There was a large ship out in the middle of the quiet ocean. It bobbed in the waves as it seemed just to be drifting for the moment, the occupants not caring where the sea took them. Said occupants were actually not all that quiet, but it didn't matter because they were the only ones within at least a twelve mile radius of the open sea.

There was quite a party going on among the pirates on board because they were celebrating a victory. There had been another ship near them one point in time, but it was sitting at the bottom of the ocean. The various men and women were cheering and drinking as much rum as they could, celebrating with the finest of their alcohol as well.

Down below the rumble of drunk pirates, music, and other festivities, a boy not a day older than the age of fifteen stood in a dark prison on the ship. The few of the living crew members were shackled to the wall and were forced to stand. The boy looked at them without any real emotion on his face.

The boy wore a loose fitting light orange shirt with gray shorts which was the style of clothing which was typical of the other male pirates on the ship. He sported no weapons except for a sword which he was quite skilled in using. The other shipmates usually preferred automatic weapons to do the deed. Although the boy was trained to use them, he preferred the risk of using a sword. So far, he had been successful ever since he was allowed to fight and attack at age eleven. Before that, he was a child of the ship and watched his family, as he called them. From a young age, he was exposed to death and violence.

The other pirates had dark skin and hair, sporting brown eyes whereas the boy had striking red hair, green eyes, and light skin (which had tanned due to sun exposure). His father, Guuleed, put a strong hand on his shoulder and smiled cruelly at the unfortunate people who were taken prisoners. The boy didn't flinch when the prisoners began to swear at him in a language he didn't understand. He looked up to his father in confusion. "The prisoners are from India," his father, the ship's very own captain, explained in Somali. The boy nodded and looked back at the prisoners. "I'll let you handle their deaths." Guuleed removed his hand and took a step back. "Do as you wish, Khaalid."

The boy, Khaalid, grabbed a plant which was sitting on an old table off to the side. He placed the dead plant in front of him. The prisoners began to laugh and make fun of him, but the boy wasn't distracted. He cut his finger against his sword. He bled into the plant and it slowly came back to life. This made the prisoners stop speaking.

Khaalid's eyes began to glow a bright green as he slowly raised his hands, commanding the plant to grow. It grew and grew until it was wrapped around their throats. The fingers on his right and were spread out until he closed them quickly. The vines crushed the prisoners' necks. Their eyes went wide as they struggled to breathe and claw at the obstruction to their windpipes. When their mouths were open, a vine was shoved into each one of their mouths and then they were dead.

"Good job, son," Guuleed patted his shoulder. Khaalid smiled at his father and was proud of his deed. Murder didn't faze him and he knew those people deserved to die. Unlike most pirates, Khaalid and his family fought crime on the seas and ended people's lives who caused other places much trouble. Of course, their whole operation was illegal and they were hunted from time to time by law enforcement, but this did not happen often since the law enforcement tended to go "missing".

"Can I go hang out with my friends now?" Khaalid asked. He wasn't the only teenager on the ship. He was the youngest, but was well respected by the few seventeen year olds.

"Of course. Go have fun," his father chuckled as the boy bolted up the ladder with glee. Khaalid couldn't wait to tell his friends how he just killed those other pirates. His friends had always accepted him from the beginning even though he wasn't a normal human. The boy was well accepted; he looked like any normal boy, but he was not fully human. The boy embraced this fact about him and he enjoyed being a hybrid because it meant he was cool and what teenager didn't want to be?

Meanwhile in Gotham, Rosie was outside in the gardens of the Wayne Manor. It was cold out, so she wore her pea coat, scarf and matching gloves, and her boots. The plants told her someone was approaching her, but she didn't seem to care to turn around or ask who it was. Regardless, she whispered a thank you to the mostly barren trees and bushes. Of course, it just had to be Damian. He stood beside her and she had to suppress herself from scoffing at the fact that he didn't wear a heavier jacket and decided to enter the cold Gotham winter with subpar clothing. "I know you killed him on purpose."

"I never killed anyone, Damian," Rosie murmured.

"You killed the man who created you," Damian stated, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't," Rosie replied and continued to stare out in front of her.

"You tripped him on purpose, knowing he would fall to his death."

"Damian, I swear to God if you don't get out of here…"

"You'll what?" he asked her. "Kill me, too?"

"You slaughtered people before, so why do you even care?" Roselyn bravely asked him.

"I don't," the boy shrugged.

"Stay away from me," Rosie warned him.

"This is my house, plant. I'll do as I please."

"I said stay away from me!" Rosie turned towards him, a dangerous look on her face. Her eyes began to glow green and Damian smirked. This was what he wanted. She stopped herself from summoning any plant life to make him go away for the time being. Instead, she calmed herself down.

"You're just like her. You're Poison Ivy. You can't relate to humans. However, she at least acknowledges she cannot relate to my species. Unfortunately, you do not seem to be able to realize you aren't human. Poison Ivy used to be this species. You never were." With that said, Damian turned around and left her standing there in the cold gardens. She allowed herself to drop to her knees and let the tears fall down her cheeks. It was so cold, she could have sworn she felt them freeze on her face before they could drip down her chin.

"There you are, Rosie. Damian said he saw you out here," Selina said. Rosie couldn't even look at the elegant woman who probably looked amazing all bundled up in winter gear. Rosie's shoulders shook with sadness as she took in the hate and let it repeat in her head over and over again, just like the letters she hid under her bed. "Rosie?" Selina's voice was quiet. "Did he say something mean to you?"

"Why does he hate me so much?" Rosie whimpered. It was one thing for random people to hate her, but it was another when Damian was supposed to be part of her family. Selina brought Rosie into a hug and rocked her back and forth, similar to the way Ivy would.

"I can't even excuse his behavior," Selina replied. "This needs to stop."

"Nobody can stop him," she sniffed. "I don't want to be alone when he's around. He gets to me when I'm by myself."

"Then you stick with me until Barbara and Dick get back from their honeymoon," Selina said.

"Thank you," Rosie snuggled into the embrace.

"Come on, let's go inside and get some hot chocolate."

"Can you put whipped cream on it?" Rosie asked. Selina nodded, stood, and helped Rosie to her feet. Although Rosie knew many people didn't like her, she appreciated the small few who made her feel like a human even if she wasn't one. After all, she could always pretend, couldn't she?

What did you think?

I have no idea what the title to the sequel will be, but I definitely have an idea I'm working with. I don't know when it'll be up, but keep an eye out!

Thank you to all of the readers and reviews and the people who PM me. You guys are what's keeping this whole series alive!