Meet Your Heros

[phaineofcatz]

“Give…Me…Back…MY…SWORD!” Robin says between yanking at the weapon. He has the hilt in both hands as he pushes against the wall with his feet in a comical attempt to dislodge the weapon that, to all appearances, is just stuck to the wall by nothing.

“So like, I don’t want your sword, you can totally have it back, just like, don’t point it at my face please?”

“I will use my weapons how I see fit! And you are a suspect in an ongoing investigation!” Hood should probably be putting a stop to this, but it’s just too funny watching Robin eat crow and he can’t stop laughing. Orphan seems more concerned than amused, but can’t decide who to back in this stalemate between children.

“I’m not asking you to promise not to use the sword on me, like, you may have to cause like…anyway, just like, promise not to point it directly at my face?”

“FINE, I will not point it directly at your face.”

“Okay, like, stop pulling so hard a sec, I don’t want to drop you.” As Robin begrudgingly puts his feet back on the ground color returns to the weapon and it comes loose as easily as if it’d never been stuck.

Hood manages to stop laughing long enough to ask, “Alright ‘Phaine’, what even is that, you have some sort of shadow powers?”

“Oh, I’m a Contact PK 3d with limited range residual lock. I’m also an EX 3 and Regen 3. Aunt Nix said I should have some other resonance ability, but we mostly trained how to hide my shifts instead of how to use them.”

“Those sure were words that probably mean something.” Hood isn’t sure they can get any real information from this girl, she maybe didn’t even give them a real name, but she seems to be calming down while she’s talking at least.

“Okay, so like, Regen is pretty obvious, it means I heal fast, and threes can regrow body parts, buuuut it also means my blood is corruptive to other living tissue and I’m aging slower than I should be. EX has to do with being like, the ideal that some core part of you internalized. It’s hard to explain, but it tends to come with an overall improvement in physical and mental ability. I have a theory that all the bat fam is some level of exemplar. Probably ones and twos for the most part, but most baselines can’t just like, perform at an Olympic level in multiple skill sets, look effortlessly gorgeous, and maintain genius level intellect, all while perpetually functioning on a reduced sleep schedule. Oh, and Baselines are people who aren’t shifters. I’m a shifter, it means I have shifted away from the baseline.” She pauses to chew on that a second, “Actually, I guess that means those terms are defined purely by each other’s exclusion, but like, baselines are normal people, not people like us.” She gestures to include the three vigilante on the roof as well as herself. Hood is not sure he belongs in the same category as people with what looks like magic, but he’s also been dead before, so he doesn’t push the issue.

“Anyway a PK can intuitively move things with their mind! But like, I can only do that when I’m touching stuff, so contact. But something I’m already doing it with that I let go of I have very limited control to like, keep it how it was when I was touching it or let go. It won’t like, float in the air, but I can stick it to stuff.” She gestures to Robin’s sword and then the wall where it was trapped moments before. Robin’s eyes narrow as he holds his prized weapon more tightly. “For PKs the number and letter is like, a balance between strength and dexterity. As a 3 d I can basically thread a needle with my mind, but I’m not able to exert a lot of force like that, or I can like, jack up one end of a car.” Hood notes that the kid is back to taking breaths between sentences like a normal person, though it’s pretty clear normal is not what they have on their hands.

“I can actually do it three different ways. Shade, like you saw, which is the easiest to control. Tint,” suddenly the color and reflection flow back into the emergency blanket wrapped around her and it looks almost normal again, but a corner of it waves at them to show it isn’t. “which like, doesn’t change how it looks, but it is a little harder to use. And highlight,” color once again drains from the material as it turns white, “which is kind of draining and really wobbly but when I push it like, makes things glow, which is kinda neat.” As she says so the material starts to glow, not blindingly so, but enough that the grungy roof can be more clearly seen around them.

“None of this explains how you know our identities, or who you are working for” Robin probably only let her ramble so long to see if he could find weaknesses in her abilities, but now he’s back to business.

“Oh, um, okay so…do any of you know about multiverse theory?” She looks up away from them at the top of the wall she is leaned against, “You know it right? If we’re this far along I’m pretty sure you’ve had to deal with it already.”

“I have.” The Batman looms on the ledge, giving pause enough for dramatic effect, but when no one seems surprised by his presence he continues. “Most who were still in the lab escaped, along with their equipment.”

“Seriously? I thought you were right on top of them?” Hood doesn’t regret following the girl instead, but he might have chosen differently if he had thought Batman couldn’t handle it on his own.

“They took a chunk of the building with them as well. It seems they had some sort of teleportation device they used as a last resort.”

“That’s weird, supers in Gotham usually work alone or get out of town. No point in hiring muscle if you can teleport your gear where you want it and it’s easier to operate in cities with less adaptive heroes…” Everyone looks down at the girl. “What? The main reason Gotham has so much crime is the deep ties to baseline mafia that mean there is easy to hire or coerce muscle around to support organized crime by a small cabal of masterminds. That and in between jobs that muscle often makes ends meet with poorly planned petty crimes that usually just end up perpetuating the cycle.” She looks back up at them and shrugs. “My dad really likes Batman, so I read a lot about you all growing up.” She bites her lip for a moment. “Soooo, this is probably a good time to mention that I’m not from this world, and in my world there aren’t any actual superheros, but like, we have superhero comics? Including the Batman comics. Actually, now that I think about it, is it weird we tell stories about superheroes when we don’t have any? Anyway, that’s why I know all your secret identities. It’s also why I know I should NOT be able to be here.”

“You just expect us to believe that? You not only have powers, you have a classification system for them.” Robin is still incredulous, but he at least isn’t threatening her anymore.

“Um, so like, there are shifters, but we kinda have to like, hide? Generally people don’t know we exist and governments don’t like us out on our own. Most shifters that show up get covered up and then either blackmailed into service, studied in a lab, or killed…Sometimes all three.” Phaine shivers again, not entirely from the cold this time. “Aunt Nix is an old shifter, like, really old. She said that when she was fighting in world war two it wasn’t blackmail so much as the promise for a non-exploitative future for all shifters that got her involved. After the war though, we just got treated as secret weapons even more. She’s kind of too hard to control, so they tried to kill her, but she’s also too hard to kill. She found me and warned my parents about the trouble raising a shifter would be and offered to help and keep me under wraps. She’s the one who taught me the system for classifying powers, it’s used by the government to estimate the force and tools needed to take down a shifter. She and I and two other shifters are all the ones I know, and we all kind of have to just hide it and try to live our lives.”

“Suppose we entertain your story, how did you get here if you are not from our world?” Damian seems intent on leading the interrogation, and no one has stopped him.

“I dunno. My brother was driving me to a party and then I was in the dark being chased by some REALLY big guys. Hey, you know, your teleporty guy, he had this whole thing with runes and stuff all over it, that’s where I showed up, maybe he has a way to…Oh gawd! I forgot about the whole encapsulation thing! I hope this doesn’t start another crisis, I didn’t actually pay attention to the new 52 or any of that, so I don’t like, know how they fixed it…” Phaine rocks back and forth staring that the ground, suddenly quiet.

Batman takes charge again, “An ability to cross between realities could potentially be related to teleportation technology, and would require the kind of power that would black out a chunk of the city. There are too many ways that could go catastrophically wrong, so this is a high priority case until further notice. In the meantime, you are our only witness and have sensitive information we can not afford to be revealed. I am sorry, but we will need to take you with us…”

“Oh…I’m not supposed to exist here, so like, it’s not like I had somewhere else I could go, but like, where are you going to keep me? I am still getting a sense for which Batman you are, but I didn’t think you were one with a secret prison…” She looks around at all of them nervously.

“If you know as much as you seem to then you should know that I have a few spare bedrooms around.” She thinks he’s teasing her, but it’s really fucking hard to tell without a change in facial expression or body language. She hopes that means she gets to sleep in a bed instead of handcuffs. Not that she couldn’t probably get out of handcuffs, but like, then what? Run from the freaking BATMAN?

“So, uh…Does that mean I get to see the bat cave?”

---

It was cold on the floor of the cave, but she felt small and in her head, so it was floor time. They hadn’t taken the emergency blanket from her, and with her shade she could give herself a soft place to sit at least. Well, not exactly soft, so much as a thing that she shapes to match her resting position in a similar way that a soft thing would, but was in fact quite hard if someone pushed against it. Wait, is that what soft is? Just an attribute of conforming to the shape automatically while still providing support? She shifts on her ‘cushion’ as she thinks about it and yeah, it FEELS soft, like, she has to decide to make it do that, but-

“…Phaine?”

“Huh?” The family had split up, Hood wanting to handle the fallout of a blackout in the middle of his hood, while Orphan had continued her patrol. Robin and Batman drove her back in the bat mobile after a bit of back and forth about whether she should be blindfolded. Robin felt she should be, but Batman argued she knew where they lived already. She was kinda on Robin’s side on this one, but then Batman mentioned that people blindfolded in the back of the bat mobile get carsick fast and she changed her mind. The ride was stressful and she was glad the final ruling was no blindfold, not like she knew the city anyway.

When they got there Oracle was connected in through the bat computer and the three of them started into it. They had been talking about several cases trying to pin down which ones were related to this and what the objectives were. Apparently there had been a number of burglaries in the last two months with no signs of break-in, all likely candidates for a teleporter, but they did not all follow the same patterns. They had agreed a lot of it was probably equipment for whatever they were doing, and maybe a few jobs for funding their operations, but some of it seemed completely arbitrary. She had followed the conversation with interest for a while, but she eventually lost focus when they moved on to their fourth way of dissecting patterns.

“Father asked you, ‘What is your full name?’ You are here to answer questions, pay attention.” Robin has been sitting watch over her while doing maintenance on his sword. It doesn’t look like it needs repair to her, but she suspects it is as much for his comfort as it is to be intimidating. Orphan had come back during the discussion, but stepped away while Phaine was examining the mean of life. She didn’t see where Cass went, but she was out of range of her hearing at least, so maybe up in the manor?

“Parallel worlds tend to have a high overlap of people born in them, I would like to search if there is a version of you in our world.”

“Oh, that’s just cause you live in the bubble, there isn’t a Bruce Wayne or anything in my world. I won’t be in there, but I guess you can check if you really-”

“I will, so your full name?”

“…!!{phaine}ᵐᵃᵗᵗʰᵉʷ!! Taylor South” she says, mostly under her breath and deliberately not looking at anyone.

“What was that?” Bruce has patience for days, but does not have time for games.

Deep breath in, slooow breath out. “My legal name is Matthew Taylor South.” she can’t bring herself to look at any of them. Trans characters in the DC universe were rare enough that she could not think of a single one, less likely one she could be sure would be in this version of the universe. There was a chance that this version of the Wayne family has never seen or heard of someone trans before. There is a chance this is where the niceties stop. She tries to keep her breathing under control as every second feels like a painful eternity.

“How do you spell ‘Matthew’?” Bruce had turned back to the computer and begun typing his query into the machine.

“Uh, wha? Oh, two ’T’s, like in the bible…”

“The bible?”

“Yeah, Gospel of Matthew? First book of the New Testament?”

“The first book of the New Testament was written by Luke.”

“Oh, uh, not in my world. Trust me, my grandparents wouldn’t shut up about it. Never got over me giving up a good christian name. I guess I was just saying you probably wouldn’t have a lot of overlap with my world.” She hesitates for a few more moments before asking the question that she needs the answer to, but definitely does not want the answer to. “You…aren’t going to ask about why it’s a boy’s name?”

He turned to her again, looking earnest, if a bit smug, “It seemed obvious, I am very familiar with trans people, though you look a bit young to have started hormones. No one in this family will hold it against you.” Phaine glances at Robin, but there are no snide remarks. “I would keep that a secret in public though, Gotham at large is not very accepting. How do you spell ‘Phaine’?”

“P-H-A-I-N-E, it’s Greek.”

Turning back to his screen, he continues searching. “Neither your full name nor ‘Phaine South’ have any results, but there are some South’s, do you have any other family I could search for.”

“Well, Dad was military, Sean Marshal South, Mom was Kathrine Lynn South, and I have a little sister, too, but if you don’t see my parents you won’t see her. Uncle Lenoir and Aunt Nix, uh, they aren’t together and they aren’t actually my aunt and uncle, they’re my godparents, but Nix didn’t want me calling her ‘My Fairy Godmother’ and Lenoir followed suit. I also have a god brother named Thomas Clarus Lenoir, but again with…What?”

Bruce had stopped searching in the computer and is looking at her directly, “Nix is your godmother? The witch who showed up out of nowhere 15 years ago?”

“Uh…I don’t know anything about a Nix in DC comics? And Aunt Nix is an ability mimic, but I guess like, in a world without shifters she might seem like a witch? And she does like her theatrics, so like, maybe? What’s she look like?”

Bruce calls up a picture of a tall woman with tan, but obviously white skin. In the photo she has a manic smile splitting her face, with long black hair flowing behind her as she appears to be riding on the roof of a still moving truck. The vehicle is VERY on fire. “Uuuhh, she looks crazy…oh, and uh, that’s not my Aunt Nix, she’s black and usually wears dreads.”

“Does your aunt Nix have a last name?”

“I don’t know? Oh, actually I think that may not have been her name at all? She told me a story one time that they couldn’t give her a slave brand when she was brought over from Africa, so they sold her as ‘NIX’ on her paperwork and they just called her that.”

Bruce just stares at her in silence for a moment. She hears gears and sliding metal nearby.

“Your world still has slavery in the United States?”

“Uh, noooo, not since the Civil War. Well, since Juneteenth anyway. Did you all have Lincoln? I feel like you did.” Bruce Nods in confirmation. “Like, I told you, Nix is OLD. Like, I can’t be sure how much of what she told me was exaggeration, but she once complained that she had just left the Mediterranean around 250 BC. So she didn’t get to see what all the christian stuff was about until after it’d already gotten pretty imperialistic.”

An older gentleman in immaculate formal wear rolls a cart into the room with several mugs and a plate of cookies on it, Cass trailing behind in street clothes. “It is unusual for you to entertain new guests in the bat cave, Master Bruce, especially with your face exposed.”

“Oh! Hello Mr. Pennyworth, I am Phaine” She hops up from the floor, forming the blanket into a long skirt around her so she can curtsy. “it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“A guest with manners, though you may call me Alfred. And the pleasure is all mine, Miss Phaine.”

“She had no such manners earlier for father” Robin has been quietly shooting her scowls every once in a while from where he has continued caring for his blade.

“I mean, Alfred is kind of a badass. Like, even in the least generous presentations I’ve seen he is still a frighteningly competent butler with military experience who raised Bruce from a child. In some of the more flattering comics he’s a threat on par with the rest of the bat family, just one who prioritizes keeping after the manor and caring for you all.”

“Well, I would love to hear how you know so much about me, but in the meantime your flattery will get you nowhere. I do have a hot cocoa and some cookies you are welcome to regardless.” He passes her a mug and holds out the plate.

She accepts the mug gratefully, but the cookies… “Are these your like, award-winning chocolate chip cookies?” She looks around quickly at the surrounding vigilantes, “Don’t they like, fight over these?”

“NOT when I have anything to say about it.” Alfred shoots a knowing glance at Damian, who is pretending like he hadn’t been ready to leap in their direction, but did finally take off his mask when Alfred came in. Cass pretends she wasn’t just reaching around his other side to sneak a cookie in silence.

Phaine makes note there are several cookies on the plate and errs on the safe side. “I would very much like to have one cookie then, thank you!” Cass nods quietly behind Alfred, and Phaine hopes this means she won’t suffer consequences for her choice.

As Alfred continues his rounds with cocoas, coffees, and cookies, Bruce starts back up. “None of the names you listed brought up any convincing results, and South does not seem to be a common sir name. You have talked about a ‘bubble’ several times, what is that?”

“Uh, so, I don’t fully understand it, but in the DC multiverse there were like, multiple versions of characters right? And they resolved this with multiverses, so like the bat who laughs is just the batman in a different universe from the one with Helena Wayne, and Damian Wayne is from a different one, and so on. But like, that was kinda a mess? No one was really managing it and it got out of hand. So they wrote ‘crisis on infinite earths’ which like, introduced a conflict that was destroying entire universes I think. I didn’t read it, so like, I don’t know the details. But at the end they basically made a bubble of universes with another bubble at its core I think? And that protected the universes so it wouldn’t happen again. Thing is, those universes are mapped and mine explicitly is NOT one of them, so I should exist outside the bubble and not be able to enter it.”

“And the fact that you are here means that either this teleporter has a way to subvert the bubble, or the bubble has been damaged.”

“Yeah! Oh, and like, either of those could be bad, but I think the bubble being damaged is worse? I don’t actually know anything more than that about how it all works, and like, even that’s kind of assuming a lot.” The cocoa is good. Not quite good enough to alleviate the dread of the discussion, but good. The cookie on the other hand almost makes her forget what she’s talking about.

“That is new information. I will discuss it with the league and see what turns up. In the meantime you will stay here in the manor. Some ground rules. You are not to leave the manor without permission and an escort. We want you to avoid contact with anyone outside the Wayne family until we can confirm the teleporter is not tracking you. I will get you a communicator for emergencies, but only emergencies. You are only allowed in the bat cave while supervised. Is that clear?”

Phaine nods solemnly.

“And access to the kitchen requires Alfred’s approval!” Damian seems to have given up the pretense of weapon care to better eat cookies, and now looks in a better mood. Perhaps he gets hangry? Actually, that would make a lot of sense at his age, what is he, like 9 or something? And he probably has a reduced sleep schedule from all the crime fighting. Huh, no wonder the whole bat fam is a little grumpy.

“Of course! I like cooking, but I wouldn’t intrude on someone else’s kitchen without permission.”

“With that out of the way, Cass, can you show Phaine to a room she can use?”

The elevator ride up is silent. She’d be anxious if she didn’t already know that Cass speaks with actions more than words. So instead she lets the silence wash over her, nothing but the sounds of a machine and their heartbeats to count out the moments. Cass’s heart is steady, patient, a heartbeat that is practiced and knows it is ready. It is calming. A lot of people’s hearts race when alone with a new person, which only makes Phaine more nervous. And you can’t just like, tell someone, “Hey, your heart is distracting me, could you like, chill it out” that gets you some REAL looks. She hadn’t mentioned the senses she had, or her age. Not entirely a deception, but a little edge in case something happens. She still doesn’t know for sure this is a safe place to be, because something else she didn’t mention is that there is no guarantee that ANYTHING she’s read about them is true here. This could be any universe, and stories are just that, stories.

Cass leads her up to the fourth floor, and to a room a few doors back from the elevator and stairs. She opens the door and Phaine balks a little. “Oh shit, this is like, a studio apartment. I could do some of my routines with this much space.”

Cass smiles, “Space to dance.”

“Oh! Right, you do ballet, don’t you?” Cass looks surprised for a moment, but nods, “uh, sorry, it’s probably really weird having someone you’ve never met knowing so much about you. But like, I’ve never actually seen ballet and I like dancing, so like, maybe I’ll get to see you dance if I’m here long enough? That’d be cool, like, if you’re okay with it. I’m rambling, um, sorry.”

“Would love to…Clothes in the wardrobe… Night.” She smiles and waves before closing the door behind her.

A deep breath, then looking in the wardrobe as instructed. Some girl style clothes, not exactly her size, but close enough. Why do they have these just like, ready to go? Wait, Cass isn’t actually much bigger than her, maybe these are some of her spares? That’s a little embarrassing, but less embarrassing than the alternative. She pulls out something that passed for PJs and decides she’s too tired to think any further about it.

Flopping on the bed she suddenly feels very small. Half a dozen of her could fit in this bed and none of them would even need to sleep at a weird angle. She’s briefly worried she’ll feel too exposed to fall asleep, but then she yawns. “I guess it’s been a long day.” She closes her eyes and fades out before long.

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