{augur}

Oracle was a little dizzy from starvation and heat haze. Luckily the sun had sunken low enough over the horizon that the barren desert had settled down, the temperature dropping fast. She bit her lip, struggling to recall what had happened to her. The six month memory gap was gnawing at her, itching and scathing at her brain. She had an amazing memory. The best memory, really, and yet… here she was. Stuck in Bialya in September. Not that she was scared, or anything, she was just incredibly irritated. Someone had screwed with her memories, and she was not pleased. She couldn't even call Batman to ask, because she'd gotten a surge from a broken memory telling her to keep the radio silent.

"Okay, Oracle," she breathed, stopping to keep herself from swaying. She held up her wrist, her holographic computer luminous in the dusk, glowing against her face and sending a burst of warm comfort throughout her skinny body. "Concentrate…"

There was too much haze, though. Her mind could not sort out the bits and pieces, the strings of time and the pulsing links that had fallen from the great chain that pushed the world onward, kept it spinning and spinning, orbiting a vast ball of light so radiant that it could fuel the entire planet with its rays. She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, but her head was abuzz with chatter and flickers of what could be. Nothing concrete.

"Great…" she sighed. She rubbed her masked eyes, scowling at her wrist as her head began to pound from over-exertion. She could hear Batman growling in her ear.

"—dangerous, Barbara. I didn't take you in as my protégé so you could be fooled—"

"You're not one to talk, you know."

Oracle shook her head. The voices gurgled and dispersed, but they left a bitter taste in her mouth afterwards. She clutched her forehead, blinking away her dizziness. She had to be careful with the links she brushed upon, or else she might see something she was not supposed to see. She understood that power was limited, and if she dug to far, the backlash could easily kill her. That was the price she had to pay to keep her from being omniscient.

A green girl was clutching Oracle close to her chest, squeezing her with a startling strength. "Oracle!" she gasped. Behind her, Oracle could see… Kid Flash? Weird. "Oh, you must not remember me… I can fix that, though!"

Oracle pulled herself out of the shivering link, grasping it with ethereal fingers as she gasped, her head pounding. It was a burst of pain, which faded quickly, but it kept her gasping for a few moments before she could regain her composure. A Martian, she realized, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself. She stumbled forward, masked eyes narrowing at her holoscreen.

"Why did I put a GPS here…?" she wondered aloud, tucking a long red curl behind her ear. Batman always criticized her hair choice, warning her that it was a tactical error to not keep her hair pulled back from her face. She sighed, her soft-soled boots padding silently across the sand. She stared for a moment as she came to in incline into a dune, her eyes widening a little. She dropped down, slender fingers sinking into the sand. There was a box down below, bulky and definitely not belonging there. "Oh…"

Oracle bit her lip, pushing herself up and flipping over a protruding rock, her feet skidding against the sand dune, kicking up a small cloud of dust as she landed softly. She pulled her hood up, brushing her curls back from her face. Her cloak settled around her, dark and sheer, rippling like water around her lithe frame. She stood for a few seconds, watching the box warily. Then she took a few steps toward it, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Ah ah!" a sing-song voice cautioned from above when Oracle's gloved fingers brushed the surface of the large box. She jumped back in alarm, her fingers slipping to her utility belt. Where did he come from? She withdrew a chakram, slim and plain, nothing but a lethal circle of steel. In the dim light from the horizon, the sharpened throwing disk looked like a halo. However, when she flung it at the boy standing upon the box, he dodged it easily, curling into a flip and landing before her on the tips of his toes. He was young, she saw, young and scrawny and… not Bialyan. Oracle's chakram came whistling back, and she caught it in her left hand, crouching back as the boy cocked his head at her. "Wow. Just, wow. So you're Oracle?"

"The one and only," she spat, taking in his appearance. He was smaller than her, skinnier too. He was wearing a dupion silk vest, opened at the chest to bare his bony, but stilly well-toned abdomen. He stood with an air of confidence to him that radiated like a beacon. He was dressed richly, his legs cloaked in dark harem pants that rippled when he moved, and a chain hung from his neck, a sapphire glinting at the hollow of his throat. His dark hair was windswept, and his eyes were so big and blue and brilliant, they shone brighter than the precious stone pressing to his neck.

"I'm impressed," said the boy, his eyes flitting up in down her body for a moment before settling on her face. "I didn't expect Batman's famous sidekick to be so…"

Oracle sighed, her eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. "Young? Girly? Tiny?"

He smiled, his lips pulling up to reveal a perfectly white grin. He shrugged his bony shoulders, his eyes flitted across her face. "Pretty," he said smoothly. Oracles eyes flashed wide for a moment, jerking back in surprise.

"Huh?"

His smile softened a little, his brow furrowing as he took another step toward her. She slid her chakram over her right wrist, listening as it clicked and spiraled and clicked again, panel folding over the weapon. "Stay back," she said, her chakram now a shield strapped to her forearm. She raised it in warning, her fingers against her utility belt.

"Stand down," the boy said. His voice was like silk, draping over her in a gentle wave, and she blinked slowly, her mind clouding over. She dropped her arms to her side, standing lax as he approached her, smelling of spice and sweat and something sweet. She stared at him for a moment, confused, and her mouth fell open as he stood just before her, his bright blue gaze level with hers. There was a lazy fog pressing against her thoughts. She couldn't process things properly.

They stared at each other, and she could barely breathe, she felt so stifled and panicked and… what else? Anxious? She wasn't sure. The boy was… nice to look at though. A smooth, unblemished face, and large, innocent blue eyes that captured the sky in its purest state, a smile so natural that it pulled her in. He was naturally charismatic, she could tell. Part of her wished the circumstances were different so she could examine him more carefully.

"Oracle," the boy said gently. His voice was honey and husky and the sound of dead leaves crushing beneath boots. He sounded lovely and terrifying, and it reached out to her. "Pull back your hood."

She raised her hands, pushing her hood of thin mousseline fabric back from her face. It pooled around her neck, lighter than air as it slipped against her skin. Her curls were a frizzy mess, the desert mussing them to the point where she was certain she looked more like a wild thing than this desert vagabond. He looked at her, and he raised his hand, whispering softly, "Stay still." She was locked in her position, frozen in place, and it was then that she began to fear for her life. When his fingers brushed against the curls resting on her shoulder, she felt the need to scream, to snap at him, but she just couldn't.

The boy pulled back, looking down at his feet for a few moments. Oracle's breath had yet to return to her. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and there was a flush creeping at her cheeks as the strange desire to do whatever it took to please this boy overwhelmed her. It sort of made her want to puke. But then, he wasn't really a threat, was he? Her mind was numb. She just didn't know.

"My queen wants you alive," the boy murmured, his eyes downcast. His words chilled her to the bone. His queen, she thought, regaining some semblance of sense. Queen Bee. He's one of her creatures.

"And you?" She scowled at him, not quite breaking from his spell, but gaining back her voice. It was shaky, though. She sounded like a weak little girl. Oracle watched him, and then she realized. She knew his face. "Your hers. Her… son?"

He looked up, and something flashed in his big blue eyes, something pained. But he smiled, this time a little tightly. "Ward," he said. "I have no interest in being her heir."

"Let me go," Oracle hissed. She was failing in her mental struggle. "Let's fight. Just me and you and our fists, Arabian Nights. Come on."

He laughed, and the sound was so pleasing to her ears, she nearly lost herself again. Her breath hitched, and she found herself blushing— it wasn't her fault, though, it was… just him. His stupid power. Oh, Batman was just going to eat this one up when he found out. The boy's eyes twinkled in the dimness, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

"Oracle, I'm not stupid," he snickered. He looked up at her with his bright eyes, and he bounced from foot to foot. "I can't take Batman's protégé. Though, rain check, maybe…?"

"Let me go."

He hummed softly, waggling a finger in front of her face. "Patience, please! I'm trying to think here!" He laughed again, this one richer and more genuine. She watched him incredulously. And by watching him, she could hear his voice in her head. It was slow and hushed, a secret for only her to hear, and it was clear to Barbara Gordon that she would be seeing this boy again.

"You have to believe me, Babs!"

Oracle studied the boy's face, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Who are you? she wondered, trying to shoo away the glimpse of the future that built its way to her line of vision like bile in her throat. But she didn't want to see it. She didn't want to know!

"This is so annoying," the boy grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. For a moment, his image flickered, distorting itself into someone bigger, a man, a large eyed, smiling man with a laugh like a song. He smiled at her with the most genuine smile she'd ever seen, and something in her melted a little. "You trust me, don't you, Barbara?"

His voice was so desperate, it sent a sharp pang through her brain, and she gasped, tears prickling her eyes. Too much future too fast. Too much she wasn't supposed to know, too much she didn't want to see or hear, and it hurt. Suddenly, the boy was before her again, and he looked horrified. He was saying her name— not Barbara, he didn't know her real name, not… yet— "Oracle? Oracle!"

"Get away," she gasped, breaking away from his horrible, binding spell, kicking him hard in the chest. He was sent flying backwards, his back slamming against the metal box. Oracle coughed, her body wracking as the world pulsed around her, links clinking inside her head, too much too fast, an information overload she had no desire for. She groaned, her fingers twining in her hair as she staggered forward, the future screaming little sorrows in her head, distorting to world around her. Sands turned to ice, to weeping tears and rain and to graves. She was on her knees then, still coughing, her entire body quaking. This happened sometimes. Her father thought it was epilepsy. Bruce Wayne and his butler where the only people in the world who knew it was a result of her clairvoyance— a result that may very well kill her in the future.

Batman said there was no certain cure yet. There was a corrective surgery he had looked into when he had first discovered her ability, and its possible fatality. But they had agreed that it was too dangerous, and so long as the soothsaying was kept benevolent, they would wait. Oracle's name had been a bit of a joke between herself and her mentor for a while— yes, Batman could joke, when he was in the mood to. But then, when she had pushed him into training her (at first she only played at mission control with Alfred to help guide her— she learned a lot from the old man, and she liked to consider him a mentor too), the nickname had evolved. Her ability was a secret, but the name was much more suiting than Batgirl, or something.

Oracle was clawing at the sand when her mind was dragged into a spiral of links, swirling and pulsating with maybes and definites and questionables. The chains were gnarled and glimmering, and they choked her around the neck and squeezed, slipping around her and digging into her sides, slithering down her throat and ripping her inside-out. The future was not meant to be seen or controlled. It was an entity in itself, and it hated her as much as she hated it. Maybe because it was locked up with chains and shackles, locked within her fucked up mind, so complex and erratic…

She was tilting his chin up, pressing a warm, damp cloth to the jagged cut running down his temple. He hissed, his big blue eyes snapping open as he jerked back. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"Baby."

It was him. Queen Bee's stupid boy, he was what had caused the imbalance in her control. Usually she could wrangle the future fine, keep the chains and links in check— she tried not to pry. She only brushed the surface of what she knew she could do, out of absolute terror of what the effect of a true delve into the mysteries of what was to come would be to her body. The future wasn't worth dying over.

"They all hate me," he was saying, older then, growing broader around the shoulders. His face was slimmer, but his eyes were the same, big and warm and perpetually wonderstruck. "I wasn't the one who killed her."

She could feel the sinking feeling in her heart then, even though she was looking at herself— her future self, not so different from her current self. She felt numb watching her eyes flicker with pity. "To us… you might as well have," she said— or will say?— in a quiet murmur.

She coughed again, spitting sand and dust and a cosmic residue sticking to her heavy tongue. She could hear the world warping back and forth. She could see the fabric of time unraveling and rewinding, locking up and thrown away, closely knitted strands and webs of possible outcomes and pinned points. For anyone else, it would seem like a hopelessly convoluted ball of strings, timelines converging and locking. But to Barbara Gordon— to Oracle? It was her gift and her curse to sort it all out.

She was laughing, and there was a glimmer of sunlight that fell upon bare arms that caught her around her midriff, lifting her into the air. She shrieked and kicked and laughed some more, summer sunshine glistening on his skin as he kissed her shoulder, then her cheek, and tossed her into a glittering pool.

That was what awoke her from her haze of future-dreams. She was on her hands and knees, her throat raw and her body aching. There was something hot flowing from one of her nostrils, and she could taste the familiar metallic tang of blood as it hit her tongue. She shuddered, the visions hitting her heavily, tickling her stomach and murmuring in her ear.

It was then she realized there was a hand on her back.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, scrambling away from him. Her heart was pounding, fear clawing at her insides. In the future, she thought, staring at the boy's handsome face. Do we…? She didn't want to entertain the thought.

"You're sick," the boy whispered. She swallowed, swiping the blood from her nose and struggling to her feet. "Oracle, I mean, I know I'm kinda the least reliable person to you right now, but… you should really get that checked out."

"Shut up," she spat, blood and spittle flying into the air. I'm not sick. Just… special. Too special.

The boy sighed, folding his arms across his bare chest. "Wow, you're really rude to someone who's just trying to be friendly—"

Oracle nearly fell over again when the boy was slammed into the ground, a blur taking him down with great ease. "A little overly friendly, I think!" Kid Flash humphed, shooting a careful glance her way. "Hey, O, long time."

"Kid," she breathed, feeling relieved. A green girl settled in the dust before her, brown eyes wide and excited. She grabbed Oracle by the shoulders, pulling her close to her chest and squeezing.

"Oracle!" gasped the Martian girl. Kid Flash cocked his head. "Oh, you must not remember me… I can fix that, though!"

"Okay," Oracle gasped, wincing a little as the Martian released her. She looked to Kid Flash. "Hey, be careful with—"

The boy was gone though. One minute he'd been there, on the ground, and the next…

But the future told her that this would not be the last she'd see of Richard Grayson. That thought both terrified, and excited her

Welcome to another AU. This time it's more of a what if. What if Barbara and Dick were metas? Well, secretly metas was the prompt from Mary (ameliafromafairytale)

So backstory time. What I figured was, if Dick's power is compulsion, maybe he bought himself more time at the circus, you know like save his parents by controlling Tony Zucco or something. Enough to land himself in the international tour. Anyway, you can use your imagination. Shit happened. Queen Bee took a special interest in Dick for obvious reasons. Similar powers, you know. I figured out the difference between Queen Bee's powers and Dick's. Basically, Dick doesn't use sexual attraction to control people. Just words. So he'd be able to control anyone, regardless of gender. However, his control would be a lot weaker than Queen Bee's. He has to speak to control a person, and depending on the person's willpower they can probably overcome the control. So, I seriously doubt he'd be able to control a GL or something.

I put a lot of thought into this. Barbara's powers are a bit trickier. Basically, she has the potential to be omniscient, but that would kill her. I had to put some kind of limitation on her power, because psychics are usually game breakers, and as cool as godmode Babs would be, it wouldn't make for a good story. Barbara is more or less the same, so her mind is brilliant enough that she can sort out the bullshittery of time. I mean, she can control it most of the time, but if something triggers her timey wimey detector (like meeting Dick does), or if she pushes herself too far into future events, she'll end up with a pretty bad nosebleed. And seizures, I guess. No, nothing can be simple.

In this AU, Barbara takes Dick's place as Batman's first partner. Maybe Batman saved her once, idk, she was probably in the hospital a lot before Bruce 'diagnosed' her. Jeez, I did so much world building with this one, it sucks I probably won't do anything else with it.