The faces of those who disappeared into the Gotham night replaced the victims of a brutal end in the headlines over the next few weeks. Three men had vanished in the three weeks since Barbara had seen Richard.
She was not surprised that she had not seen him after the offensive question she asked.
It did not matter.
She had other things to preoccupy her mind like the display behind her door. There, she had several newspaper clippings and notes, all connected by strings.
Most of the evidence did not make much sense as it was messy and full of missing information. There were too many unknowns and gaps for all the papers to come together in an aha!moment.
She searched for that realization, hoping each morning it would come to her when she put on her glasses.
The display was one of the first sights Barbara would see as well as one of the last before she turned in for bed.
But no sudden burst of knowledge came to her.
This morning was no exception.
"So... dad..." Barbara began in a cheerful tone.
"Yes?" James's eyes looked up from the paper in front of his nose.
"I've been meaning to ask about the murders and the disappearances... You think they are connected?" She stared at her dad intently, thinking that if she started slow with her questions and built up to the more sensational ones she would get the answers she wanted.
"You know I am not at liberty to say that."
"Well, I know. But they have to be connected right?" Barbara was starting to get impatient.
"The police believe so, yes." James had fully laid the paper down on the table.
"So what do the victims have in common? Besides them being men-"
"Enough of this, Barbara. A young woman should not concern herself with these sorts of things," James scolded.
"Dad, stop pretending like you're not aware of the fact that I want to go into law enforcement," Barbara responded sternly. "I know you want me to find a 'nice boy to marry,' but we both know I could never be a housewife. The guy would leave me before we even finished our vows!"
"There are plenty of other opportunities for women. Secretaries, librarians, teachers. You would make a good teacher, Barbara. Even a librarian; you're already learning the skill," He pointed out.
"But not a good detective? Or police officer?" Barbara pushed back her chair.
James sighed before answering.
"No."
Barbara remained silent at this, preventing herself from shouting: "What makes Sarah Essen capable then?!"
However, she knew that would only lead to more trouble, and she did not want to fight with her dad. She absolutely hated it whenever they did.
But there also the other subject she meant to ask about, and she needed the moment to be perfect if she wanted success.
College.
But then her dad spoke.
"I have seen your little display. I know you didn't want me to." He paused, preparing himself for his next sentence.
"When I return tonight, I expect it all to be gone."
The morning's argument had set something into motion inside Barbara's mind. Something she had been contemplating all through school.
No, she had not wanted her dad to see that display of evidence behind her door. That is why she placed it there.
But she wasn't going to take it down because he disliked it. She figured he could just simply stop looking at it.
Eight hours of pondering this demand had spurred a wild thought to cross her mind.
An act of rebellion.
Looking back on her life, this moment was inevitable. The repressed resentment she held for her father was finally seeping over. The absence of a mother to guide her through this world was sorely hitting her. It just took the right spark to ignite the passion within her.
She was capable of being on the force, and this would prove it. She may be petite and weigh only 110 pounds, but if someone like her could solve these murders and disappearances then why shouldn't be allowed to join the GCPD?
Years after she made this decision to go to the East End of Gotham where the most recent victim was seen before he vanished into the night, she would still weep bitterly at her foolish idealism.
After going back to her house for a few materials, she took the monorail over to the East End.
She sat beside the window, watching the dusk approach with a content smile. Growing tired of looking outside, she dug through her backpack shifting aside the items she brought.
Gloves, a flashlight, a camera she had just been given for her birthday, a newspaper clipping, and one of her dad's pocket knives.
Just in case.
She would have much preferred a gun, but this was the closest weapon she could find. It was also the sharpest.
The monorail suddenly stopped, causing Barbara to look up with widened eyes.
This was her stop.
She quickly zipped up her backpack and exited the monorail, pushing past the tired crowd that wanted in.
Once her boots hit the platform, she stopped and looked around at the station.
It was empty.
She shrugged this off, not wanting to entertain any thoughts that might worry her and continued her way through the brightly-lit terminal towards a map.
She found one right outside of the station, and to her delight, the area where the last victim had been spotted was nearby in Robbinsville, a curved district.
As Barbara walked over to the district, she kept her head lowered and her hat pulled snugly over her tucked hair. She thought she was smart enough by disguising herself in an androgynous manner.
She didn't dare glance to the sides of her or behind her, fearing that someone might be watching. Or following from behind.
When she reached her destination, a thought occurred to her.
She must ask around for witnesses. If not, coming here wouldn't be of use.
She sighed, approaching a pair of women on the street corner. They ignored her, acting if they hadn't seen her. But she knew they had and were too focused on their cigarettes.
"Excuse me." They now turned to her when they heard her voice, seemingly surprised.
"You're a girl," One of them acknowledged, making this out to be more of a question.
"Yes..." Barbara felt her voice become monotone. "I just have a question. Do- Did you see this man? Keith Tucker?" She held up a newspaper clipping that displayed his photo.
They both looked at the picture closely before answering that they in fact had.
"Really?" Barbara's voice suddenly became pitchy at the surprisingly good luck she was having. "Uh, where?" She tried controlling it back to her usual state.
"Over in that alley. He was here last week, talking to one of us about an arrangement But we were apparently too expensive for him."
"And too good-looking," The shorter one laughed.
"Okay. So where did he go from there?" Barbara didn't really want to hear about this.
"He walked off. Went into that alley over there," The taller one pointed. "It looked like he might have seen something. I don't know. He wasn't any use to us anymore."
"And that's the last place you saw him?" Barbara glanced at the alley she was pointing to.
"Yup." The taller one was grinding her foot into the cigarette now.
"Thank you," Barbara smiled. "I'd give you something in return, but um, I don't have anything on me."
"It's no problem. Shame you aren't a boy though. You would have been pretty cute." The pair laughed at Barbara's awkward reaction to this, which was a frown and furrowed eyebrows.
Barbara left the women to their corner, grumbling about their crudeness. Yet one good thing had come from that encounter.
She had gotten a clue without really trying.
A grin came to her lips about how well this evening was going, much easier than she had thought.
But once she stood in front of the alley, her smile was completely wiped off her face.
A sudden wave of fear and dread hit her as she peered into the ominously illuminated alley. Doubt started to cloud her mind and all her bravado had left her.
No, she couldn't do this.
Why was she here? She shouldn't be here.
How stupid of her to come here.
Her feet slowly backed out and turned around to come face-to-face with a tall silhouette, leering down at her.
"E-Excuse me," She felt her knees weaken as she tried to go around the person. But this person prevented her from doing so, coming towards her so that they were moving back into the alley.
"What? No, I'm- I'm not-" She stammered, her mind racing in panic as they went deeper into the alley.
"You're not what?" The person spoke, a man's voice. "A strumpet?"
"No! I'm the Commissioner's daughter!" He fiery tone finally came to her. "So leave me the hell alone!" She rushed towards the side of the man, but was caught by the arm and pushed back against the brick wall.
"Even better," The man hissed, leaning in closer. "Wait until ol' Gordon finds his daughter-"
"I'll give you whatever you want! I have money!" She shouted, wriggling under the man's grip.
"Shut up!" He suddenly pulled out a switchblade from his long cloak and pressed it against Barbara's neck. "Scream anymore and I'll slice your damn throat out!"
Once she felt its cold metal against her neck, her mind switched from panic to escape. She had to get out of this situation immediately. She was alone, and no one was coming to save her.
She thought how if he leaned his head in any closer towards hers she would go for the jugular, ensuring fatal damage.
But that would require an if.
What she needed was a certainty, and right now the only thing that was certain was that she could kick him in the groin.
And she did. With all her strength put into the kick.
The man yelled in pain, cutting the side of Barbara's neck as an involuntary reaction. She failed to notice this wound and only focused on getting away. She pushed him to the ground and ran.
But as she ran towards the entry, the sound of a gunshot rang past her and into the nearby wall.
The man fired again, causing Barbara to hide behind a dumpster in response.
She gasped for breath as she knelt beside the dumpster, thinking over what she should do next. She was practically trapped.
"If you come out now, it'll be a lot less painful... and messy," The man snarled, taking heavy steps towards her.
An idea flashed across Barbara's mind as she heard the man's slow footsteps approach. She mustered all her strength as she placed her hands on the dumpster, seeing the wheels underneath.
She started to count down, preparing herself for when she would send the dumpster rolling into the man.
5.
He was a few feet away.
4.
She would at least go out fighting.
3.
He was right there.
2.
Goodbye... father... I'm sorry..
1.
"Are you really going through all this trouble for someone with a boyish figure like hers?" A clear voice called out.
Barbara turned and saw another silhouette at the entrance of the alley. Its green eyes ablaze with an emotion she couldn't decipher.
"What?" The man aimed his gun at the silhouette. "Who are you?!"
"Someone who won't resist." The voice was highly sensual and feminine. "Someone who actually looks like a woman." The silhouette approached the man swiftly, taking swaying steps as it did so.
It passed by her without so much as a glance, only keeping its eyes trained on the man in front of it.
A floral scent now came into the alleyway, overwhelming Barbara with its sweet and intoxicating aroma.
Barbara couldn't take her eyes off this stranger, but she knew it was time to go. She had been blessed with a distraction and she wasn't going to let it pass by.
She took one last glance at the figures, seeing they were now enveloped in an embrace and ran towards the city with her remaining strength.
Hardly anyone was around. And whoever was paid no attention to the pleading girl who was clutching her neck in agony.
Barbara was now aware of the blood streaming down her neck, which made her even more terrified.
No one was listening to her. The hospital was on the other side of Gotham. She didn't know where to go. She believed she was going to die here.
A pair of women walking in the distance caught her attention, and with one final attempt, she ran towards them.
"Please! Help me!" Barbara cried out, her bloody hand grabbing onto the blonde one's dress.
"Hey! Let go of me!" She pulled away from the young woman. "Ya' know how much this dress cost?! More than ya' worth!"
"Please," Barbara was practically begging at this point. "I've been attacked!"
The black-haired woman glanced down at the redhead, seeing the wound. "Who attacked you?"
"A man! Over- He's over there! Please, I need to get to the hospital."
However, the women didn't seem to hear this last part. The black-haired woman gestured with her head towards the alley, and both of them hurried away.
"No! Wait!" Barbara reached towards them, but they were already gone.
She continued walking, growing fainter as the minutes wore on. The blood had mostly stopped flowing and had begun to coagulate, but this offered no hope to her. She was lost and weakened in the worst part of Gotham.
After walking north for an uncertain amount of time, she found a bench to rest at. She thought she could gather her thoughts there, and calm down from the panic she had just experienced. She had to be smart about what to do next. Her life depended on it.
Then, a familiar voice called to her, interrupting her course of action.
"Barbara?"
Barbara couldn't help but gasp at the question. She turned her head to the darkness from where it came from and blurted:
"Richard!"
He stepped towards her; a concerned look on his face clearly shown under the lamppost.
When she saw the boy, she broke down in tears. She didn't mean to, but the trauma of what occurred had finally struck her. She had tried to be strong while alone. But now with someone she knew, her walls came down.
"Hey, don't cry," He quickly sat beside her. "What-What happened? Why are you out here?"
"I-I was attacked. A man- He pushed me into the alley and cut me with a blade," She shifted her neck so he could see the wound. She felt his body tense in response, believing it to be because of the sight of all the blood.
When he didn't respond, Barbara asked how severe it looked.
"Very severe..." He said slowly. "I-I can try and clean it... If you want."
"Okay," She kept her head down, unable to see that his eyes and teeth were changing. But as he leaned in, he suddenly stopped himself.
He tore a piece of his sleeve and pressed it onto her wound, earning a hiss from her.
"Keep your head lowered," He instructed when she tried to lift it. He continued rubbing the wound with the cloth and once he finished he started to suck on it.
Of course, Barbara didn't notice this as she kept her head down. However, she did ask if he knew what he was doing and if he was through.
"Yeah, sorry. I can't really do much," His words came out like they were physically hurting him.
"Then take me to the hospital or something... Please. I feel like I might faint." She finally looked at him.
"There's not any around here," His face showed one of alarm. "But there is someone who can help."
"Who?" She was starting to gasp for breath.
"Bruce Wayne."
"But he isn't a doctor." She laughed loudly, hysteria starting to set in. "He's just a businessman."
"He knows a few things other than business. And the Manor is closer than the hospital," Richard assured, but the sentence sounded like babble to Barbara, for she had sunk into unconsciousness.