Not According to Plan
Batgirl/Barbara Gordon and Nightwing/Dick Grayson copywright to DC comics.
The story belongs to me.
Karen Ritchel is a made up character.
Batgirl deeply inhaled the crisp night air. She closed her eyes.
"Quiet." She whispered softly. It was as if the entire world had stopped moving for a moment and the city of Gotham stood still. She opened her eyes to take it all in.
BANG! BANG!
The silence was all at once shattered by the sound of gun shots coming from a block or two away.
Her heart stopped at the sudden disruption, but she sprung into action towards the noise.
But she wasn't the only one to hear the gunshots.
When she arrived on scene, she saw shadowy figure emerge from a curtain of steam that appeared to be coming up from a nearby manhole. The shadow was short and round in stature.
"Penguin..." Batgirl hissed.
It was then that she noticed a second body, that of a woman, laying on the ground, clutching her shoulder. To an untrained eye she seemed like an ordinary bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Batgirl knew better. She recognized the woman's face from a scholarly journal she was reading for her advanced computer engineering class at the University. This woman was the leading expert on aerodynamics. Her inventions had made individual jetpacks a thing of the very near future. Though they were currently only available as prototypes. The scenario then became clear to Batgirl.
She clenched her jaw, getting ready to speak when suddenly she heard an all too familiar voice come from behind her.
"So Penguin, you thought you could kidnap this poor woman and steal her blue prints for the individual jet pack, huh?" Nightwing spoke with his usual smug demeanor.
Batgirl's stomach dropped as she turned around to see his signature smirk.
Nightwing was helping the injured woman up off the ground. Well I'm sure Doctor... uh..."
"Ritchel. Karen Ritchel." The woman spoke, wincing in pain.
"Dr. Ritchel here can tell you that Penguins aren't meant to fly."
'Damn that was a cool line.' Batgirl thought to herself, followed by a mental kick to herself for even thinking such a thing. She and Nightwing had not been on the best of terms after their breakup... 5 months ago. She still hadn't forgiven him for that terrible, awful, stupid thing he-
Bang.
Barbara's thoughts drew a blank as she watched another of Penguin's bullets fire from his pistol. It was as if it was soaring through space in slow motion as Barbara watched it puncture Nightwing's left torso.
"NOOOOO!" Batgirl screamed, reaching her hand out as Nightwing and Dr. Ritchel fell to the pavement.
She quickly turned, in her fighting stance toward Penguin, but he had disappeared. Back into the sewers. 'Where you belong...' she thought.
She turned to see that the GCPD and the ambulance had just arrived on scene. They tended to the Dr. RItchel's aid first. Batgirl dropped to her knees beside Nightwing, examining his wound as she fought back tears. 'Stupid! Why are you crying!?' She cursed herself. 'Why should I care if he gets shot?' She bit her tongue for thinking such a hateful thought. The truth was, she could't help but care.
One of the EMT's sat down beside them. "The bullet went clean through his torso. It doesn't seem to have cut through any vital organs. The best we can do is stitch him up." Barbara nodded. The protocol with super heroes is that they avoided going to hospitals at all costs. This was a precaution taken to protect their secret identities. The GCPD was in on it and therefore, whenever a super hero was injured on a crime scene, the EMT's would do their best to repair any damage right there on the spot. She held Nightwing's hand as the EMT injected a local anesthetic and began to stitch up the entry and exit wounds. She winced. After all these years of crime fighting, she had seen her fair share of bullet wounds, but they still made her uneasy.
"There. Done!" The EMT said. "Now, you're going to need to take him somewhere where he can lay low, and you can contact someone incase the stitches open up.
Batgirl let out a heavy sigh. She looked down at Nightwing who was passed out, probably from shock. "Let's get one thing straight, asshole. I'm doing this because I have to, not because I want to. GOT IT!" She was aware that he couldn't hear her, but she needed o justify it to herself.
She lugged his limp body onto the back of her motorcycle and sped off toward her apartment. Unfortunately for her, she lived on the third floor. She had to drag NIghtwing's 200 lb body up three flights of stairs.
'Well, at least this counts as my workout for tomorrow.' She thought as she unlocked her front door and rolled him gently onto her couch.
The first thing she did was take off her mask. Now she was Barbara Gordon again, though that didn't change the fact that her stupid ex-boyfriend was sitting on her couch with a dozen stitches in his body. Barbara changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and a tanktop. She then walked over to her dresser and dug up a pair of clothes from the very back.
She walked back to the couch, tossing the clothes onto Nightwing's lap. "There. You left those here. Now I can finally get rid of them." Her cold tone did not go unnoticed by Nightwing this time around. He was beginning to come to. He reached up the remove his mask. Now he was good ol' Dick Grayson again. With his thoughts still foggy, he could have sworn he was still in he and his girlfriend's shared apartment, where he lived for over two years. However, only seconds later, when his head was clearer, he remembered that this wasn't indeed his home anymore. And that wasn't indeed his red headed girlfriend who was scowling down at him, with her arms crossed.
"What happened." He said, clutching his side in pain as he sat up.
"You got shot. Stupid."
"You always did have the best bedside manner." He grunted. "But no worries, I'll be leaving now."
Barbara sighed. "You know I can't let you do that. You're seriously hurt."
"And?" His sarcastic tone has a way of making her blood boil, which seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies following their breakup.
"And, Stupid, you live alone. So no one is going to be able to stop you from bleeding out if your stitches open up from you flexing too hard while checking yourself out in the mirror."
"Who said I live alone?" He insinuated.
Barbara's cheeks flushed. Sure it had been five months. But had he really already moved in with another woman!? 'I bet you it's that slut, Zatanna!' Barbara thought to herself. But she had to maintain her composure. She had let Dick rule her emotions for far too long. "Then by all means, leave."
Dick was a bit taken back by her composure. He had expected a full on outburst from her, cussing him out, telling him how worthless he was, what a waste of time he was. He never fully understood why she was so cold toward him. But her indifferent demeanor was by far the coldest he had seen her yet.
He huffed. "Actually I'm not living with any-"
"Then lay down on the couch and shut up." Barbara said, she stormed off toward her bedroom and slammed the door.
Dick surrendered, he was tired, he was hurt, both physically and emotionally. He didn't know why he always insisted on pushing Barbara over the edge. Maybe so then, she would finally tell him why she was so angry with him.
He slumped back down onto the couch. His hand rested on top of his forehead. He began to recall the night he and Barbara had broken up.
It was late June or early July, he could't recall the exact day. But it somehow managed to turn from the best into the worst day of his entire life. It was the first night he and Barbara had made love. They were in this very apartment, in the bedroom that they used to share. The couple had waited over two years to consummate their relationship all the way. It was the most magical feeling. Dick's cheeks flushed just remembering the feel of Barbara's lips on his sweaty skin. Then, late that night Dick got the call. Wally, his best friend, the former Kid Flash, had been killed. He left the apartment without a word to Barbara. She awoke the next morning with no explanation from Dick, she had to find out about Wally's death through a debriefing two days later. She hadn't seen or heard from Dick in days. When he finally returned to their apartment, she had walked up to him, ready to embrace him and tell him how sorry she was about Wally's death and how she was going to be there for him every step of the way. This was arguably them most vulnerable Barbara had ever made herself.
It was followed only by,
"I'm leaving to Bludhaven." Dick stared blankly into her eyes. He walked into the bedroom and began to pack his things.
He hadn't noticed at that very moment, Barbara's heart had broken and her world had shattered.
The next thing he remembered was Barbara screaming at him, pulling at his arms, angry tears flying off her cheeks.
"SO THAT'S IT THEN!? YOU'RE JUST RUNNING AWAY!?"
He didn't respond. He continued packing his costume into a duffle bag.
"DID THAT NIGHT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU!? AM I NOT WORTH STAYING FOR!? I CAN HELP YOU!"
This was the first time in five months that Dick had looked back on that night. His eyes were rimmed with un-fallen tears. He hadn't noticed just how selfish he had been. So much had happened to him, he became so overwhelmed, so scared, he just had to run away. And now, for the first time in five months he returned to Gotham. He runs into that very same redhead he left behind and his first action is to get shot, leaving her forced to care for him.
Dick stood up off the couch. He saw Barbara's costume laying on the living room floor. He crouched down beside him, taking note of his blood on her glove.
'Here's a woman,' he thought 'who has every reason to despise me, and yet, she still holds my hand when I am injured. A truly remarkable woman.'
'And I up and left her. I took her completely, I took all her trust and then watched it shatter before my very eyes and did NOTHING!'
Dick swung open the doors of Barbara's bedroom, her back was faced toward him.
He could only leap toward her, grabbing her waist as tightly as he could.
"I-I didn't know." He stuttered. "I didn't know how badly I hurt you, Barbara, not until now."
She let out a jagged breath. Those words were enough to break her emotional barricade. She bit her lip as the first of many tears began to fall.
"I can't ever ask you to forgive me Babs." He wiped his tears on the back of her shirt.
"Don't... call me that." She freed herself from his grasp. "You don't get to call me that."
"You left me. You didn't say anything. You just left!" She began to sob. "You don't get to just leave and come back like this! You just don't!" Falling to her knees.
"It was never about you," He crouched down beside her. "Wally was gone, I failed him as a friend, as a teammate. I failed the whole team. I couldn't live with that." His head hung low between his shoulders with shame. "And I failed you. The only good thing I had left and I ruined that too."
Barbara sniffled, clearing her throat to speak. "I never thought you failed. None of us did. You were the only one that thought that."
"I didn't deserve to have you in my life, Barbara."
"That decision wasn't entirely up to you, Dick Grayson!" She rose to her feet again, poking him in the chest. "I decide who deserves to be in my life just as much as anybody else! I was going to stand beside you! I couldn't replace Wally, no one can! But I was going to be there for you."
Dick reached up to grab Barbara's hand but she quickly slapped it away. "No!" She hissed. "After all you've put me through these past few months, you've lost my respect. You've lost all your right to be in my life again. So as soon as you're healed you walk out the door and don't come back!"
There were several moments of silence between them. Dick remained kneeling on the floor. Barbara had her back turned to him as she wiped away her tears.
"Why did you hold my hand?" He asked softly.
"W-what?" She turned, not fully understanding what he was asking.
"I saw the blood on your glove, my blood, from my bullet wound tonight. If you care whether or not I'm in your life, then why bother to do such a stupid caring thing like that." Dick clenched his jaw. All the sobbing had loosened one of his stitches.
"You're bleeding, Grayson." She kneeled back down to inspect his stitches.
"That doesn't answer my question." He smiled up at her.
Barbara had no more tears left to cry. Her eyes were dry and her voice was surprisingly steady. "I can't help it." She sighted, reaching for a first aid kit.
He winced as she pressed a cloth soaked in alcohol against his wound.
"I've spent so many years with you. I've fought along side you for so long. You've become like family, I loved you long before I ever fell in love with you. Something like that. I can't just stop caring."
Dick smiled, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
"Believe me. I've tried to stop caring. I want nothing more than to look at you and not feel worried that you're gonna get yourself hurt and I'm not gonna be there to fix it." She wrapped a sheet of gauze tightly around his abdomen. "But I can't." She stood up again. "I hate your guts, Grayson, but I can't just stop loving you."
She lent him a hand to help him stand up.
He grabbed her cheek and pulled her lips to his. To his surprise she kissed back. But she cut off the kiss much sooner than he wanted.
"C'mon. We gotta get you to Alfred so he can fix your stitches. I can't have you bleeding out on me. I have a lot more I need to yell at you for."
"I can't wait." He said. A grin danced across his face. The unique bond that he and Barbara shared was something that could not be severed. Luckily for Dick Grayson, fate had granted him another chance at working it out. It wouldn't be as good as it was five months ago. But that didn't mean it couldn't be better.
She helped Dick down the stairs, this time it was much easier with him being conscious. They took Barbara's car this time, because it was much less likely that Dick would fall off and sustain further injuries.
End. OH THE ANGST!
Okay. I wrote this in like an hour. I wasn't feeling the lovey dovey mushy shit like I usually do. So I went with a little bit more real life stuff. I mean not that real life relationships have actual bullet wounds. But you know... metaphorical bullet wounds. (ya feel me!?) Anyways. I hope you guys like! Leave nice reviews. Or at least make your mean reviews anonymous!
