I sat in an uncomfortable, plastic hospital chair bouncing my leg uncontrollably and fidgeting to no end. Only an hour and a half has passed since my father was shot and taken to the hospital and I haven't heard anything from anyone. No one has told me who shot my father, no one has told me why that person shot him did so and no one has told me how his surgery is going. So there I was, sitting on a blue plastic chair looking like a lost puppy in the mist of busy people.

"Here," Dick said while shoving an apple at me that he picked up while he was at the food court. I took the apple and bit into it without a word. Dick sat down on the empty chair to my left and bit into an apple of his own. My eyes were still puffy from all the crying and it probably looked as if the red puffiness was trying to swallow my hazy blue eyes. I stared down at my navy blue slip on All Star Converses and let my mess copper hair fall around my face. I stayed like that until I finished my apple and finally stood up to through the core away.

For what seemed as if forever the doctor emerged from the double doors leading to a hallway with multiple rooms on each side. I stood up and walked over to him while straightening out the black hoodie that Dick lent me. I felt the presence of Dick and police officers that were friends of my father follow me.

"The surgery went well," the doctor started and everyone, including myself, let out a sigh of relief. "But after the surgery he slipped into a coma from his body being unable to heal while actively awake." The tension was tangible in the atmosphere at the word 'but' and didn't dare to dissipate.

"Can I see him?" I asked the man before me in scrubs.

"Yes, right this way," he gestured to follow him and so I did with the same officers and Dick behind me. The hallway we were walking down smelled of antiseptics and with blinding white walls and multiple dull, mint green doors on each side of the hallway. The doctor stopped in front of a single door on the left side of the hallway. He opened the door and motioned us inside.

My father lay on the white hospital bed in the center of the room with many tubes and needles stuck in his arms. A small tube was wrapped around his cheeks that stuck into his nose supplying him with oxygen. On the left side of his bed was a heart rate monitor that consistently beeped with the line on the screen moving up and down in synchronization. On the right side of the bed was the IV bag that had the supplying a tube and needle expertly put in his vain.

My heart stopped at the sight of my father so broken and immobile. Rushing over to him I grabbed his limp left hand and seated myself in the blue plastic chair beside the bed. Immediately the tears started to spill on to my face and the blanket covering him.

"Why did this happen? Why you, Daddy? Why?" My questions were rhetorical at that moment, but would need to be answered eventually. I felt a familiar hand squeeze my left shoulder and then start to rub comforting circles on my back. They then sat down next to me and as I suspected it was Dick. He was quiet knowing exactly how I feel because he has seen the life being sucked out of his loved ones. It was when his entire family fell from the trapeze killing all but his uncle. The fall left his uncle paralyzed and with such severity in brain damage that he couldn't take care of Dick. That's why Bruce Wayne took him in.

I don't know how long we were there with me sobbing and him watching and taking it all in, but soon enough visiting hours were over and I was back in the waiting area wiping away an occasional tear. Bruce, his butler, Alfred, and Detective Renee Montoya were discussing my living arrangement since I am only sixteen, my dad's a single father and I don't have many living relatives nearby. From their conversation I could hear that the Joker was the shooter and it made my blood boil in rage. In the end it was decided that I was to stay with Bruce, Alfred, Dick and the newest addition to the family, Jason.

The ride to Wayne Manor was quiet and the atmosphere was thick, suffocating and depressing. It was filled with my least favorite feelings: sorrow and pity. When the car stopped in front of the iron gates I almost ran out of the car wanting to get away from it all and go back to the carefree world that I was in that morning, but I couldn't do that. I can't turn back the clock or stop something from happening because life isn't like those sci-fi or fantasy stories that I always dream about and have my nose in.

When we finally reached the house I flung my car door open before Alfred could open his own and slammed the expensive black metal back in form with the car's body. I didn't bother with Alfred or Dick's calls and kept walking inside the mansion. I could feel a pair of eyes on me instantly, Jason's eyes. I ignored them and kept walking to the spare room that I always use when I stay over. I stay over here so much that they started calling it "Barbara's Room". Before I closed my door I could hear Jason asking what was going on and why I fled upstairs. I didn't bother to acknowledge the answers or the soft footsteps closing in on my door. I didn't bother and I could barely hear them over my loud sobs.

I didn't respond at all to the door opening and closing softly behind the person that did so. They stood there for a good minute while I continued to sob while sitting at the end of the bed. Finally the person spoke softly and gently starting, "Barbara-"

"Go away Dick," I whispered harshly between sobs recognizing the person's voice. He didn't and instead took a seat next to me and pulled me into a hug. I pounded against his chest hard and yelled for him to let me go, but he didn't budge. He waited for me to calm down before saying, "It's not your fault, Babs. You couldn't have seen it coming."

"I should have," I sobbed into his Navy t-shirt covered chest. "I'm the damned Batgirl; I should know the Joker's next hit."

"None of us could have known. Not Bruce, Jason, Alfred, me or you," Dick stated pulling away slightly to look at me, but I refused to lift my head from his chest. He hugged me tightly once again as I continued to bawl. He stroked my hair to comfort me and after a while I felt a drop of water from his eyes land on my head. I pulled my hands up to his back returning the hug and together we comforted each other.

Thanks for reading my story. Please review, I like feed back (consrtuctive critisim).