Present Day

I heard a loud crash and immediately jumped awake, eyes scanning my room around me for an intruder and finding no one. I listened carefully, sitting still in my bed, but didn't hear anything like someone coming in my direction. Still, I quietly got out of bed and made my way across the short distance and peered around the canvas divider.

Watching Jason in my kitchen, mumbling to himself as he picked up broken shards of glass from the floor. I sighed, padding out barefoot towards him, slightly annoyed to be woken up. He looked up at my approach, eyes blood shot, and I looked down to find that the glass he'd broken was a bottle of beer.

"Jeez, drinking this early?" I said with a shake of my head. "Are you even old enough? What are you, like, 17?"

"19, which is more than old enough in Europe," he responded, trashing the shards in his hand. "And it's not the early you think it is."

"What?" He nodded in the direction behind me and I turned to the windows, dark outside but for the moon and distant building lights. "What time is it?"

"2 A.M.," Jason answered with a shrug. "I tried waking you up earlier, but uh, your plants didn't seem to like that plan." I raised my eyebrows at him curiously and he sighed, grudgingly sharing more. "Anytime I went anywhere near you, the stems and whatever lashed out and hit me. I don't make a habit of continuing to try to do something nice when plant life decides to bitch slap me."

I couldn't help myself; I snorted a laugh that made him drunkenly glare at me. I knew that my plants would protect me while I slept at night, but it'd been so long since anyone else was around me that I'd forgotten about it. It was good to know, at least, that they still looked out for me.

"Have you checked the news? Seen if they said anything about last night?" I asked, choosing not to comment further on his embarrassment.

Jason shrugged again. "Didn't want to intrude too much on your space, being a guest and all."

I stared at him blankly. "You helped yourself to my beer."

"Well, yeah, that's different. Everyone knows a good host lets you get what you need from the kitchen. Food and beverage are necessities for survival."

"Yeah, somehow I doubt God was including alcohol in that decision during creation," I replied.

"Depends on your belief. Dionysus is my number one. Man knew how to party," he smirked. I rolled my eyes with a shake of my head as I headed towards the couch, the pillow and sheets surprisingly still neatly sitting in a pile on it. Almost as if he hadn't touched them at all.

After accidentally trashing Batman's safe house the night before, I'd felt a little bad about leaving Jason in the apartment with cold, high altitude winds blowing around it. Given that our new little friend Hurricane was on the loose, it also didn't seem like the safest thing for him. Whether the original target or not, Hurricane had his eyes set on Jason and a windowless penthouse seemed like a more than easy target.

It took about a half hour of arguing and another twenty minutes of guilt tripping, but I eventually wore him down into crashing at my place.

Apparently it was a little much to assume he would actually sleep.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the tv to one of those 24 hour news channels, hoping to see something about the botched gala from the night before. Instead, all there was was a debate among news anchors of whether global warming was real or not and if it had any effect on the surprise storm the night before, including an apparent earthquake that centered on a few city blocks downtown.

Even without Hurricane's interference, I was tired of hearing the stupidity on that topic.

I clicked off the tv again, grabbing my laptop from the table before me and booting it up.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, carefully coming up behind me to look over my shoulder. The hairs at the back of my neck rose a bit at the idea of someone behind me but I had to force myself to remember he was a BatKid. So far he'd helped me rather than harm me; those things had to mean safety enough.

"Looking up what happened last night," I answered.

"And what exactly are you hoping to find?" he pried.
"'Douchebag Brit Responsible for Freak Storm'? 'Mafia Outsourcing Metahumans'? What?"

"I don't know, okay," I snapped, annoyed. "I just... I always look up a job after it's done, whether it went well or not. I have to more or less keep a low profile and I can't exactly do that if people are running around saying they saw Poison Ivy at the scene of the crime."

"You're not Poison Ivy," he said dumbly. "Not to mention, the last I heard, she was in Arkham."

"Which is the exact sort of thing that would draw attention, don't you think?" I looked over my shoulder at him and he nodded, a curious glint in his eyes. I realized then that, though they were bloodshot, his eyes were as alert and assessing as they had been the night before. He may have had a few drinks while I slept, but he wasn't drunk. The faint shadows under his eyes was just proof he hadn't slept.

His lips parted to speak, and I knew what he was going to ask before he did it. "You never told me what—who—you are. I thought maybe you were Ivy's daughter—"

"As most assume," I mumbled under my breath. I still didn't know exactly who my parents were, but I knew she wasn't one. Finding that out was the first in a long line of let downs.

"But that scream was fucking Canary level strong," he finished.

I sighed, staring at the blank screen that was my wallpaper. Not too long ago it was a photo of me, Dick and Donna but every few months I had to take it down to keep the emotions at bay just a little longer. It was both a blessing and a curse not to see it while the news of Donna was circling in my head.

"I don't know anything about my past or why I have the powers I do," I answered flatly. "Clearly, I'm a metahuman but I don't know who my parents are or why they left me at the side of Gotham river for dead; no clothes and no memory."

"Huh..."

"What?"

Jason turned slightly, leaning his hip against the couch back and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at me. "It's just...I know someone who was kind of in the same situation, I guess. He saved my life with his abilities but when I asked what he was he had no fucking clue. Turns out he was a clone made out of Lex Luthor and Superman's DNA. Fucking Superman! I mean, the people who did it are pretty fucked up and caused a lot of damage but still. I don't know, maybe..." He trailed off like he wasn't sure of how to say it.

"Maybe I'm a clone, too," I finished for him. The light of excitement that had started coming to his features faded as if he suddenly realized how much that changed things for me.

"Look, I don't know if you came from the same place or not, okay? For all I know, they were only working on experiments with Lex and Superman's DNA. What need would they have for messing with anyone else's?"

Gee, I don't know, creating dangerous walking weapons against the superheroes of the world maybe?

"It couldn't hurt to look into it, though, right? Just, give Dick a call and see what he has on them so far. I don't know, maybe he can ask Conner or Gar if they remember anything else—"

"I can't call Dick," I said gruffly.

"I have his number if you need it."

"I don't. I just... I can't call him."

"Why not?"

"I just fucking can't, alright bird boy? Just stop fucking asking me or being bitch slapped by a plant will be the least of your worries tonight." I didn't look at him as I spoke but the speedy rise and fall of my chest paired with my tone must've warned him enough that I was pissed.

Jason pushed off the couch and dug around in his pocket. "Okay, I'll call and ask him—and I won't mention you at all!" He added swiftly at the dark look I tossed his way. "I'll make something up. Maybe say it has something to do with Hurricane. I'm great at lying; he won't suspect a thing, I swear." I didn't know how to answer in words so I just nodded, watching him make his way towards my front door, his phone in hand. "I'll be right back. I'll make the call from outside."

He closed the door behind him, but in my mind I wasn't seeing Jason leave.

I was watching Dick, his hand on the doorknob, back tense as he fought with himself not to turn and look back at me. Watching as he lost, the slightest turn of his head giving him a side eye view of me keeping my face an emotionless mask.

With the click of the door closing, just like I had that last night I saw Dick, the dam holding the emotions back inside of me broke down as I trashed the apartment and almost everything in sight.

********

About five minutes after the damage was done, I realized that I probably shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me with an annoying Bat Jr detective around. He was undoubtedly going to want to know what happened and I was undoubtedly going to punch him in the face. Considering he was helping me get information I needed, I didn't want to deal with that situation.

Ten minutes, and halfway through my clean up, later I was righting the stools at my kitchen counter when I heard the door open and close again behind me. I didn't bother to turn around as I said, "The next words out of your mouth better be about that information you were supposed to get for me, or nothing at all. Got it?"

"Absolutely," came the answer, though not in the voice I was expecting it to. This one had an accent that was still fresh in my mind and made me freeze where I was, hoping I was hallucinating. But no such luck. "Might I ask what information that would be, though?"

I turned around casually, annoyed by the unwelcome guest and the inevitable undoing of all my cleaning. At least I would have a cover story for the mess and wouldn't have to explain anything.

"I've had a really long night and I'm not really up for dealing with you right now," I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. "By which I mean I really don't want to deal with you, not that I couldn't if I had to. You know, just to be clear."

Hurricane smiled at me smugly, pissing me off more. "But of course," he said with the smallest of sarcastic bows. "I would never dream of thinking otherwise, Emmy. You know me better than that."

"I've known you for all of twenty minutes, so if I know you at all based off of that then you have a lot of work to do on your personality. Starting with getting one."

He hummed lightly, the smile faltering only briefly before he plastered it back in place. "So you don't remember me, then? They really gave you a reset, that's what you're trying to get me to believe?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. I didn't like the way he was talking; like he knew me and the events that lead me to where I was. And I definitely didn't like how much I wanted to believe it, if only to get the answers I wanted so badly. "Of course I remember you; you tried to kill me last night. Come to think of it, how did you even know it was me and where to find me?"

"Your gifts gave you away last night," he answered, leaning himself against the wall casually. "You're the only person I know who can harness both such abilities. As for how I found you, let's just say I've learned the language of the wind since the last time I saw you."

"Before yesterday, I've never seen you a day in my life," I returned. "So why do you keep talking as if I have?"

"Because we've known each other nearly our entire lives, Emmy. You can't remember it in this moment but if you come with me, I can fix that. I'll make sure they fix it." He stared at me with intense blue eyes, the attempt at charm I'd come to expect disappeared from his face. "You have my word, Em, I wish to help you. In this moment, I am not Hurricane; I'm just Daniel."

"Why do you keep calling me Emmy?"

"It's what I've always called you; it's your nickname—" he began to answer before the anger fueled adrenaline in me forced me to interrupt.

"Don't say that. Don't talk to me like you know me; like you care."

"I do, Em—"

"Stop it."

"Let me help you."

"Shut up."

"Listen to me—"

"Stop talking."

"I'm trying to help you—"

"I said, shut the fuck up!" I exploded loudly, the walls around us vibrating from the barest minimum of my power in that scream. What I did let go, full force, was my inner cry out to my plants who immediately came to my aid.

Their stems and vines stretched out without any real direction from me, zooming across the room and coiling around Hurricane like an anaconda around its prey. He grunted out a pained sound and winced as they tightened, looking at me with annoyance. "You aren't trying to help me with shit. You don't know me, we didn't grow up together, you aren't shit to me. And you definitely don't give a fuck about me because if you did, if you cared as much as you keep trying to say you do, then where the fuck have you been for the last nearly seven years?"

"Not looking for you," he answered through his teeth, straining against the pressure around him. I felt a phantom stab in my chest from the words for some reason and then he cried out "fuck" as I watched patches of red bloom on his skin and clothes.

The plants had sprung thorns.

"But, not because I don't care," he continued. "I wasn't looking because they said you were dead."

"Well, clearly, someone fucked up, didn't they?" I spat back, not allowing myself to believe his words. Not because they didn't sound likely but because if I did, if I accepted that as true, then it meant someone truly had left me for dead.

And I didn't know who it was.

"Yeah, and if you trust me we could take care of them together; that didn't sound like a horrendous idea to you before, remember?" He was nearly pleading with me to trust him but instead of working, it made me more suspicious.

"I trust no one; least of all a criminal like you."

"Criminal?" he laughed, a hiss of pain following it. "You can't possibly be judging me, love? D'amato says he's run into you before, and you're the farthest thing from innocent. Says he's heard stories of someone fitting your description among the streets and you steal that which was stolen, but it never returns to its rightful owners. Emmy, my dear, if I'm a criminal then that'd make you a crime boss."

The arrogance in his smirk as he said it pissed me off more but the words themselves made my heart drop into my stomach. They were so close to the words Dick had said to me the last time I saw him. So close to what had turned my semblance of a life on its head.

"Stealing something stolen from the thieves who did it, is not the same," I responded. "For it to be considered stolen from them, it first has to truly belong to them. What I do is return the items to market, where they belong. Not in some lazy asshat's safe where he can come to gloat about having stolen it when really it was the men he sent in his place who'd done it."

"You're full of shit, d'you know that?" he laughed again.

"Yeah? And you are shit. So—" My words were cut off by the echoing sound of gunshots outside and I stupidly diverted my attention at the sound. My building complex wasn't one for any sort of gun violence, which meant whoever was out there was here with Hurricane. "You brought D'amato's men with you?"

"Those idiots? No, of course not; I'm not even here on his behalf. I did, however, bring some back up to keep your little friend preoccupied, though," he smiled. "I wonder how well his body holds against bullets without his night time armor. Curious?"

That was enough to make me lose the rest of my sanity.

I didn't know Jason well, sure, but he seemed like a cool kid. And he was a Robin which meant he was family to Dick. With Donna gone, I didn't want to even think about how he would react to losing more family.

I didn't want him to lose anymore family.

Which meant I needed to deal with Hurricane fast so I could get out there and help Jason.

I focused my energy on the vines already crushing around him, willing them to tighten more; to spur more thorns, longer and sharper than the firsts. He cried out as the damage was done, throwing his head back in agony before dropping it to glare at me; his eyes a deep and dark stormy blue. There was a crack of thunder and the smashing of the window glass behind me before lightning lit up the room and struck my vines. Just as before, they caught fire and I screamed as I felt their agony inside of me.

Flower petals, sharpened like daggers, dropped off my decorative plants and came together to fly at Hurricane, slicing into his cheek, neck and arms until he summoned storm winds to redirect them into the fridge door. The gunshots in the hall sounded like they were getting closer, giving me hope for Jason's capacity to hold them off, and I opted for my best option to end this.

I breathed in as deep as I could, preparing to let loose the one thing I knew Hurricane couldn't redirect without still getting hurt in the process. My lips parted and I could feel the air in my throat about to push its way out with force.

Just as I started to release my sonic cry, the loud sound of gunshots behind me echoed in my ears and my chest was flooded with cold, sharp pains. The scream I let out was not the one I intended and the air that I'd filled myself with seemed to seep out before I could use it. I didn't understand any of it or what had happened until I looked down.

Three spots of red bled into one on my chest and with a light touch of my finger to one of them, I realized I'd been shot.

A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to take a minutes to thank you all for either adding this fic to your reading list and/or taking the time to read it. I am truly amazed and honored to have reached 2K reads after only a few chapters and a couple of weeks of posting. You all are amazing, so thank you.

How are you liking the story so far? Do you like Madalyn? Thoughts on Hurricane/ Daniel? Feel free to let me know in the comments below! ^.^