2 Waking Up Different

I didn't die. I was just changing. And hoping. Hoping that the virus wouldn't turn me into a mindless monster.

I was fine with just becoming a monster.

I felt my insides melt into goo, yet my body kept its structure. My cells were all becoming a mixture of all other cells. Muscle cells, bone cells, nerve cells, brain cells, blood cells...they were all getting squished together to make a new cell. Something I called 'Biomass' during my testings on animals.

But other than this change I felt...free. Free of the limitations that made me human and weak. I felt control over every part of my body that was changed by the virus. I felt...stronger.

Slowly, as the changes were happening, I rose from the ground. I could hear them entering the lab but I wasn't scared. I don't know why, but I just couldn't feel fear from these people anymore. It was like something was telling me that I was stronger than them. Better than them.

It didn't take long for the first soldier to come in through the destroyed door, pointing his gun around the room.

I just walked up to him.

If the virus did its job, bullets would no longer hurt me.

As I didn't make an effort to hide my presence, the soldier turned his gun to me and quickly fired off a few shots to my chest and then my head.

I felt the pain. I felt the bullets splitting my skin and flying through my body. But that was it. I barely even moved as the bullets hit me. They passed through me as I allowed my body to part where the bullets hit.

Smiling at my newfound power, I walked toward the soldier who just continued to fire. As I got in front of him I sent a hit to his chest.

I only wanted to wind him. I knew my strength had most likely been enhanced and I only sent a light punch thinking that would be adequate...

So why did my fist go through his body armor and then his flesh like it was a hot knife through butter?

Before I could even realize what I'd done, black and red tendrils burst out of my arm and engulfed the soldier in Biomass before...absorbing him like a sponge absorbs water. Then came the influx of memories and feelings.

His name was Brian Long. He was a half-Chinese, half-American. His parents had met when his mother moved from China to America for better opportunities. They feel in love with one another and in 1983, Brian was born. He was 36. 20 years ago he joined the military after faking his papers and was found to be a talented and hardworking recruit.

He worked his way up the ranks, getting into more and more elite squads until he met his wife, a medic.

His wife is called Bethany. They had two children, Tyler and Michelle.

He loved them.

And now he was dead.

I heard a sharp intake of breath in front of me and turned my groggy and confused eyes towards the sound.

"You okay, Long?" a woman asked me, and I tilted my head in confusion, "We heard a bit of noise; have you found the target?" she got closer to me, still aiming her rifle around the room. What was she doing? I'm the target. I'm right in front of her.

"What--" I stopped talking as soon as I started. My voice. It was different.

...It was Brian Long's.

But I'm not Brian Long. I'm Alex Mercer. I am Alex Mercer. I'm not anyone else. I'm aLeX MeRcER.

My confusion turned into dismay as I grabbed the woman by the throat and lifted her like she was weightless. Because she was. At least to me. "I'm right here!" I shouted, "I'm the TARGET! I'M ALEX MERCER!" I shook the woman back and forth, my dismay turning quickly to confused anger. Why was my voice different. Why was it Brian Long's? Why wasn't it Alex Mercer's--My voice. Why wasn't that my voice?

The soldier I was ragdolling didn't do nothing as I did what I did. She turned her rifle to me and shot at my arm to make me drop her. It was like she didn't want to kill me. Like I was her teammate.

Her bullets hit my shoulder and instead of blood, nothing came out. Only a splash of red and black biomass which quickly reformed back into the special forces gear I was apparently wearing.

When she saw this, the soldier quickly realized I was telling the truth and turned the rifle toward my head and opened fire. She emptied her mag into my face but it didn't do anything. I was still holding her up, and squeezing my hand around her neck while I was thinking for answers. Until I saw my reflection on a broken mirror at my feet.

I was dressed exactly how Brian Long was when I killed him. I was shorter, slimmer, and I saw black eyes looking back at me instead of the ice blue I was so used to seeing.

I didn't look like me anymore. I looked like Brian Long.

*Crack!*

The soldier in my grip went limp as I broke her neck in a moment of weakness. My mind was a mess.

And before I could suppress myself, the tendril shot out of my hand again and absorbed the corpse held up by my hand. The same influx of memories came into my head again.

Sarah. That was this woman's name. She was 32. She was pregnant, actually. She didn't know that but I did. As I absorbed her, I absorbed everything about her, which included information on how her bodily systems had worked when she was alive. Her reproductive system was showing signs of life being birthed there. She was about 3 weeks pregnant.

From the memories, I could see that it wasn't her husband's child. She'd been cheating on him with another man. Which was a shame. Harry seemed to really love Sarah, from what I could get from her memories anyway.

I felt the influx of memories and felt both her and Brian's training embedding itself in my body. If before I knew how to fight like an amateur. Then now I had decades of experience in fighting and the hand-to-hand combat training of a Special Forces soldier. What allowed me to take the memories of people I'd absorbed?

Why did I absorb people?

Why did I feel better and stronger after absorbing people?

Why...why do I want to absorb more people? More...Biomass?

Looking back down to the mirror, I saw that I'd took on the appearance of a short-ish Hispanic woman with brown eyes, dressed in elite combat gear. Sarah's appearance.

But I'm NOT Sarah! I'm Alex Mercer!

I snapped my eyes shut and hoped this would work. I focused on my old appearance. On my REAL appearance. Red hair, golden yellow eyes, 6'4" in height, athletic build, decently good-looking...I focused and I focused, ignoring everything else. When I opened my eyes again, I looked into the mirror shards and saw my appearance had returned to normal.

"See? I'm Alex Mercer..." I mumbled to no one in particular, before looking around and seeing that I was surrounded by soldiers, all pointing their guns at me.

Focus, huh? If I focus, I wonder...how much can I change?

Testing that hypothesis, I concentrated even as they opened fire, even as the bullets from the rifles and pellets or slugs from the shotguns slammed into me. I concentrated and focused on my arm.

And it changed.

My arm turned black, with red veins running all over it, before it bulked up in size, especially around my forearm, and started lengthening. The arm curved before all my fingers merged and my arm no longer looked like an arm. From the front and outside edge of my 'arm', a silver-ish colored blade started to emerge and lengthened itself even further than my arm did. It had a metallic appearance, looked incredibly sharp, and ended in a sharp point. A spike of the same bio-metal came from my elbow.

Overall I was pleased with this level of manipulation.

My dismay and confusion on what had happened were passing, replaced by curiosity and wonderment: How far could my abilities go?

Was it bad that I wasn't feeling anything after killing two people? Oh certainly. It was terrible and only proved what I thought only moments ago. I'm a bad person. A monster. A beast. But as I learned all those years ago, even if people are assholes, the stronger asshole is in charge. I would have to be the stronger asshole if I wanted to get back at Amanda Waller and the government that betrayed me.

Such thoughts about being thrown under the bus instilled within me a rage that made me swing my bladed arm in a horizontal line in front of me before I quickly reversed direction and spun with the bladed arm extended outward.

The firing stopped. The soldier's bodies stood there, seemingly confused for a few seconds before they split in half, bisected.

This time, tendrils didn't come out on their own. I willed them out. I needed the experience to get the job done. The combined experience of a special forces, government hit-squad should be adequate, no?

As I absorbed their memories and their skills, I walked over to a cupboard nearby, my bladed arm being back to just a normal arm, and opened the cupboard doors, revealing a few big bags. Grabbing the bags I picked up the guns the soldiers had been using, took their spare ammo, any grenades they had on them, and chucked it all into one of the massive bags.

Flipping the bag onto my shoulder, I was joyful at my new strength. I would have to find out how strong I was.

But first I needed money.

And nothing pays quicker than crime, honestly. So I'm off to Gotham.

A pang of fear burst through me as I thought about a redhead I knew would come after me if she knew I was there, so my first case of business was making sure she didn't know I was in the city...but I wanted to see her. I wanted to speak to her and hear her voice. Killing may not affect me but having the memories of the people you kill...it's a slight mental burden. But one that I could easily be rid of if I just heard...her laughing.

Even if it's stupid, even if it could hurt her...I'm selfish enough to ignore such things.

So I'm off to Gotham to meet my only friend. Then I'll stay away from her and make the money I need to fund an operation against Amanda Waller.

. . .

POV Change - Barbara Gordon

It would be safe to say that my mood...isn't that good. Bruce had once again stopped me from coming on a mission against the Joker.

I didn't want to ever meet that pale-faced psycho, but the point is that I hate it when Bruce treats me like a kid! I know what happened to Jason...but I'm not Jason! I'm me! Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl. Hopefully, I'll become the first Batwoman as well...Anyway, the point I'm trying to get across is that the thing that happened to Jason wouldn't happen to me!

I think that deep down Bruce knows that but he's still scared. It got a bit worse when Tim went off to join that team...Teen Titans, I think it was called? Yeah, that sounds like something Tim would come up with.

Huffing, I sat in my room, lying on my bed with my phone held in front of me by a lazy hand. I scrolled through my contacts and looked for someone to speak to. Obviously, I couldn't speak to any of my friends about what I was annoyed about - can't exactly say 'Hey, I'm Batgirl and Batman wouldn't let me go on a dangerous mission with him!' can I?

...Well, I could. But Bruce would pop a vein in brooding anger if I did. So it's better to not do anything like that.

I stopped over a contact I hadn't tapped on or received a message from in over a year.

Alex Mercer.

My childhood friend who left for College and never came back. At first, I was angry. Then I was sad. I spent a few days eating ice cream and watching cheesy rom-coms, sometimes crying and wondering if Alex didn't want to be friends with me. Wondering if he'd found new friends in college and a computer nerd like me wasn't...necessary anymore.

Fueled by such thoughts, I used the supercomputer in Bruce's bat cave, to, maybe, just a little bit, do a tiny amount of stalking on Alex and what he was doing.

...Not my proudest moment, I'll admit. But it gave me answers.

Alex was working for the government. Like, the American government. I was proud of him at first. Then worried when I found out who he was working under:

Amanda Waller.

I told Bruce but he said there's nothing he can do. That he can't just take a government scientist away from them because Amanda Waller is a psycho-bitch. He didn't say the last part, that's what I think she is.

A bit of digging and I found out what he was trying to develop; a virus that could re-write the DNA in cells to aid in healing. Though I could see from the research that the applications of this virus could also be used for Super Soldiers. No doubt that's why Waller is so invested in the project.

I went to click on the name, wanting to see if he'd pick up when my phone went black before ringing.

I just looked at the screen.

'Alex <3'

Was flashing on my screen. I would never let him see this is how I have him named on my phone. He'd no doubt tease me to the ends of the Earth. But...A girl can dream, I guess? Especially when no matter what I did that dense idiot wouldn't look at me the way I wanted him to. Always looking at me as a friend...when I wanted to be seen as a woman.

And right now, that dense idiot was phoning me.

Nervousness, annoyance, anger, frustration, excitement...and pure unadulterated joy.

Fumbling, I dropped the phone on my face by accident, the elegant and graceful Batgirl nowhere to be seen. As my luck would have it, my nose accepted the call and I hurried brought the phone to my ear, "H-hello? B-Barbara Gordon speaking!"

I wanted to bury my head at my stuttered words, but I was soon put at ease when I heard his calm and deep chuckle. It seemed like his voice had fully matured in the time I hadn't spoken to him. It sounded...nice. Soothing. God forbid, maybe even...sexy...

My stupid, hormone full thoughts were interrupted as he spoke up.

"Still the same nerd who's a bit socially flawed, I see," his chuckle became a laugh that sounded...free, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, "It's nice to know you're still the same nerdy friend I left behind, Barbara~"

Those words. Those words along with the gentle teasing both made me want to melt and furrow my brow in annoyance. The former because it was nice to know he liked that I was still a fumbling idiot at times. Everyone nowadays expects perfection from everyone. I'm only human, you know? So it's nice to know I can be an idiot around the only person other than Bruce who's probably more intelligent than me without getting judged for it.

Why the latter? Because he referred to me as a friend.

It was stupid of me to be annoyed. How else would he refer to me? But alas, humans are pretty unreasonable. Especially us people from Gotham.

Before I could reply, too busy with my internal thoughts, Alex carried on, "Do you by any chance wanna meet up? I'm in Gotham. Got fired from my job in Arizona," he joked and I paled slightly. Fired by Amanda Waller and still alive? Is he about to be...? "I'll even buy you ice cream if you're still annoyed about the whole 'You'll have to wait for another year' thing~" he cooed, knowing exactly which buttons to press to make my annoyance at him dissipate like steam.

But my worried anxiety took precedence right now, not my teenage hormones, "Yeah, sure, we can meet up," I started, keeping my voice even and not wanting to tip him off about anything, "We can meet up at the park near my house and walk over to that ice cream parlor we always used to go to," I stated, knowing that being in a familiar place will help if anyone comes after him.

"Sure. See you there in about, I don't know, 10 minutes?" he asked with an even voice - couldn't he at least try to sound excited? - and I gave him a quick 'Yeah, see you then' before hanging up.

I had to help Alex. Even if he found out who I was.