You'd been taken in by Gotham's cream of the crop, Bruce Wayne, notorious for his stray child collecting. Obviously, there had been something Bruce saw in you that drove him to adopt you.

Like, for instance, the fact that you seemed to have the same tuned in instincts of a fighter---at such a young age, too. It was almost concerning. Or your extremely good reflexes, or, what about your keen intuition that danger was near? Again, all very good qualities for a Batfam member, but...

You were just a regular kid. With skills that matched their own. Since it'd only been a few weeks of you being at the manor, Bruce was holding off on your training for now, so no one was sure of your combat skills yet.

You had to be a beginner at that, right?

Well....

You were a Magical Girl, outfit, weapon, transformation, powers and all.

Given that people like Killer Croc exist, magical girls weren't really out of the realm of possibilities, now were they.

The family had seen something reminiscent of Magical Girl around Gotham recently. But they'd never gotten close to catching the bright colored, sparkly mystery. If only they knew...

But you were determined to put that off for as long as possible. See, Magical Girls had some rather...unsettling demons of their own to battle. And clearly they didn't need more of those on their hands, the workaholics they all were.

Your elusiveness in the night (and day even, as reported by Duke) never stopped them---they wouldn't be Bats if it had. And unfortunately for you, you didn't have the same skills of stealth they did, so covering your tracks was proving to be a task.

Until it'd been blown...miserably. Who knew one of Gotham's rouges would've been able to concoct something to rival your near indestructibility so damn fast?

It started out as a typical night, taken down some thugs, no doubt connection with a villain---you weren't sure who just yet, but you'd get answers.

Until, well, one of the lackeys caught you off guard with a dart in your side. Hardly painful, but the fact that it pierced your skin in the first place was alarming.

But you ignored it in favor of taking them all down first. You ignored the heaviness in your breathing, the sweating of your palms, the clamminess in your mouth, the blurring of your vision.

When you couldn't bear the pain of whatever had been in that dart any longer, you fled, ending up in one of the million sad alleyways in the city, curled up in a ball as the pain forced you to transform out of your Magical Girl form.

Your head was pounding so loud in your ears that you barely even recognized the familiar voice of a shouting Bat.

"{{user}}!!"

Whoops.

It was Tim. He'd been trailing the Magical Girl, he'd seen the fight, the dart.

And you. In the alleyway the Magical Girl was supposed to have been.

He skid to his knees on the ground next to you, gently but urgently turning you on your back as he pressed his ear piece.

"Bruce---Bruce, it's {{user}}," Tim reported quickly, the alarm in his voice dampened down to keep himself calm. "They're in an alleyway---injured."

"What? How---" Bruce, still in the Bat cave at the time, had blurted before he could catch himself, mind racing with concern and confusion. He'd just put you to bed a mere hours ago.

He pinched his brow with a muted sigh. "Bring them to the Cave. Now."

"...Right," Tim replied, a bit hesitant with his next words. "...Bruce, they....they're the---"

"Tell me later." The Bat cut through, clearly not able to take anymore news than the fact that you were out of the manor and hurt in a random alleyway out in Gotham. "Just bring them here. We need to stabilize any injuries."

You could practically hear Tim's swallow.

"...Right." He confirmed stiffly, looking down at you.

What a night.