Chapter Twelve: When It's All Over
Barbara likes to think of herself as a patient person.
Being Batgirl… she kind of had to be.
It wasn't like you got results overnight.
You had to wait, sometimes for weeks, to get your man.
Yet, Barbara can say that this is the longest she's ever waited and still be 100% honest.
She can't do anything.
She's tapping her fingers against her knees. She can't feel it of course, but she does it anyways.
She hasn't heard from Bruce. She tells herself it's because he's busy, busy saving them, which is why she doesn't reach out to him.
He doesn't need the distractions.
"They're going to be fine." A hand rests gently on her shoulder. Alfred.
Always Alfred.
The one they can always depend on.
Her bottom lip trembles. She raises her hand, hastily wiping away the tears that threaten to fall.
"I was stupid!" she says, voice tight. She's angry, she's furious. At herself.
"On the contrary," Alfred says, rather sternly, "you are not to blame."
And she knows that maybe that's true. For Bruce and for Dick.
They make their own decisions.
But Jason…
"Jason. I should have been able to stop him from leaving the cave."
Alfred's fingers on her shoulder squeeze a little tighter. "I'm sure we both know how stubborn Master Jason can be," he says.
And sneaky, Barbara thinks bitterly.
If they don't come back, she'll never forgive them.
She'll never forgive herself for that matter.
"I shouldn't have opened the door," she whispers.
"I'm sorry?"
"If I hadn't opened the door… if I'd looked first… I wasn't being careful." She clenches and unclenches her fists.
There are so many things she could have done differently, that could have changed the outcome. They wouldn't be here now if she'd just done things differently. If she'd been smart, instead of letting her guard down because she was home, a place that was supposed to be safe.
She blinks. She can't… she can't let herself think that way.
"It was no one's fault," Alfred tells her gently. Alfred-ever the grandfatherly type, bless him. "No one's fault, but that clown's. And it was certainly not your own. Don't think that it was."
"I know." Barbara swallows thickly and nods. "I know, but…" She runs her tongue over her lips and lets her voice trail off.
She takes a shaky breath. This is no worse than anything any of them have gone through before. Three weeks ago, she would have reminded herself that they've all been taken before and that they've all escaped relatively unscathed.
Always.
Until now. Barbara runs her palm along the leg of her jeans, wishing she could feel something.
Anything.
Three weeks ago, she would have been worried, sure, but she'd know… she'd know they'd get out of it alive.
But this… this has just served as a reminder that they're all still vulnerable.
And that, sometimes, the damage done is permanent.
"They're going to be okay," she says aloud, more to herself than Alfred, but the butler answers all the same.
"I certainly hope so, Miss Gordon. I certainly hope so."
"Barbara?" Bruce's gravelly voice crackles through the Comm.
Barbara's mouth drops open slightly and she glances at Alfred, a new hope alight on her features.
"It's me, Bruce," she answers, wheeling the chair forward. "What…" She takes a moment to keep her voice from cracking. "What happened?"
"Is Alfred with you?"
Barbara almost cringes at the non-answer. "Bruce…" She needs to know, but Alfred steps forward.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred is well practiced in keeping his fears hidden, but Barbara is sure that he must be as anxious as she is.
"Alfred," Bruce says. He sounds tired. Grim. Angry. Not at them, "I need you and Barbara to prepare the medical bay."
Medical bay.
So someone's hurt.
Hurt but not dead.
At least not yet, but this means there's hope and hope is alway better than nothing.
Bruce doesn't sound like he's in any pain.
One of the boys then. She doesn't want to ask who it is.
Alfred rocks back slightly, reaching the same conclusion she's sure. "I… oh dear, yes," he says, shaking his head. "We've have it ready for when you arrive, sir." He takes a step back, likely to go do as Bruce has requested.
Barbara is about to join him when his voice calls her back.
"Barbara."
She stops. She doesn't respond. He knows she's listening anyways.
"He's going to be okay."
She freezes up at the words because it's Dick he's talking about. It's… somehow she knows he wouldn't have said it-not like that-if it had been Jason.
And she's thankful.
She knows that it's likely Dick is too.
Barbara doesn't want any of them hurt, but sometimes… Sometimes she forgets how young Jason is. Or how much she cares about Dick.
Only for something like this to bring it all crashing back down on her.
Bruce is still on the line. She's sure of it. "What happened?" she asks forcefully.
The hesitation on the other side is clear.
"Bullet wound." The answer is short. Clipped. Obviously reluctant.
Barbara's breath stutters in her throat. A bullet wound. Unconsciously, her hand reaches to her stomach and she rests it there, where the bullet pierced.
A familiar phantom pain throbs and she bites her lip. Hard. Distracting herself from a pain that shouldn't still exist, but sometimes does.
"In his shoulder," Bruce adds gruffly. Then, more softly, "He'll be okay."
And then he signs out, leaving Barbara alone with her thoughts. Or… not so alone, considering Alfred is right there with her.
She closes her eyes, willing herself to breathe deep. She can't afford to have a panic attack. Not here and not now, but she can… she can still hear his voice, his laughter. See his smile. A predator's grin.
Think of something else, she tells herself, but it's there, glued to her memory. And as much as she'd like to forget these memories, she knows that time will only make them easier to bear.
They'll never truly go away, which is something she'll have to learn to live with.
"Miss Gordon?" Alfred's voice snaps her out of her head and she turns to look at him.
He's watching her, concerned, and she offers him a small smile that she hopes isn't as shaky as it feels.
"I'm fine," she reassures him.
Alfred looks like she's just insulted his intelligence.
"I'm afraid I've been around Master Bruce for far too long for the customary 'I'm fine' to work on me," he tells her.
She should have known better than to try and fool Alfred. "I was just… remembering," she says quietly. She drops her hand and tries to forget the memory of pain so blinding and intense that she thought she was going to die.
"There's no shame in remembering," Alfred answers gently. "The trick is not to let those memories control us. Or who we become."
She nods. Bites her lip. Tries hard to hide the way it trembles. Doesn't think it works, but Alfred is delicate enough not to comment on it. "I know I… I know… I just..." Her voice catches and Barbara shakes her head, setting herself to doing something useful.
Like helping Alfred set out the medical tools, prepare for when Dick would be brought in.
Merry Christmas, everyone! I apologize for the delay, but my laptop kinda, sorta died on me (the charger has been on and off pretty much).
Hopefully, the next chapter will be out by next Sunday! Thanks for reading and please review! :D
