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One minute waking up on Barbara's couch, the next -- flash bang -- in New York? And not only New York, but an abandoned New York that looks like Poison Ivy's just had a party?

Okay ... well, I've probably dealt with weirder.

Dick lifts a hand to scrub his head, shaking sleep out of his eyes, and sets about finding several things. First, food. It'd be a damn crime if there were no Big Belly Burgers left at the end of the world. Then a place to finish his nap. Then maybe someone who can tell him what's going on.

But really, really, first food.

The boy has his priorities right.

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"...so he's a meta, and he can acquire other abilities by killing people who have them," Dick says. Which is exactly what she just said, but he's clarifying for himself.

"Definitely sounds like a Bad Guy to me."

"I don't know if he had one to start with or not, but he sure as hell does now."

She fails to comment on whether or not he's Bad. He's certainly annoying, and also quite scary. Bad? Well, that will have to wait.

"Does that make you a target?" Dick asks, the thought only just now occuring to him. He frowns at the landscape as if it might be hiding a head-ripping-off vengeful monster. "How about your friend?"

"Chandra isn't."

Regardless of necessity, it's damned uncomfortable discussing her power in the open. Rather than respond directly she flicks her fingers at a blade of grass ascending stubbornly from a crack in the sidewalk.

It leaps upwards in a highly improbable growth spurt, nearly doubling in size.

"Gabriel was holding off on me because we were friends, but apparently now that I know what he's up to that goes out the window."

Bitter? Darla? Naaaaah.

Dick nods,not particularly surprised or bothered by this.

"Okay, so first priority is get you guys to somewhere he can't find or can't attack. Any ideas?"

"No good ones. Honestly, I'm more concerned about the triffids. He's tried for us twice and wasn't much trouble either time. They, on the other hand, nearly got us."

And she hasn't seen any since but that doesn't mean they're not there.

"Right, triffids. I forgot those." He shakes his head, half-laughing. "Are we talking -- triffids straight out of John Wyndham? As in Day Of The? Walking plants, right?"

"Walking plants," she confirms. "Stingers, little rattly bits, the entire proverbial nine yards of ambulatory herbiform death."

"Wow. I'll have to get a snapshot before I leave -- provided I can find a camera.

"I guess that also means we stay away from suspicious vegetation."

Hey, for a man froM Gotham, 'suspicious vegetation' isn't even an amusing turn of phrase.

"Don't worry. I think they're the plant equivalent of pack animals; if some show up, you'll know."

For what it's worth.

"Is the whole world like this, or just New York?"

"I haven't been out of New York since I got here, but do you really think this city would be this-- flat--" and again, the tone of a woman whose home city has been desecrated-- "and nobody outside would try to do anything about it? If I had to bet, I'd say the rest of America's the same. At least."

"Well ... good to know, at least. Okay, so we're heading out of America first."

Thoughtful frown.

"Is this one of the Earths that has a Gotham? I might be able to get my hands on some useful things there, or in the Haven."

Like batplanes and batboats and bat-surviving-apocalypse-kits!

"How would I know?"

She gestures around her at the obvious destruction.

"This is all I've been seeing since yesterday. I can tell you there's no Gotham where I'm from, but that's hardly indicative."

If she sounds peevish, well, there were triffids in Central Park. 'Nuff said.

"First priority is to get out of here, then try for Gotham," Dick decides, and sets out in a random direction. Then stops.

"...with Chandra. Which way?"

"Down this road." She nods to a side street. "Watch out for dead triffids."

"I thought it was the live ones that were deadly." He sets off that way anyway, with a glance to check that she's following.

"Anything you've found effective against them -- apart from slicing their heads off? I'm short of boomerangs at the moment."

This last is not a joke, although it sounds like one -- batarangs would be ideal if these triffids are anything like the ones Dick remembers from his reading.

"I make them explode; Gabriel ripped them up with telekinesis; Chandra tends to hide; you'll probably have to find your own way. And the leftovers aren't deadly, but they're a bit of a--"

They turn the corner, and see a vista of mushy green bits splattered all over road, sidewalk, and the crumbling walls of buildings.

"--tripping hazard."

"I ... see that, yeah." He looks vaguely amused.

"You're staying near here? They're attracted to -- electricity, or something -- no, noise, right?"

"Noise, yes. But I've found a decent way to keep them from bothering us."

"Mmm?" He shoves a few of the thicker trunks aside, carefully, and gestures to her to go through.

"You'll see. Thanks."

As they get out of the piles of dead triffid and into a flatter area, she points at a multicoloured shape looming near the end of the street.

"There. The tallest building I could find that had gardens. Triffids can't climb, you see."

And it would seem she's reinforced the walls with... plants. Blooming, twining, force-grown plants.

Hey, it works.

If it works, it works. Dick even nods approvingly at her judgement.

"I like it. I still think we should leave the city, though."

"We were planning on it as soon as we could find a working car. Any ideas?"

Dick regards the street doubtfully. "Possibly out further towards the highway, or families' second cars that were left behind -- where are all the people, by the way? This place smells bad enough, but it ought to be worse if nobody got out."