ended up running into open air before I could stop myself and fell four feet into a net that hung over a twenty foot square area walled by tiles. Below, the arms that moved the tiles were exposed for me to see as they held the tiles to the sides and four arms held up the net. On the far side of the area I could see one tile forming a ledge to continue past, one half of a tile up from the edge of the net. I'd have to climb up the three and a half feet to get over the ledge. Not too hard.

Then the four arms holding the net started to move up and down in pattern, creating wave-like motions in the net and sending me tumbling before I could even get a firm grip on the net itself. One of my arms got tangled in the net and it yanked on me painfully when I went tumbling away. Gasping in pain I grabbed onto the net with that arm and used my other hand to get a grip as well. I then readjusted my grip while the net seesawed until I was as comfortable in my ability to move forward as I could reasonably expect. As soon as I started forwards again, the tiles at the back rearranged upwards and the net arms at the back began to move upwards as well, all while continuing to generate the waves.

I managed to maintain my grip while the net rearranged itself to be at about a seventy degree incline. I was glad I didn't normally get motion sickness, though this was pretty uncomfortable.

I persevered however, climbing up as quickly as I could while maintaining a firm grip on the shaking net. All I had to do was reach the ledge, which was not more than a foot above the top of the net. While holding on tightly enough that I didn't go tumbling if the net realigned itself again.

After what felt like forever and feeling slightly nauseous, I reached the top. Only for the top of the ledge to move back to its prior height above the net of three and a half feet, meaning that I would have to stretch or jump from the net to grab a hold of the smooth tile.

I was tired, I was dizzy and I knew that I'd probably lose my grip on the net if I wasn't careful. Luckily for me this wasn't a literal deathtrap and the net's 'waves' were slow, so I was able to stand on the net with my left hand gripping the top edge of the net and reach out with my right hand to grab onto the lip of the tile that was the wall of the ledge. Lucking there was a space between the top edge of the wall tile and where the floor tile just beyond connected to the wall tile.

Carefully, I let go of the top of the net with my left hand and whipped it up and over the edge to grab on before I could be surprised again. And I was just in time too, as the net started slowly lowering away as soon as I let go of it. I managed to avoid getting my feet tangled in the net as it lowered while I hung onto the ledge grimly.

I was breathing hard and my muscles were already burning, I didn't think I could hold on but I was determined to get as far as possible before I gave up. At this point I had no illusions that I could complete this nightmare of an obstacle course. I set my feet against the wall tile I was holding onto and walked up along it while holding on as hard as I could even as my fingers strained to maintain a grip. It got to the point where I felt like my arms were about to fall off from the strain of holding on, but I managed to twist just enough to get my left foot over the edge and around the lip formed by the positioning of the wall and floor tiles.

Using the last of my strength I managed to pull myself into a roll over the edge and lay curled up on the floor tile as I gasped for breath.

"That the best you've got?" Dick asked over the intercom.

I manage to say, "Sadistic… bastard."

He laughed. "Giving up then?"

I didn't say anything, instead using the time he waited for an answer to catch my breath because I knew that he would do something as soon as I said anything.

"Alright, then," he said after what felt like a half a minute.

I heard the tiles rearrange themselves around me and sat up to look around.

Behind me a sloping path led directly back to the green start tile with wall tiles along its sides. I didn't trust it, not anymore.

Ahead of me was another pit with the net, except instead of the net being on both sides of the tile I was on, it was only on one side. On my left side the wall of tiles continued with a small gap between the tiles three feet above my feet. The gap extended fifteen feet or three tiles to the next ledge, which connected to a corridor that turned a corner to my left. The net pit was completely walled off otherwise, so it was clearly just there to catch me if I fell while climbing along the edge of the wall.

My arm muscles were already aching in anticipation, or perhaps just from what I'd just been through, but I wasn't about to give up yet.

I rolled my arms and stretched while I continued to catch my breath. I didn't care about the time anymore. I just wanted to get as far as possible.

After about a minute, my breathing was under better control even though my arms hadn't improved their feeling. However, I didn't think they were going to get much better any time soon, so I crouched next to the ledge and grabbed hold of the lower lip of the gap. I then started slowly shimmying outwards, pressing my feet against the wall. The burning in my arms resumed their prior intensity and even seemed to grow as I shifted one hand to the right and then the other. At least Dick didn't do anything else to make things more 'exciting.'

Unfortunately the strain kept building. I had to cover fifteen feet. There was no way I could make it there, but I kept going anyway. I focused on just reaching the end of the first tile, if I did that then I could take a break or something. As I reached the halfway point of the first tile, I realized that it wasn't just my arms. I hadn't really been paying attention to it after climbing over the first ledge but my fingers ached as well. I'd done some rock climbing at summer camp though, so I refused to back down and slid my right hand out another foot and then moved my left and the rest of my body over to it. I reached out again and slid over, this time arriving at the end of the first tile. I sighed in relief. One tile done, just two more to go. I hung from that point at the end of the tile with both hands for a moment, taking the time to try to catch my breath again while I sweated profusely.

I slid out my right hand another foot and then moved the rest of my body to meet it and hung there again to try and rest. It wasn't comfortable in the slightest, but I needed a break. I wasn't sure I could make it to the end of the second tile.

I slid out my hand again and began to move over to it, but my left hand couldn't hold on any longer and I slipped, falling into the net with a cry as I unbalanced.

I lay in the net for a moment staring at the arm mounts in the ceiling and what could only be holographic projectors on tracks as the course shifted around me and the net again. I grabbed onto the net and pushed myself up to look around. The net was still walled in on all sides, except for a level floor tile that connected to a two-tile ramp leading up to the corridor that the ledge I had been climbing towards had been connected too. I wearily climbed off of the net and onto the platform, ready for anything.

The training course remained still.

I started walking up the ramp, glancing around constantly for something to happen, but nothing did. When I reach the corridor, I saw that it continued on to the left of the ramp's top for ten feet before reaching a wide open level area. That must be the next obstacle. Unless Dick decided to put something in the short corridor.

I mentally braced myself and jogged through the corridor, ready to jump at a moment's notice, but nothing happened yet again until I reached the room.

It was twenty-five feet by twenty-five feet wide with ten foot walls and the only exit being the corridor I just entered through, though even as I looked around the floor and ceiling tiles of the corridor rearranged themselves into another two panels for the wall.

I couldn't help thinking that I was trapped.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Welcome to the fight portion of this test," Dick informed me as holographic teal rectangles appeared on each wall of the impromptu room. "Here we've started at the lowest difficulty."

The teal rectangles suddenly had text appear forming in five rows. The top row said, "Wave: 1," the second said, "Difficulty: 1," the third said, "Unarmed: 1," the fourth said, "Melee: 0," and the fifth said, "Firearms: 0."

A translucent red figure similar to a crash test dummy or a store mannequin appeared at the far side of the room. It used the articulated fingers of its right hand to point at me before it brought its hand back to its neck for a cutting motion.

"I love Tinker tech, don't you?" Dick asked me as the holographic thug brought its fists up into a boxer's stance and started slowly approaching me.

"I should have brought the staff," I muttered, instead of loudly cussing at him.

I didn't know how to fight, and I was already exhausted. This was going to hurt.

I brought up my hands as well and decided to try and circle it by moving to the left side. Instead of turning or anything like that, it stepped forward and to its right, matching me and closing.

I didn't have long until it reached me and I was tired. How could I win?

Nothing came to mind. Even if it was a hologram and not a real person, it was taller than me by two inches and looked muscular, probably mirroring how strong the projector would make it. I didn't want to know what I'd face at higher difficulties.

It looked like it knew how to fight, so even without being taller and stronger it had me at a disadvantage.

Screw it, I thought to myself and charged, bellowing. "Raaaaaw!"

It tensed, but when I was just a few feet away I lunged at it, ducking my head as it swung at me. I hit it hard and knocked us both to the ground. I managed to recover first and brought my left hand back to punch it hard in the face. Its head bounced off of the tile floor and I hit it in the face again, my hand already hurting from the impact. I punched the hologram again, trying to imagine it as Sophia to help me, but the face I really wanted to punch right then was Dick.

"I'm going to pass this test and do this to you, Dick!" I shouted after punching the hologram again. I brought my fist back but stopped when I saw the hologram had stopped moving. Shit, I didn't kill it, did I?

I stared at the hologram in silence, before looking up at the ceiling, trying to spot whatever cameras they were using to watch.

"I didn't kill him did I?" I asked nervously.

"You broke his jaw and gave him a concussion, but he'll live," Bruce replied over the intercom.

"Oh, good," I said as I shook feeling back into my hand.

"Yes," Dick agreed, "which means it's time for wave 2."

I fell to the ground as the holographic thug disappeared, to be replaced by two more unarmed thugs standing together off to the side.

I stood up as one of them charged. I tried to roll to the side like I'd seen in TV shows, but he managed to grab ahold of my hair and yank me back towards him. I struggled to get away but the second one came up and punched me in the gut, knocking the air out of me. Before I knew it the one that had charged me held me in a headlock while the second one stood in front of me with a fist pulled back for a haymaker.

He swung his fist at me and I winced, closing my eyes. I didn't feel the hit though.

A second later I hesitantly opened my eyes to see the thug had stepped back and was fading away. The second one let go and I stumbled to my feet.

I heard a loud ding and the timer reappeared, showing nineteen and a half minutes and saying "Obstacles: 3, Opponents: 1."

"Not too bad for a first try," Dick complimented me. "Colin only did one better in the opponents and the obstacles the first time he got here. He's been improving them both since, but the ones you did were basically the same."

"Colin?" I asked between breaths, watching as the tiles reassembled themselves into a path back to the grey carpeted starting area.

"He'll introduce himself later," Bruce answered. "For now, come back here and we'll talk about your training regimen."

I nodded and started back to them.

The trip felt much shorter on the way back, for which I was thankful. It had certainly been exciting, and difficult. But, I knew it was to help train heroes – like me now, even though I still had a hard time believing that even after everything that had just happened – so I wasn't about to give up until I could complete the course. No, until I was ready to put on the costume.

I wasn't ready yet, but I knew I would be. I was counting on it.

Power Girl #1

Cover: Two young Asian men wearing blue and yellow headbands and jackets stand in front of a dark skinned woman backed against the wall of the dark alley they are all in. A trash bin is visible between them and the purple and red lit street on the other end of the alley. One of the thugs has a knife and the other is holding a handgun sideways pointed at her. All three are staring up at a blond haired teenage girl who is floating in the air above them with her hands on her hips and wearing blue and black gym shorts, a black tee shirt with a blue two on the back, and blue sneakers. She is cast in white light from above.

+JLL+

Everyone dreams of being a super hero, or sometimes a supervillain if they're feeling edgy, but they don't actually expect it to happen. Or, at least, not usually. I, on the other hand, was born into a family of publicly revealed super heroes, New Wave. They started out in the Nineties as the Gotham Brigade, but changed their name to New Wave and publicly revealed themselves in an effort to bring public accountability to super heroes. After all, it had been over two generations since the first super heroes had appeared in the world, and my Mom and Aunt Sarah felt that the Justice League was too high up on their mountain, even with Batman to rein them in. They wanted super heroes to be grounded and accountable to the people instead of sitting in judgement above them.

After Aunt Mary, also known as Fleur, got attacked in her home, the movement almost died until Oliver Queen, owner of Queen Industries, revealed himself to be the Green Arrow. Mom doesn't always agree with him on politics and doesn't like him much, but because of him there are heroes all over the US that are open with their identities, whether they're a part of the official New Wave team or not.

What this all meant for me was that I was raised in a family of super heroes, and everyone knew it. And with the way that family members of supers were likely to get powers, it was expected that I'd get one too. It would even be easier for me, after all it's said that Second Generation Triggers, and subsequent ones, are easier than First Generation Triggers.

Of course, easier doesn't mean easy. Triggers suck, by definition.

I didn't really understand that when I was younger. I knew it was bad, but I thought getting super powers out of it would make it better. From what I've seen and read, sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't.

I'd like to say that I was one of those where it did. After all, I'd spent my childhood waiting to get super powers, to become a super hero like my parents. In school we talk about what kind of super powers we'd want and but unlike them I actually knew that I'd get powers someday.

Of course, that someday turned out to not be as soon as I would have liked.

As the child of a local super hero family, I was well known and a bit of a celebrity in my classes. I attracted friends who wanted to be close to capes, and as the daughter of a super hero I was just what the other cape fans in my classes were looking for, save for the fact that I didn't have powers yet. I loved to boast about what kind of hero I would be and show them my costume designs, but as time went on my classmates started to lose interest in the cape wannabe. Some even started to resent me for thinking I was 'entitled' to having powers.

Those ones started to pick on me. It was never anything serious, but it wasn't uncommon for them to 'accidentally' bump into me or to say something mean-spirited when I came close enough to hear them.

I tried to cope by being more boastful, and by going to my 'friends' but it seemed even they were getting tired of me. That changed when some Eric and Crystal each got their powers, but when I didn't they seemed to lose interest faster each time. They didn't have the decency to say they didn't care anymore, humoring me while whispering behind my back.

Part of that was my fault; I know that, but… I just wanted friends, attention.

Being the daughter of super heroes wasn't as fun as it might sound, even with the promise of super powers at some point. My mom was always distant, when she wasn't busy. My dad was nice and attentive… on his good days… but most of the time he was depressed and distant.

I was alone.

The day I triggered, I was playing a basketball game. Mom and Dad had promised to be there, but I hadn't expected him to show. Mom had even called me an hour before the game to say that she'd be there even though Dad wasn't feeling well.

She didn't.

Not even Eric or Crystal showed up.

Nor was my crush, Dean, there.

It was like no one actually cared enough come see me.

I did my best anyway, played the part of the good teammate to make sure we won. After all, they couldn't ignore me if I was one of the best members of the team, right?

Wrong.

I tried to intercept the opposing team's pass and the girl behind me, this tall ginger, elbowed me in the side hard enough to knock me out of bounds. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch everyone on both teams rush past to my team's basket. I didn't even hear the referee do anything about it, or see my coach so much as spare me a glance. After all, I was just that arrogant wannabe cape kid.

At that point I couldn't summon the effort or motivation to get up, or even remain sitting like that. I slumped back to the floor, one thought ringing in my mind, What was the point?

A moment later, I felt dizzy and realized I must have passed out, not that anyone seemed to care.

I got up and left, not even bothering to go to the locker room. No one stopped me. Even though I saw some of them, teammates and coach included, watch me leave.

I stormed out into the school parking lot and kept going, not really caring where. It wasn't like anyone else did. Would they care if I never came back?

I shook my head. Of course they would, when they noticed.

I sighed. I didn't want to think about something so depressing. I should go. Do something fun, like shopping. That was always nice, and one of the few times I truly seemed to connect to my 'friends.' Of course they were still watching the game. I could go without them somewhere, but it wouldn't be the same. And I'd need to go back to the changing rooms to get my wallet from my locker.

Damn it. Well, at least there was chocolate fudge and marshmallow ice cream in the freezer.

I looked around to see where I was and froze in shock.

I was flying, flying. Then it hit me. I had powers, I was a parahuman.

Laughing, I focused on moving forward and up, seeing just how fast and far I could go and I shot forwards like a bullet. I flew up and over the city until I felt the chill of the night air and the clouds were just barely above me.

Then I looked down at the city below me. It was beautiful with its shining lights spread out and the mixture of Gothic, art deco and art nouveau that set her apart from pretty much every other city on or near the East Coast, heck maybe even the entire United States. For all that it had been through over the years, Gotham still retained a sense of grandeur, of weight.

Even when no one else had been around, there had always been Gotham. Just walking around the older parts of the city, you could get lost in the architecture. In those parts of the city, each building looked different, subtly distinct or stridently unique, like sweeping elegance of the Wayne Tower, the imposing presence of the Arkham Asylum or the dark grandeur of the Wayne Mansion looming on its vast estate just beyond the edge of the city proper. This was especially the case in Old Gotham and near Cathedral Square. Maybe there were cities like that in Europe and Asia, but I hadn't seen or heard anything to indicate there were other places like that here in the US.

Despite the regular grid layout of most streets, some areas were like secluded multistory warrens. For instance, there was the area around the Iceberg Lounge. It was surprisingly hard to find unless you knew exactly where you were going for a place lit up with a neon sign, even when I was flying between the buildings and skyscrapers of the city. And Gotham was filled with places like that.

I spent hours exulting in my ability to fly, exploring the city from above like I hadn't been able to before.

As I flew over the roofs of the Bowery, I couldn't help but think, They'd always disregarded me because I wasn't a cape, just some wannabe. Well, who's the wannabe now?

It was exhilarating, but eventually I began to get tired and decided to make my way back home.

However, just as I was turning away from my flyover of Old Gotham, I heard a scream for help. I stopped and turned to look. It took me a moment to place the street from the air, but it wasn't hard. The scream came from Crime Alley. If I could have flown faster I would have, rushing through the air just slow enough to avoid plowing into any of the signs, gargoyles or the tram's tracks. As I entered the alley I heard a muffled cry off to the side and instantly focused in on it, rounding a corner to see two Asian men in blue and yellow accosting a dark skinned woman. One of them had a knife out, and the other had a handgun held horizontally at her.

I narrowed my eyes and thought hard. I'd just gotten my powers, so I wasn't sure what exactly I was capable of. Crystal said it was intuitive to her when she got them, so what could I do? I could fly, but nothing else sprang to mind.

Well, I'd always wanted the Wonder Woman package, well, I would have preferred secondary powers like Superman and the Martian Manhunter, but being a "Flying Brick" was good too. And there was one thing a brick in flight was good for, and that was hitting people really hard. Specifically, hitting bad people.

"Hey, assholes!" I shouted at them, my hands on my hips as I flew above and behind them in the alley.

They turned around and the guy with the gun curse. "Shit, Cape!" He tried to aim his gun at me but I dropped down and to the left quickly, circling around so that Knifey was between us. Knifey tried to swipe at me as I came close, but his knife bounced off of me without cutting my shirt as I punched him in the face. He was knocked off his feet and bounced off the alley wall before collapsing to the ground, but I was already focusing on Gunny.

Juking up and to the right, I managed to dodge when Gunny fired his handgun at me. With the adrenalin pumping through me and feeling dramatic, I kicked his hand and with a crunch I knocked his gun away and he staggered back screaming in pain.

His pain, and the blood that followed shortly thereafter, put me off balance. I'd just crushed his hand.

"Super!" I heard someone shout behind me and I turned around to see three more of the blue and yellow wearing Asian thugs standing at the far end of the alley, having just come around the corner. One with spiky hair had another handgun; one had sickly greyish skin, thick goggle-like shades and a lead pipe – seriously, where do you get those nowadays? I'm pretty sure they aren't sold in stores – and the third had an Oriental dragon tattooed to his face, a sawed off shotgun strapped to his back and a switchblade in his hands. Tattoo dropped his knife and started to reach for his shotgun, while Spike brought up his gun and didn't hold it sideways but instead in a two handed grip like I'd seen Miss Militia use when Mom took me to the PHQ one time, and Lead Head hefted his pipe and suddenly his muscles visibly bulged, looked like he was a parahuman, or maybe a meta.

"Kill the bitch!" Lead Head shouted and I shot straight up.

Spike fired at me, the alleyway echoing with the gunshots, but I managed to dodge them as far as I could tell. Then I was directly over them and about to come down hard. I smirked as I started accelerating down, but the smirk dropped when I saw Tattoo aim his shotgun in my direction and Lead Head swung his pipe at me.

Even if I could shrug off a knife, I wasn't sure I could survive a shotgun blast so I dodged to the right and behind Tattoo, but with his sawed off shotgun he didn't need to aim much and there was a deafening roar. I felt the pellets hit me and stinging pain in my arms.

Before I could do more than flinch back, I saw Lead Head's pipe swinging at my face and everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on something hard and everything hurt. And by everything, I mean everything. There was an intense searing pain in my jaw and nose and I had aches everywhere else. When I tried to breath, the pain in my ribs was even worse than before. I tried to work my jaw and in addition to more pain I felt something grind on something else. It was bad enough that I nearly blacked out. This was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before in my life. I felt tears well in my eyes as I gasped in pain, hearing mocking voices above me though I didn't understand what they were saying.

That's the thing about unconsciousness; it typically lasts only a few minutes. You don't usually get knocked out and miraculously wake up in a hospital, especially when you're surrounded by gangbanger thugs and their cape leader.

I felt a cool metal circle press into the side of my face, right below my left cheekbone and sending pain stabbing through me. Then I heard Lead Head talking to me clearly. "You're out of your league, little girl. Did you think that as soon as you got powers, that made you someone special? That being able to fly and shrug of Charlie's knife would turn you into some stupid hero? It didn't.

"Lung's been trying to take my turf and he's failed so far, and he's a fucking rage dragon. What made you think you had a chance? Or did you just hear some stupid bitch crying out for help and think 'Hey, I have powers, I should stop those bad guys.' Do you know how many people get powers and think that just because they triggered or found some magic artifact or some bullshit like that, that suddenly they're hot shit?"

He paused, as if waiting for me, but we both knew I couldn't say anything.

"I don't know either. I stopped counting how many I heard of, and even how many I had to deal with personally over the years. You, you're nothing. That's all you'll ever be. Normally I'd string you up as a message, show that even with Lung breathing down our necks after kicking the League and New Wave's collective asses, we've still got what it takes. Maybe maim you for the paramedics. But unfortunately, you're not in costume, you're just dressed in some high school gym clothes like a total amateur. Not even a mask. If I string up your body, people won't think 'Oh, those Hanoi Ten are hot shit taking down that idiot hero,' no, they'll think, 'those damn Hanoi Ten, they just beat to death some slutty white high schooler.' That isn't the message I want to send. Right, boys?"

I heard grunts and words of agreement from people all around me. One of them spit on me, the spittle landing on the side of my face just below my right eye. They all laughed.

"So, what do you think I should do girlie? I can't do nothing with you. Well… not right now anyway. Bloody punching bags aren't my type. So, what'll it be? Let you go? Just say the word and I will."

They all laughed at that, and one of them kicked me in the gut. Luckily I didn't feel any pain from it. I wasn't sure if it was because of whatever my toughness was returning to protect me or just everything else.

"You don't care about your life either?" he asked mockingly. "Well, in that case I've got the perfect place for you. Did you know there's still vats of acid at the old Ace Chemical Plant? Don't worry, you'll get the chance to see them." He chuckled darkly and the others joined in.

I had to get out of there. I could still fly, right?

His pipe left my head and I shot into the air, my head bouncing off the pipe on my way up.

"Get her!" Lead Head shouted, and they opened fire, bullets impacting all around me. And then I felt a searing stab of pain in my side, coinciding with another gunshot. Spike.

I couldn't see clearly, there was blood in my right eye and I was dizzy, but I managed to slip around a roof just before Tattoo fired his shotgun. Even though they couldn't see my anymore, I kept flying away as fast as I could. I don't know how long I flew, just that the blurry lights and sounds of traffic all around me started to fade.

I was exhausted, I hurt everywhere and I couldn't think clearly, so eventually I settled down somewhere, I wasn't sure where, and just lay on the cold, hard ground.

I'd just wanted to be a hero, to have people look up to me and like me. Was that so much to ask?

I would have sobbed, but with my jaw and ribs broken that would have hurt too much.

Footsteps approached me, I think. But I'm not sure if I actually heard that before darkness took me again.