Chapter 4: Two Minds Over Matter

(The music for this chapter begins with "Sparkle" and ends with "The You've Got Mail Suit." Note: the end song runs long.)

I didn't see Dick at breakfast. Or at lunch. Whatever he was doing, it must have been important, because he also didn't show up at dinner.

Alfred came and went, always making sure I had something to eat, but in-between meals, it was like he disappeared. The manor felt so empty so much of the time. With no one around, I found myself singing a lot more often.

I was a little too nervous to turn on the tv, or touch much of anything after Robin's little warning, so I ended up just exploring, and when I wasn't exploring, I was back in my room reading Great Expectations. This was starting to drive me mad. I needed to do something. I needed to make something.

After lunch, while I was walking around, alone, I came to this one room that had a lot of office supplies-type-stuff. There were paperclips and pens and plenty of paper, which was all I needed. I promised myself that I wouldn't use too much and then grabbed a small stack of paper, a pen, and got to work.

Funny how focused one can get when they're completely alone and would rather keep their mind occupied on literally anything else besides the situation they're in. I'm an artist and a writer by trade, so I spent the entire afternoon brainstorming an idea for a new book—designing the characters, designing the locations, fleshing out the magic system, writing the synopsis, and then eventually just writing the actual book itself. It was incredible how far I got even just by dinner time.

Like I said, Dick didn't show up, and so I enjoyed my filet mignon alone. Dinner was the worst out of all the meals because… well, it was always the meal my family ate together. Breakfast and lunch were never a given—everyone had such different work schedules—but dinner? That was family time.

I hated how quiet the table was. I hated how empty the manor was.

I left the room before I even saw Alfred come to take the dirty dishes, wanting nothing more than to bury myself in my work again.

6:00

7:00

8:00

9:00

10:00

11:00

11:34

I wasn't actually paying attention to the clock. But I could have guessed how late it had gotten.

I was sitting on the floor, pen still in my hand, looking around the room at the mess of organised chaos I had made. There were story notes and pages of world building lore pinned on the cork-boards, bits of red string connecting some of them. The desk was piled with a stack of hand written chapters, each page numbered in case they got jumbled up, like my character sheets which I had spilled a little while ago. They were all around me on the floor, and I was using them periodically when I needed to remember what one of the characters looked like as I penned the latest chapter.

"…and she tore the pendant from around her chest, vowing that she would never again let its power consume her."

Was that good enough for the end, or did it need to be more of a cliffhanger?

I didn't know anymore. It was getting late and, if I may borrow some gaming vernacular that I had learned from my brothers, I was starting to tilt. Each line was getting harder and harder to write, each thought more difficult to conjure up, but I still wanted to keep going. I guess part of me really didn't want to go back to my empty room.

The door suddenly opened.

"There you are, Miss Brielle," said Alfred as he came in. He paused when he saw the mess.

"Alfred," I stammered. "I'm sorry—I can have this all cleaned up." I haphazardly started grabbing papers and throwing them into a pile while he came over and inspected some of the notes pinned up on the wall.

"I see you've been keeping yourself occupied."

"It's just a little project," I said, straightening the pile on the desk. "Guess I was getting cabin fever or something."

"Yes, just a little something, indeed." He scanned my notes for a while longer, lingering at some of the sketches I had included, their dark, inky lines drawing his attention. "You have quite the imagination," he commented after walking past my notes for the villain.

"Oh, it's mediocre stuff, really. I'm sure Batman's adventures are way more interesting than anything I could come up with." Truth be told, I was actually pretty embarrassed that he had seen some of my work at all. I doubted that something written in a frenzy of emotional boredom could possibly be my best work, plus it was cringy fantasy adventure stuff.

I started taking the notes down when he stopped me.

"There's no rule that says you can't use this room, you know."

"It's fine, I don't want to be a bother," I answered slowly, and finished collecting all the papers. "Goodnight."

I sighed as I walked down the hallway, using both arms to carry the ridiculously large stack of notes, book pages, character sheets, and more. So maybe I had gotten a little carried away, and I might have used just a few more pieces of paper than I told myself I would, but on the bright side, I got a lot of work done. Of course, once I got back to my room, I'd need to—

"AGH!"

I had just crashed into someone who had come from around a corner, and not only did my papers go flying, but his coffee did as well. I stood, rubbing my head and staring down at the mess of it all, knowing that there would be no way to salvage any of the stained portions.

"Sorry," the guy said, looking down at the mess and shaking drops of coffee from his hands. "You're the guest, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed, suddenly feeling like I was wearing heavy weights. Well, the papers weren't going to clean themselves up. I bent down and started sorting the ruined ones from the dry ones, thanking my past self for numbering the book pages.

"Here, let me help you," said the guy, and only now did I glance at his black and red vigilante outfit. He had this big, clunky X shaped band across his chest with a little pendant in the middle displaying his special symbol. It looked kinda like an ocean wave. But that didn't exactly track with the whole red and black colour scheme. "I'm Red Robin."

"Brielle."

So, bird themed? I guess that meant it wasn't an ocean wave, but the side profile silhouette of a robin. Or just a bird? It didn't look like a robin.

"I'm real sorry, again," he mumbled, setting the empty coffee mug as far away from the mess as possible.

"It's fine, I wasn't particularly attached to these anyway." I mean, I had only just started working on them a few hours ago. I'd hardly call it one of my legacy projects. Good thing I didn't choose to work on one of those instead.

"Do you want any help carrying them?" He offered as I stood, juggling two stacks of wet and dry pages.

"I think I got it," I said, and I started for my room again.

So… were the vigilantes all back, or was it just him? And why was he out and about in the manor by himself? Were there others down in the cave right at that moment? It was all I could think about as I arranged the papers on the desk in my room, trying not to let them stain the wood.

I played with the idea of going down there again… but… I don't know, what if I interrupted something important? What if I got in the way of something? Or heard something I wasn't supposed to hear? I just… didn't want to be a bother.

Right, well, I guess there was nothing left to do but get ready for bed. This time, as I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see that the whiteness had moved just a tiny bit. Sooner or later, every inch of my torso would be covered in it. It was only a matter of time. I sighed again as I came to terms with the fact that I needed to tell someone about this before it took a turn for the worse. If it took a turn for the worse, that is.

I turned away, looking for my pyjama top, but when I got back to the mirror, about to put it on, I stopped cold.

For a moment, it had looked as though I was already wearing my pyjamas, except they had been colourless and white. The same kind of white as my skin condition. Then, as soon as I had seen myself and mildly panicked, it almost looked like it had unwoven itself and disappeared.

Woah…

What exactly had that been?

After a long time just standing there, I looked back at the pyjama top I was still holding and thought about how I wanted to put it on—I thought about what I would look like wearing it—and then, like magic, the white copy-cat version began to appear again. Before I knew it, I was dressed in a perfect replica of my pyjamas, just stark white instead of blue. I touched the fabric. It didn't exactly feel like fabric. It felt… warm… soft… and unlike any material I could identify.

I thought about it going away, and once again, it unwove itself. Then I made it appear again. No way… was this… could it be… some kind of superpower? Was this my superhero origin story?

I shook my head. I was getting ahead of myself. I didn't know all the things this stuff could do.

I tried tugging at the white sleeve. It didn't tear. But then I wondered if maybe it could stretch, and right as I thought that, it started coming away from the rest of the top like silly putty. It was drooping now, all the way down to the floor, and I didn't know how to make it stop. I scooped it up and I shoved the substance back into place around my wrist, willing it to go back to being a sleeve, and sure enough, one second later, it was back to normal. So then I had another thought.

I held out my arms and willed the sleeves to get longer, which they did of course, and then I imagined the ends being weighted so that I could swing them around. Then I turned them into a jumprope and started doing a little exercise. Then, after I made them disappear, I thought, "what if I was wearing a ballgown?" And immediately I was wearing the biggest, poofiest, swishiest dress I have ever worn in my life. So, was I like the Green Lantern or something? Making constructs with my brain? Cool!

But, as I went to adjust the strapless top of my dress, I noticed something. It didn't move like a normal dress would. It didn't shift over my skin, it didn't adjust, it stayed right where it was, almost as if it was glued to me. Or… as if it was part of my skin. I forced a part of it to come away from me and when I looked down, there were all these little strands of white connecting the dress to me, like melted cheese.

All of a sudden, the dress began to disappear, and I noticed that it started furthest away from its eventual point of origin: my torso.

Okay, so a little less like Green Lantern in that respect, and a little more… unsettling.

I decided to get my real pyjamas on and sat on my bed, having a small tendril of the white stuff snake down my arm so that I could play with it in my hand. At one point, I made a whole bunch of butterflies, but when I made them take off and flutter around my hand, I noticed that they were all still connected to me via a small thread. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get the thread to disappear; it only got thinner. I wanted to see how far I could push this, so I made an entire flock of butterflies and set them loose in my room. There seemed to be no limit to how far away from me they could go, the only major problem I kept running into was all the tiny threads crossing paths and getting tangled. I called all the butterflies back and they merged together on my palm until there was just one.

What had happened to me? Was this ultimately a good thing or a bad thing?

A bunch of the night was spent experimenting more with these constructs. It seemed that they could lift just about anything I could lift, and if I made the construct bigger, it could cary even more weight. Something about mass, leverage, physics—you know, stuff I didn't really pay attention to in school. But there was still a limit. Like, for example, I couldn't lift my bed as if I was Superman.

I may have spent a half hour cosplaying as some of my favourite characters in front of the mirror, and then I was trying to see if I could use this stuff to travel as well. I made four large blobby feet beneath myself and started walking, struggling to keep my balance at first. That might take some practise before I could really use it.

Then I had an idea. I took off my top again and imagined two, large bird wings coming out of my back, along with a replacement top while I was trying this. The wings were long and their feathers were soft, but I soon realised that trying to flap them in the confines of my room was not a bright idea. Even small chicken wings created a lot of wind when they flapped, and if I set off these bad boys, the room would turn into a mess in no time. So I unraveled them, thinking that maybe I would try again another time. Preferably outside.

I put my top back on and looked at the clock. It was getting late. Well, later than it already was. I could explore more of my new superpower in the morning.

I turned out the light and slipped under the covers, but unsurprisingly, I couldn't fall asleep. So I created another tendril of white and held the growing blob in my hand like an inflating water balloon. There was a bit of moonlight coming in through the window and it made the white stuff look almost like it was glowing. Then, it kinda looked like it really was glowing. I focused on it until it was shining like a lightbulb. Incredible! Then I turned it off. Then on. Then off. Then on again. Built-in flashlight! Alright!

Lazily, I turned the ball of light into a bunch of little glowing fishes, swimming over my head. I watched them float around for a while, occasionally imagining a dolphin or a turtle passing through. After some time, I was able to nod off.

In the morning, I rushed to make sure all of that hadn't been just a dream. I checked myself in the mirror, and the white was still there. Where had it even come from?

Well, at any rate, I was able to make myself some long arms and grabbed my clothes from the closet halfway across the room, so I wasn't exactly complaining about it.

I was dressed and heading downstairs to breakfast, still hoping to catch any sign of Dick, but once again, I was out of luck. Maybe he was just going to be gone for a little while? Or maybe… was he avoiding me? Maybe I'd misinterpreted something? He seemed like a genuinely kind-hearted guy—was he just trying to be nice by comforting me? I had been pretty distressed… So then… did that mean… oh no…

Was the night we spent together a total accident? And when we woke up… he'd tried to leave… I was the one who asked him to stay… ohnonononono… had I seriously misinterpreted? Was that why he wasn't coming around? Because he was trying to gently give me a hint that he wasn't actually interested? All of a sudden, my morning was completely ruined. I didn't feel exceptionally pretty anymore, I just felt like I was trying too hard. I didn't feel like using my powers, either. Actually, they just made me feel like a weirdo. Of course someone as handsome and talented and amazing as Dick wouldn't fall for someone like me. What had I been thinking? I was annoying to be around, over emotional, I was a huge theatre dork and fiction nerd who rarely got out of the house, not to mention I was hardly the prettiest girl out there—average at best—I couldn't even drive, or do much of anything on my own—I was a small town nobody, and he was a big city celebrity. And had I forgotten? Nothing exceptional ever happens to me. Me. The girl the rest of the world would rather forget exists.

I didn't feel like eating a whole bunch at breakfast.

"Is something wrong, Miss Brielle?" Asked Alfred as he poured my orange juice.

"Do you have time for a particularly long conversation?" I asked, leaning against the table.

"Unfortunately, I do not."

"Then no."

He seemed to pause and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Chin up. I'm sure things will turn around soon."

"Brielle."

The both of us were surprised to see Batman standing in the entryway to the dining room.

"Would you mind coming with me for a moment?"

"Okay," I said, slowly getting out of my seat. I straightened my shirt as he led me—I couldn't believe it—in the direction of the Batcave. Had all my patience finally paid off?

We walked down into the cold cavern and I saw that the bat computer was full of pictures and police reports of a certain car crash. Oh. Right. Of course. Batman directed me to have a seat and then asked,

"Can you tell me what you remember from that night?"

I stole a glance around the room before being seated (no Dick) and then did my best to come up with anything useful.

"It was a normal night," I started, remembering how much fun we'd had together at the restaurant. "I was sitting on the left-hand side of the van… then… two headlights came at us from the other side of the road… I think they might have tried to swerve… we might have too… I remember how loud everything got, but… my eyes were closed. Then… it just sort of went white…" I tried to remember anything from that moment onward, but it was as if my brain had simply shut off. "The next thing I remember is waking up outside of Gotham."

Batman nodded thoughtfully. "And you didn't sustain any injuries from the crash?"

"None that I'm aware of," I said, which was true. I hadn't suffered any injuries. "Everything still worked fine, I wasn't in any pain. I felt a little discombobulated, but otherwise, I was fine. I still feel fine."

"Tell me, do any of these pictures seem familiar? Anything jog your memory?"

I looked up at the computer screen and saw a whole lot of unsettling things. "That's our van," I said, looking at the crumpled frame. My throat was feeling tight again. There were shards of glass and headlights and mirrors splayed all over the road, and some cars looked like they had been on fire.

"Five dead," he went on. "None of which have been identified as your family." Well that was certainly better than I had expected. "But they're still missing, along with two others."

"Do you think…" I wondered, turning to him. "Whatever happened to me happened to them too? Like, maybe they're out there somewhere far away from the crash site?"

"It's possible."

Possible. Just like it was possible that they were also dead. I really had to try hard not to let that thought take root in me.

"From what the local authorities have been able to piece together, it looks as though someone lost control on the road and hit your family's van first. Then they ran. The police still haven't found them."

I set my jaw. The headlights I had seen… those people, whoever they were, were the reason I was stuck here, instead of back home, safe in my room, drawing cartoons. And if things took a turn for the worse, they might also be responsible for the murder of my family.

"There's still a lot we don't know," said Batman firmly. "I have some friends who specialise in the supernatural I can contact to look into this further, but if you can think of anything else, please tell me. Just… try not to dwell on it too much. Okay?"

I nodded and took a steadying breath. He was right… but that didn't mean it would be easy.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" I asked.

"No. I've been meaning to discuss the finer details of your situation. First of all, I've already had a word with your landlord, and will be paying the rent on your parents' house until such a time as they can resume the payment, or it is no longer needed." I couldn't believe what he was saying. For real? He'd really done that? "Secondly, I've spoken to your father's employers. They've stated that they need to move on and replace him, but that they'd be willing to take him back once he's been found. And if that ends up not working out… I'm prepared to offer him a position at… a certain company that I'm well connected with."

"Really?" I just… This man… this endlessly generous man… I couldn't help but hug him again. "Thank you so much," I said into his suit.

He gave a cough, but said, as I let go, "You're welcome. But now there are just a few rules I'd like to go over. The first, and most obvious—don't go leaking any of this online, or to any friends or relatives or anyone."

I nodded fervently. "Of course. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that after everything you've done."

"I mean it. Not a single soul."

"Yes, Sir," I said seriously.

"Second, don't touch anything that looks expensive or dangerous. Third, you're free to roam about the manor and its premises, but stay within the gates unless you're specifically going out somewhere—preferably accompanied. And stay on the paths. There are some defence systems I'd hate for you to trigger."

I nodded again, swallowing.

"Fourth, the Batcave isn't a clubhouse. Only come down here if you really need to, or if it's an emergency."

Again, I nodded.

"I think that's everything. I'll be fairly busy most of the time, so you probably won't see much of me. If you have any further questions or concerns, bring them to Alfred. You're free to go back up to breakfast."

I felt my arms swing a little restlessly at my sides as he turned back to the computer. I guess the talk was over now.

"But…" he added, still looking at the computer. "…you're also… welcome to stay for a while… if you'd like."

I was about to accept, thinking that I might enjoy doing nothing down here more than I would doing nothing upstairs, but then someone buzzed in over the coms.

"Hey, Bats! I found that gutter trash you were talking about." A picture of Red Hood appeared on screen, now sporting a shiny red helmet, and he was holding some sort of roughed-up thug by the shirt collar. "Hey, new girl. How's it going?" he nodded at me.

"What?" Someone else chimed in. Audio only. I thought it might be Dick, but there was a lot of distortion, like maybe from wind?

"Red Hood? You said you found him?" Said someone else.

This all sounded like important crime-fighting stuff, and I didn't really want more than one pair of eyes on me at the moment. "I think I'll just head upstairs," I said, turning to leave.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation over the bat computer as I ascended the stairs into the manor. I felt really kinda useless, walking out of there. All I had done since arriving was go shopping and then use up a bunch of their paper. Was I becoming a free-loader? There had to be some way for me to help out.

I was walking by one of the sitting rooms when I suddenly heard a low growl. I backed up just enough to see something in the room, standing there, watching me. It was a big, black dog. And it didn't look happy to see me.

"H-hey there," I said, trying to act calm. It kept growling. "Good doggy." I started taking a few steps back, heart rate climbing as it began to follow me. Oooh, why did it have to be a dog!? Why couldn't they own a couple of cats instead!? Big dogs made me nervous even when they weren't growling at me like they were gonna eat me! I kept taking slow, steady steps back down the hall, but this black creature kept on following me, glaring daggers. "Please don't bite me," I begged, holding my hands close to my chest.

Then—just my luck—another dog appeared! This one looked more like a German Shepherd, and although it didn't growl at me, it did walk up next to the big black dog, eyeing me suspiciously. I had a feeling that at any second, one of them would lunge forward, trying to sink their sharp teeth into one of my legs, or maybe even my face, and my nervous body language wasn't helping at all.

"Just let me go, and we can pretend like this never happened," I said quietly, but of course, it didn't really make a difference. Actually, the black dog might have just started to growl louder. "Ooh, please don't hurt me!" I squealed, fearing that he was getting close to pouncing.

"Pinky?"

I looked up and saw—

"Dick!"

The dog rushed at me ("Titus!"), followed closely by the German Shepherd. I shrieked and jumped out of the way, barely missing him, and then before I knew what I was doing, I had run to Dick and jumped—clinging to his shoulders out of sheer panic.

"Woah!" He yelped, barely avoiding falling down.

The dogs were at his heels now, barking up at me, and the black dog would occasionally get up on its hind legs and snap at me, making me squeal some more and cling tighter to Dick's shoulders.

"Titus! Down! DOWN!" Dick yelled. Finally, the beast relented, though it still hung around at his heels, watching me. "It's okay, he's not gonna hurt you," he said, trying to crane his neck around to look at me.

I probably looked something like a cat, shaking, eyes wide, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his suit like I was about to fall a hundred feet. I think I was still in shock, because I just kept trying not to hyperventilate.

"Not a fan of big dogs, huh?" He chuckled tightly.

"No, no, what's not to love? Just the teeth and the claws and the—"

"WOOF!" Titus bellowed, and I gripped Dick tighter, squeaking just a bit.

"Titus!" He snapped back at him.

"Um… am I interrupting something?" Said Batman as he came up from the Batcave. Dick turned to face him while I hid my face out of pure embarrassment. I still didn't want to let go, though. The dogs currently had claim to the floor.

"It's nothing!" Dick said suddenly, then he cleared his throat, his voice cracking. "Just… can you put Titus and Ace in their kennels?"

Batman gave a quick whistle and then he was guiding the dogs away.

Only when they were completely out of sight did I start to let go and gradually slid down to the ground. I couldn't remember another time when I had literally jumped into a person's arms out of fear like that. It wasn't nearly as comical or romantic as it seemed in movies.

"S-sorry," I said, cradling my arms and not looking up at him. I felt like a big scaredy-cat, shrieking over a couple of household pets like that. Who knew what Dick thought of me now.

"You're fine, you're fine," he said gently. "You, uh… you're not hurt, are you?"

"I-I don't think so." Nothing felt like it was bleeding at least. My chest, however, felt like an atomic bomb had gone off inside of it, and it was making my arms and legs feel all shaky. Was this what pure adrenaline felt like? I didn't like it. I rubbed my arms and let out a long, weary breath, trying not to look or sound like I was on the verge of fainting. Not that I was, of course, not at all. Not because of the dogs, or… or because I had just been clinging to Dick's body for dear life mere moments ago.

"You sure?" He pressed, about to reach out a hand but then hesitating.

I felt myself plop against the wall of the hallway, and a few seconds after that, my weak legs were slowly letting me slide down until I was on the floor. I took another long breath in through the nose, feeling like my brain was a rebooting PC.

"I'm fine," I said, starting to get a grip and hiding my face in the crooks of my elbows. "Fine."

Part of the reason I wasn't looking up at him, other than feeling mortified that he had to bear witness to… well, not one of my finest moments… was also because I was sure that I had just made another lousy impression on top of a long list of other lousy impressions. How could anyone find crying, rambling, and shrieking attractive?

"Okay, well…" he said, feet shifting somewhat. "As long as you're sure… I got some stuff I need to… yeah." And with that, he left, probably needing to get back to his vigilanteism. Curious, I peeked over the wall I had made with my arms and watched him leave. After he had gotten a sizeable distance away, I saw him jerk his arms and head as though he was upset about something, and then he discreetly looked back at me. I hid my eyes just enough to make it appear as though I wasn't spying and saw him quickly whip around, picking up his pace.

I wanted to take it in the most charitable light possible, but… what if I was just making more assumptions? I didn't want to assume that he liked me only to get rejected, even though I really, really wanted to assume that he liked me. But I also really, really didn't want him having to deal with a clingy, boy-crazy, love-sick girl like me. I didn't want to be a bother. That would have been awful.

And so, I picked myself up, shook out the last of my shivers, and spotted myself reflected in a wall mirror.

"Breathe," I told myself. "Just… one thing at a time." The longer I looked at myself, though, the more it looked like my reflection was exceedingly unconvinced that I would actually listen to that advice. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Like I'm so great at doing that." When the face wouldn't go away, I swatted the air and turned to leave. "Who asked you, anyway?"

I didn't want to go back to my room, but I also didn't really know where else to go. I'd been cooped up in the house so long that when I passed by a particular window, I felt like maybe a walk was in order.

After grabbing my sneakers, I set out the front door, wandering about the grounds until I stumbled my way over to the place I had seen from the window. It was this incredible, lush garden. Everything looked perfectly manicured—the grass, the flower beds, the hedges, the topiaries, the trees even—and so many of the flowers were in bloom, inviting the bees and the butterflies to stop in for some pollen and nectar.

Walking the long, curving pathways turned out to be a brilliant way to distract myself from everything. It was genuinely difficult to feel sad or depressed when you were surrounded by so many pretty things. Like the expertly chiseled fountain, made to look like two young lovers dancing together… or the pair of squirrels chittering about in the elm trees' waving arms… or the two blue birds swooping overhead, playfully twittering a happy song.

Eventually, I found myself sitting by an old, shady tree, flicking bits of rock into a nearby stream with a sullen expression on my face. It sure would have been nice to share such a lovely place with somebody… not that I was obsessing or anything, I would never. You can only obsess over someone that you're upset with, or… or in love with… and at the moment I felt conflicted about liking him (because I didn't want to be crushing if he wasn't. Been there. Done that. Not a fan), so… I suppose that meant that the only reason I was thinking about him so much was because I was upset with him. Yes, that must be it. Had to be.

I looked up at the swaying branches above me. I could smell salt on the air. It was a lot like back home. Of course, with fewer pine and pacific madrone trees.

…what would dad say about all of this? Besides, you know, "don't talk to strange men." I snickered. As a vigilante, how much stranger could you get? But seriously… what would he say? He would say… not to dwell on things that are not ours to control… like Dick's feelings. A far more prudent use of one's time would be to focus on what one can control. Like one's own feelings. And control them, I would. It was decided.

As I walked through the garden a second time, I payed no mind to the statues or the squirrels or the birds. Instead, I smelled the flowers and I enjoyed the water features and let a butterfly land on one of my fingertips, determined to enjoy myself.

Then, as I was plucking a particularly gorgeous buttercup, a strange sensation came over me. It almost felt like there were eyes on me. I turned around, but there was no one else there in the garden. I did notice, however, that in one of the manor windows, the curtains were swaying gently back and forth. I decided I would move along a little bit.

I sung and hummed to myself while I was out there (I made absolutely sure I was alone first) and basically tried to imagine that I was on a grand adventure like in Beauty and the Beast or Phantom of the Opera, having been swept away to a castle by a shadowy, mysterious man in a cape.

I stopped in my tracks when I came around one turn in the garden, and what should be standing in front of me but a little turkey, eyeing me curiously.

"Well, hello there, little fella," I said, amused. I'd never been this close to a turkey before, and it wasn't with a flock, so it had to be domesticated. Or, that was my logic anyhow. I bent low to the ground and offered him my hand, like I was used to doing with cats, and he wobbled over to me, most likely looking for food or treats. Gently, I stroked his feathery head, and then when he realised that I had no food to offer, he wobbled on. "Pleasure meeting you."

Hands in my pockets, I followed the last few paths in the gardens that I hadn't explored, happening upon a koi pond, an amphitheatre, and a gazebo. The latter I became immediately enchanted with. My parents had gotten married under a white gazebo like this one. There was just something about them, something romantic, that made a wistful smile appear on my face whenever I walked under one. Or, in this case, spun through one. Perhaps I could be like Odette in Swan Lake, dancing through the gardens. I did some ballet footwork I remembered, but I was glad my instructor couldn't see me now. She would not have been impressed.

Just then, as I approached another man-made pond, a flock of white ducks took off out of the water, making an awful lot of noise as they did so. This would typically be the moment when the handsome prince appeared, and then he would lead the princess on a romantic dance through the woods… and I found myself turning around, hoping to see… someone… standing behind me under the gazebo… but it was empty. I was still alone. Just like always. Who was I kidding? I wasn't a princess in a fairytale, I was Brielle Blanchett, the digital artist from California, pretending that I was anything more than that.

With all those depressing thoughts nipping and biting at my heart, I started walking back toward the manor, thinking that maybe I could find a snack in the kitchen, seeing as how I had never finished breakfast.

As always, it was empty when I came inside. Then, when I went to take off my shoes, I suddenly realised something. I hadn't actually grabbed my new sneakers as I thought I had. Rather, I had mistakenly put on the old pair of shoes that Dick had given me yesterday. They were blue… just like his Nightwing suit…

But as I said, I was very upset with him, so naturally I didn't linger on it for a few minutes and I didn't gently lay them down by the door with all the other shoes neatly placed there, and I definitely didn't look back at them longingly as I went away.

The kitchen was also empty at this time of day, and I busied myself with poking around the cupboards and pantry, hoping to find something small that wouldn't be missed. Much to my dismay, there weren't a lot of options. It didn't exactly surprise me that a place which served filet mignon didn't stock its cupboards with Cheez-Its and Chicken in a Biscuit, but I'm just saying it would have been nice. Then, I found something bright and colourful among the boxes of cake flour and buckwheat. Cereal. I took the box and poured out a small handful for myself to nibble on as I walked back up to my room. Then I was out of the kitchen, leaving it just as empty as when I had found it.

Once again, I found myself with not much to do until lunch time. I mean, there was my story to keep writing, but just now I wasn't particularly motivated to pour over the coffee-stained pages. Or to resume my reading of Great Expectations (I still have no idea what the story's about, all I know is that there's words inside the book.)

Alfred was nowhere to be seen when I entered the dining room at lunch time. There was just a plate with a silver cloche over it, sitting at my usual seat. I opened it and found a beautiful array of roast duck with a cherry tomato salad and some kind of sauce that tasted as though all my favourite things in the world had gotten together to form a band, and my mouth was practically singing along to their hit single.

I was feeling better than I had in the morning, and when I returned to my room, I decided I might experiment a bit more with my new powers.

But then…

At the thought of my strange mutation, I finally gave myself a talking to. It was high time I just go and tell Batman already. After all, what would I be risking? Other than him maybe wanting to take the powers away or him discovering that I was going to die or mutate into a monster or something…

Or… it could turn out to be something so benign that I end up breaking his rule about only going into the Batcave for necessary reasons…

But on the other hand, there'd be no way for me to know if it was benign, so the visit would be warranted…

But what if he still got upset?

I stood in front the mirror, sighing frustratedly and pulling at my shirt. "Come on, girly," I said to myself. "Just get it over with."

I braced myself and started for the Batcave.

Funny how all of my fears about going down there had vanished now that I had a good reason to intrude. Not that I was intruding on much. When I arrived, I found the place disappointingly empty.

"Does anybody even live here?" I asked myself as I looked around the barren platforms.

I hesitantly approached one corner—nobody there—and then I saw the bat computer. It was just as deserted as the rest of the cave, but I could still see several pictures from the car crash site displayed on it.

"They could still be alive," I tried to tell myself. It didn't work very well.

I walked away, trying to push the photos further from my mind.

There were all kinds of things to look at down here. Some of them looked like expensive equipment that I dared not touch. Others looked like the giant T-Rex and the giant penny. I smiled to myself as I watched the stalactites and the bats and heard the echo of their wings in the tunnels. There was also a river that I just now noticed.

"The phantom of the opera is here… inside my mind," I sang jokingly. All I was missing was a gondola and I'd be all set.

Well, I didn't want to be caught just hanging around, so I went back up the stairs and closed the door gently behind me. I stood there, for just a moment, wondering when—if ever—I would get the chance to tell someone… and if I even really wanted to tell someone… cause them to worry about me more than already did… bleh. I hate feelings.

Then, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned and down the hall, walking toward me, were Batman and Nightwing, accompanied by Red Robin and someone else I had yet to meet. Unlike all the other vigilantes, this person appeared to be a woman, and she was dressed in lots of purple. They all stopped when they saw me just standing there.

"Brielle," said Batman. "Did you need something?"

Well… this was awkward. I kind of didn't feel all that comfortable pulling up my shirt with everyone watching. Especially… Dick.

But now what was I supposed to say!?

"Um…" I started prematurely. "I just…" I was twiddling with my fingertips. "…I didn't know where anyone was, and…" I made a soft, deflated sort of noise, feeling embarrassed. Come to think of it, the manor was awfully quiet… and lonely.

"So you're Brielle?" Asked the girl coming right up to me. Her blonde hair bounced whenever she spoke, as though she was on her fifth cup of coffee. "My name's Stephanie."

"Spoi—ugh…" Batman sighed as she took off her mask and gave me an energetic handshake.

"What? Dick already told her his name," she pouted at him.

"Nice to meet you," I smiled.

"I'm so sorry to hear about what happened," she said, turning back to me with a serious expression.

"Thanks. I—oh." She had me in a bear hug that I wasn't expecting, but I didn't mind. I hugged her back, glad to finally have another gal around. "Thanks." When she let go, I asked, "So what's your superhero name?"

"They call me… Spoiler," she said with no small hint of dramatic flair and a wave of her cape.

"Why do they call you that?" I asked.

"It's a long story," said Red Robin, coming over. "Don't get her started."

"If you ever need anything at all, literally, just say the word," Stephanie went on.

"That's very kind of you." It was then that I noticed Dick, standing the furthest away from me out of everyone else, not even looking my way. Or at my general vicinity. "Do you live at the manor too?"I asked, turning back to Stephanie.

"Don't answer that," Batman groaned.

"No, I live in the city," she said anyway, leaving the Bat pinching the brim of his nose. "But I could visit some if you ever want the company."

"That'd be nice. What do you like to do for fun?"

"Do you like Harry Potter?"

"The books or the movies?"

"Is that even a question?"

"No it is not! House?" I asked, getting excited.

"What else? Gryffindor!"

"Same!" And we gave each other a big double-high five.

"Favourite movie?"

"Order of the Phoenix. Favourite book?"

"Prisoner of Azkaban. Patronus?"

I grinned, remembering the incident with the dogs. "Ironically, a St. Bernard. You?"

"Golden Retriever!"

"Okay, okay… Ilvermorny house?"

"Ooh, I bet I can guess."

"Both guess on three. Ready? One, two, three—"

"THUNDERBIRD!" We both cried, hugging each other again.

"What just happened!?" I asked, delighted.

"Did we just become best friends?" Stephanie beamed.

"I think we did!"

In the background, Red Robin sighed. "It's like there's two of them."

"They're multiplying," Batman agreed while Steph and I started jumping up and down, talking about who our favourite characters were.

We both agreed that we needed to get together at some point to watch one or multiple of the movies, and I said I would try to make a pumpkin juice recipe I had thrown together for a party once.

Somewhere along the conversation we ended up talking about Fantastic Beasts, but that's when Batman got her attention and Steph had to get back to work. But at least I'd made a new friend, and our little movie night wouldn't be far off.

After that, I decided to make myself scarce so that I wouldn't get in the way of their important work stuff, but I just couldn't help stealing a glance at Dick as they all walked past, into the cave. He still wasn't looking my way. Not even slightly. I could feel my heart sighing as I began to accept that the thing's I'd been worried about—that he didn't really like me the same way I liked him—were most likely true. And either way, it was always safer to assume neutral feelings, rather than assuming that the other person in question liked you and then charging headfirst into something stupid.

I put my hands in my pockets and wandered to the kitchen where I found Alfred already prepping dinner. I had no idea what it was called, but it looked fancy.

"Can I help?" I asked. The butler seemed apprehensive, to say the least. "I can just chop vegetables or wash potatoes or something if you want."

"Do you know how to use a knife properly?" He asked, throwing a hand towel over his shoulder.

"My brothers taught me. They're cooks."

Alfred still seemed reluctant, but in two shakes of a dog's tail I had on an apron and was happily chopping up some mushrooms. I was just glad to finally have something meaningful to do, and something to think about other than… you know… Dick Grayson.