Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 11

Barbara dragged herself back to the hideout, rubbing at her temples. She had been with Artemis for the past three hours, trying to console her friend. The blonde might've put on a brave face around her teammates, but she was human, too, and she had her breaking point. Today was the three-year anniversary of the first time Wally said he loved her. And he was here to celebrate.

The redhead hadn't wanted to leave, but Artemis, crying until she had no tears left, insisted that she was fine, that she would get back to the Watchtower and get her mind on something else. And Barbara, hesitant and unsure, finally relented, both because she knew Artemis had to cope in her own way and because her team needed her.

When she walked into the building, she realized just how much they needed her.

"What happened?" she asked, practically sprinting to Garfield's side.

"Smoke transported Shadow Stalker with him," Jaime snarled. "And Shadow Stalker kidnapped Gar."

She knelt beside the teen, swathed in layers of bandages. Lowering her head, she whispered, "How did you get him back?"

"I managed to connect with Shadow Stalker's thoughts," Adam explained quietly. "Got enough of a visual to travel to his location."

"Only took you three hours," Jaime grumbled.

"Don't talk to him that way," Barbara snapped. "He's a teammate."

"He's no teammate of mine!" He jumped to his feet, hands clenched into fists. "And who are you to be telling us anything? You left us! You left us with this monster and no way to contact you!"

"You could contact me!" she protested in annoyance.

"Oh, really? You turned your cell phone off!"

Both Adam and Bart stared at her in disbelief. Her throat suddenly went very, very dry, and she tried to remember when she would have done that. In her desperation to soothe Artemis, she must have turned it off, but how could she possibly have forgotten doing that.

"Jaime, I'm, I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry?!" he exploded. "You abandoned us! You're supposed to lead us and you didn't! I can't believe Nightwing left you in charge!"

He might have well as slapped her.

"Don't you dare say that! I'm doing the best I can in this situation. Forgive me for not knowing exactly what to do!"

"Maybe you could have, gee, I don't know, had a better fricking plan that attack a secret lair without any backup!" He gestured to Garfield. "Because maybe then this wouldn't have happened!"

"Guys, screaming at each other isn't going to help," Adam objected, stepping in the middle. "We need to stay calm."

"Oh, yes, let the guy in the make-shift costume guide us. Brilliant!" He sneered at Barbara. "Top-notch group we have here, all-mighty leader."

"Stop it!" she barked, fighting every urge to slap him, to silence the truth. "I'm still your leader, and if you don't respect that, then you can-"

"What? Quit?" The laugh sounded sardonic. "Because we've barely gotten by with five, and now we've dropped down to four!" He took a breath, and suddenly the anger was replaced by sorrow and fear. "Look at him! He's barely even breathing; he's hurt so badly. What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure this out," she promised softly, reaching out to rest her hands on his shoulders.

He jerked from her touch and shook his head. Tears broke free. "Don't give me that! Heroes die! Look at Tula, at Jason, damn it, look at Wally. We're not immortal, so stop pretending that we are!"

"I'm not pretending, but I'm not counting Gar out of the fight yet. We just have to re-group, that's all. Keep our cool. Adam, I want you to try to heal his wounds."

"I've tried that." The seventeen-year-old, having watched the exchange with wide-eyed disbelief, seemed uncertain of whether or not he should even speak. "But they're too bad, too deep."

"Try again," she insisted. "We have no other option. Bart-" She turned her attention to the couch, where the speedster had been sitting, but he was no longer there. "Where did Bart go? Did anyone see him leave?" She covered her face with her hand and tried to calm herself.

"Seriously, Barbara, you have to get traught." A fifteen-year-old Dick flashed her a smile. "These breathing exercises are totally worth it."

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

He cackled. "You will listen to me one of these days, Barbara Gordon."

"First you'll have to be right one of these days, Dick Grayson."

She missed those days. When Dick was still Robin and she was new enough to make mistakes and no one had died and the weight of the world wasn't on their shoulders. And it hurt so much to be this way now, to have taken so much and to be so broken by it all, to have to keep fighting when there just wasn't any fight left.

When she returned to the present, Jaime was gone, too.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Adam, where did Jaime go?"

"He stormed out. I, I tried to stop him, I really did-"

"It's fine, Adam. Can you just, go upstairs for a little? I need some time to think."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

After he was gone, Barbara sat down on the couch and stared at Garfield. His chest barely rose and fell. He needed medical attention.

And Barbara, who had stuck to the rules, had never done anything to put her hero career in jeopardy, broke the most important of all.

She took him to the Batcave.