Author's Note:

Babs may not have been directly involved from the very beginning, but she'd certainly been watching all along.

This chapter marks the start of her PoV and a bit of a change up in the over all narrative style. We're jumping back all the way to the very beginning to get a run through of this catastrophe as seen through Babs's eyes.

I'm not entirely satisfied with how it's turned out, and I might rework it to be more like the other chapters, but I'm leaving it for now.

Thanks for sticking with me!


Chapter Twenty Eight: Rule #28 – Support Your Family

Barbara Gordon was no one's fool.

She felt plenty foolish much of the time, but she knew she had a good head on her shoulders and that even a genius was sometimes forced to admit they can't connect all the dots.

She was not a savant, after all – and sometimes she really did appreciate the reasonable social skills that come with possession of a limited genius.

Social skills allowed her restraint and clarity when dealing with the unique craziness of the people she's come to consider Family over the last few years.

Those skills, combined with her observational abilities and impressive intuition, mean that Barbara Gordon is one of the very first people inside the Bat Clan to realize that Timothy Jackson Drake is Important.

From the moment that Dick mentioned that Jason had made a friend, Barbara realized that Tim is important. Jason didn't make friends easy, and he certainly didn't take exception to just anyone, so the fact that Jason openly expressed any kind of interest in the kid clearly meant something fairly substantial.

It was a much more significant something than it seemed the rest of the Bats realized.

By the time the case revolving around the new drug sweeping into Gotham had gained it's own file inside the Batcomputer… Babs knew that Tim was going to be a truly permanent fixture in their lives.

That Tim had been so determined and idiotic so as to intentionally injure himself in order to draw enough blood to make a sizeable sample for testing the interaction of fresh blood with the contaminants found in drug tainted blood simply confirmed her hypothesis.

Timothy was a Bat.

By simple merit of stupid do-gooder dumbassery and brute willpower and utter disregard of the common bounds of sanity, Timothy Jackson Drake was a goddamned Bat.

Whether he knew it or not.

Whether anyone else knew it or not.

Tim was a Bat, and already knee deep in the self-destructive determination to prevail and extract justice and protect the city that they all loved.

She sent him an email attempting dissuade him from continuing his investigation, but she knew as she did it that even if he made a valient attempt at listening to her instructions, it was more of a delay tactic than any kind of genuine deterrent. She never entertained a genuine hope that he would even attempt to comply, but she nursed a rather impressed resignation to it when she got the ping that said Tim figured out how to open her missive.

The boy was definitely Bat material, in more ways than one.

Barbara resolved right then to watch him – to keep a subtle, but very close eye on him as the days and weeks progressed and the drug case continued to develop dead ends.

Barbara was out patrolling on her lonesome when Dick and Jason found Tim at the Wayne Gala for the Arts… she had long ago bored with how quiet the night was – how they all had been since this drug started moving in – and she was frustrated by the brick wall she'd run into regarding her own case in Chinatown.

She watched Dick through the museum's security feeds as he awkwardly attempted to connect with Jason – still caught up in trying too hard to treat him like a beloved brother to really key in on how Jason just wanted to feel like a person. Dick was usually a people person, but Jason was particularly adept at throwing him off his game in a way Dick couldn't navigate.

It's been kind of fun to watch him squirm and struggle, Barbara admitted – laughing at his ridiculous flailing is like a sitcom tailored to her exact tastes and it had quickly become something of a guilty pleasure of hers. And since she was so all-consumingly bored and stuck and frustrated, she'd take her giggles however she could get them these days.

She was still wandering the streets in a semblance of her usual patrol that night, but she was only poking her nose into the most suspicious places. The rest of her attention was on the security camera feeds she's tied into her gauntlet display allowing her to catch every detail as she watched Dick and Jason at the Senior Showcase Art Museum Gala …

And then… she found a particular warehouse.

It was a warehouse clearly relevant to the current case and her detective instints were screaming at her to investigate further… but… there are some things that Barbara Gordon knew better than to force herself to do.

This wasn't just about facing her fears or staring down the darkness that lurked in Gotham's alleyways… the absolute carnage inside that warehouse was something that no reasonable human had to pretend they were comfortable with… at least not alone.

She pinged an alert requesting back-up to the Cave, though she suspected that Agent A had already contacted Batman about the possibility she could need help.

Resigning herself to waiting for Bruce to show, Barbara leaned up against the exterior wall of the warehouse and turned her full attention to Dick and Jason at the Gala.

It meant she was actively watching as Dick and Jason spotted Tim.

It meant she saw Jason's immediate reaction to noticing Tim's arrival, that she saw it all in beautiful HD – and because she had been the one who re-hashed the museum's security, it was a good enough quality picture to see the reaction in detail and far enough removed from the situation to see the whole of it clearly.

That boy was just about as far gone already as anybody she'd ever seen.

And there was no going back.

Babs knew that much well before Bruce stepped up to her dad to try out the excuse that Tim was just an 'important family friend' – the excuse was pathetic and flimsy and just plain ridiculous, even when considering all the nonsense Brucie Wayne usually spouted.

Seriously Bruce, just stop

The Gordons tolerate your bullshit, they do not buy any of it.

The only reason he was talking to the Commissioner was that Barbara needed him to leave the Gala early – to don the cape and cowl ahead of schedule and … essentially come save her. She was supposed to be a big vigilante now, but there were some things that still… some things that got to her in a way she couldn't conquer with plain old Gotham grit.

Her dad had nightmares about the things he'd seen, so she didn't feel too pathetic for having a weak stomach when it came to walking into a warehouse that was absolutely plastered in human gore… It was a crime scene that required Bruce's involvement anyway, being that it's a new death very likely related to the new drug – though it was a far more vicious death than any of the others she'd seen, what was left of the body still displayed the hallmarks of the overdose symptoms. The odd swelling of the blood vessels and the blackened ichor that stiffened them from the inside and made them visible even from a distance.

Barbara couldn't do any more on her own even if it wasn't quite so horrific.

She had secured the scene and was now standing outside to wait for Bruce.

It made her stomach turn to consider what was behind the door – made it swirl in such a vicerally appalled manner that she couldn't even start running through the standard procedures for processing a crime scene.

She'd secured the scene and chose to ignore it while waiting for Batman.

Because Batgirl knew her limits and knew that loosing her lunch over a dead body would not only contaminate the scene, but be utterly unbecoming – would be a disgrace to the Batgirl cowl. She'd rather admit openly to being squeamish, wait carefully, and follow the proper emergency procedure, than pretend not to be squeamish and ruin this potential break in the case, thereby risking the safety of her city.

Instead of thinking about the horrors behind the door at her back, Barbara forced herself to focus – watching Dick and Jason and Tim run around on their ridiculous little museum heist.

Tim was caught up in playing with a laser, Jason was condumed with trying to keep him from having a panic attack, and Dick… was running from security – like an oversized puppy playing keep away with a stick.

It made a fond smile tug at Barbara's face, even as she calculated how much work is going to be involved with trying to scrub all the evidence of their shenanigans from the museum's security systems. It wouldn't be too hard, not for her.

And it was worth it to watch Dick and Jason and Tim all working together like the team Barbara already knows they will inevitably become.

Watching them keeps her spirits up until Batman arrives.

He was disappointed in her, obviously.

He didn't say anything about it, but it was Batman, he didn't say anything. Period.

But Barbara knew the cant of his shoulders, and the particular twist to the perpetual expression of an almost-frown she could see beneath the cowl… and Batman was disappointed.

In her.

Again.

That had been the biggest adjustment in joining the Bat Clan – feeling like a failure on a frighteningly regular basis.

Prior to joining up with Batsy, she'd been the golden girl – a truly gifted genius with the potential to really go places. But now… now she had a mentor who was actually able to teach her things, things she couldn't learn from a book, and that was new.

But so was the possibility disappointing her mentor.

All her previous mentors had loved her, even though they'd only managed to teach her a few things here and there. Bruce could teach her so much more, about… well about nearly everything – save for things regarding healthy emotional relationships or the means for maintaining a reasonable work-life balance, but still – he could teach her so much, and she could do so much for the city with his help, for the world, honestly, and that… well, it was worth feeling inadequate a lot of the time.

It rarely helped much in the moment to remember that, but it has always been true.

That night, Barbara met Tim in person for the first time.

Technically, she'd encountered him before, but only in passing; at the police station, or at public forums, or at Galas with his parents – never as a significant entity in his own right.

Tonight, he was significant.

He was sitting in Bruce's chair at the Bat Computer – absolutely dwarfed by everything around him, but not intimidated by that in the slightest.

Tim worked the Bat Computer like a pro.

To the point that when he is forced to leave for the night, Babs made absolutely certain to do a few dozen checks to make sure he hasn't tacked on any back doors for the system in his own bedroom to exploit – because Barbara had the corner on that market, and for all he was impressive, Tim was still just a kid… He should not be subjected to the full range of what the Bats encounter on a night to night basis.

She already felt guilty enough with what she'd discussed with him in explicit detail.

Though… Tim seemed to have appreciated the gory particulars to a rather worrisome extent… she'd worry about that later, however. Chalk it up to appreciating the honesty for now.

In the meantime, she wanted to focus on the case – on what she could contribute to the effort, and to making significant, viable progress with solving it.

When Alfred came back from setting Tim up in a guest room for the night, he was wearing a serious expression that only came up when he was worried about the Family.

Dick and Jason went to join Batman, but they hadn't been active on coms… still, something could've happened and Barbara knew better than to ignore that potential, no matter how paranoid the consideration may seem.

"What's wrong?"

Alfred gave a little sigh – a sign of fairly deep distress, coming from him – and said seriously, "Master Timothy declined supper. He did eventually accept the hot chocolate, and yet… It worries an old man to see such a sweet boy so uncertain of how to accept help. It's nearly as trying to my nerves as when Master Jason first came to us."

"Master Timothy?" Barbara asked, that slight, nearly fond smile tugging at her again.

Outsiders weren't referred to as young masters in Alfred's vernacular. 'Mister Drake' had gotten himself into a spot of trouble several months ago that had gotten Alfred aptly worried, but now Master Timothy was drawing out his true mother hen-ing capabilities.

Alfred arched an eyebrow in her direction – questioning, quelling, and conspiratorial all at once. Barbara could never make sense of how effectively the old man managed that, but his ability to pack so much into a single expression wasn't relevant to the point he was making.

That point being Barbara was not the only one who has noticed that Tim was important.

Alfred was the real detective here, always had been… and he was duly insulted that Barbara would ever question his instincts when it comes to the Family. Not terribly insulted, but distinctly unamused.

"He'll come around, Alfred," Barbara assured the butler, wishing she could do more to genuinely help in soothing his worries. Alfred was the bedrock of the Family, crucial to the very existence of the Bat Clan and any hopes they maintained of continued survival.

"Let us hope so, my dear," Alfred said, refocusing. "Now, the others will be back shortly, but in the meantime, what can I do to help? A grilled cheese, perhaps? Or rather… I suppose tonight is more of a banana smoothie night, isn't it. Green tea and soy, I take it?"

Gratitude flooded through Barbara – who hadn't even realized that she was also supposed to be hungry by now, who hadn't yet realized that the idea of actually eating food might make her stomach so upset it could cause her to slide out of her chair.

She managed to right herself before she swayed too far, but her stomach definitely couldn't take real food right now. The sugars and vitamins and proteins of a smoothie would be enough to keep her going, and be light enough for her to keep it down.

More of Alfred's magic at work.

With a satisfied sigh as Alfred returned with her 'meal' Barbara refocused, turning back to her data as she tried to finagle out some sort of new pattern inside the numbers when working with Tim's hypothesis as the primary sort filter.

It pushed them father along on understanding the serum than any of their previous clues had managed. It connected a few key dots within the attack patterns of the other cases that had otherwise been considered more or less anomalous.

Which was enough to get Barbara through the night.

It was enough to get her through the next day.

Barbara muddles through her collegiate course work at a plodding pace, honestly avoiding the moment when she was finished enough to warrant checking back on the Bats' secure server to check on the drug case… to see if the light of day could help her make any new connections.

She put it off until the evening, waiting until after she'd has a pleasant dinner with her dad and then sent him off with her usual combo of a smile, a kiss, and a wish to be safe.

Then she got back to work.

Dick had made a few connections – arrived at definitive conclusions for the coordinated involvement of multiple unknown subjects.

It meant the night's patrol started off on a reasonably positive note, for her at least. She knew things are probably rather awkward at the Cave – what with Jason still being stuck with Dick as Bruce resisted the urge to bench him outright.

Yet another reason Barbara wass glad that she had her own little safe house in Old Gotham to keep her gear and the physical copies of her evidence and case files. It was much more efficient for her to jump a few blocks over to get ready for patrol than it would be to head all the way out to Bristol to get prepped in the Cave.

It also meant she gets to avoid the awkwardness of a strained atmosphere that existed around an over stressed Batman and the worried father hiding somewhere underneath the cowl.

So getting ready for patrol on her own was a relief, as always.

Barbara took what had become her usual loop over the last few months – heading north from Old Gotham to circle back around through the East Side and then weaving through Chinatown. She currently possessed an absolutely nonsense assortment of clues collected for her mess of a counterfeiting case – all of them centered around Chinatown – and while she didn't hold out much hope for a break in the case, she still performed her nightly due diligence.

Wrapping up her usual investigation a bit early at Batman's decree, Barbara met up with Dick and Jason on the edge of her current territory to check up and commiserate.

Dick decided to use the kid gloves with her a bit excessively when bringing up possibilities for how the criminal justice classes he was taking out in California could offer her a new perspective to investigate, but he wasn't truly condescending. And with him, she knew he truly meant well… he was just an overly sensitive, and oversensitized, idiot still reeling from his many fights with Bruce and Jason.

And after playing mediator between those two bull-headed morons all afternoon, it was hardly a surprise that Dick was stuck in the mindset for treading on eggshells. She let it go with nothing more severely chastising that a few mildly exasperated eyerolls.

And then Jason made his case breaking, street genius observation.

The one that changed everything.

Barbara never really figures out how he spotted them, how he recognized the dire importance of the two shadows slipping through Chinatown's main tourist trap street market from 250 yards out – her genius simply didn't work the way Jason's does.

Because Jason was a genius, Babs would hear nothing even hinting at the possibility that anyone might think otherwise.

She knew Dick agreed whole heartedly, and that even Bruce could admit that Jason did indeed have a special kind of skill with people – with understanding how the hidden things behind the human psyche moved to make an individual person tick.

Jason recognized the importance of those two – of the people Barbara would later come to realize were Rwen and Shankar Tolovi – the instant that he spotted them snaking through the market. Dick manages to see it once he's been told more or less exactly what he's looking for, and Barbara too, succeeds in seeing the ripples once they're pointed out explicitly.

In retrospect, the ill-fated confrontation in the alleyway was beyond inevitable.

There was no possible way the Bats could've uncovered the Tolovi's involvement with the case without stumbling upon them blindly and taking the initiative to investigate. The Tolovis covered their tracks too well, operated within a sphere of secrecy that put to shame every single alternative clandestine operation the Bats had ever dealt with previously.

So stumbling in blind for their first encounter was an inevitability.

Funnily enough, it was Batman that pointed that fact out to her.

In the aftermath of the close call.

It was well after the growling terseness of Batman's emotionally distanced chastisement for their recklessness had sent Dick and Jason running off across the rooftops. After he had gotten her nerves to settle by ordering her to give a coolly detached report of the situation. After she realized exactly how close a call it had actually been – how the demonstrated ease of the strangers' combat abilities meant that this confrontation could have gone very, very badly.

They had gotten lucky. More than lucky.

The Tolovis cared more about keeping the cops off their tails – cared more about how the heat from a triple homicide would make moving around the city undisturbed much more difficult – than they did about putting a few reckless punks in costumes in their places.

The Batman façade never broke, never even cracked, but Barbara could feel Bruce's deeper concern behind the mask. She could feel the weight of a father figure's worries.

Bruce has never accurately known how to help her – he simply believed that helping her get back on her feet and helping puch her focus onto solving the case was the best way he could support her. He wasn't entirely wrong about that and Barbara truly did appreciate the effort.

But she couldn't just brush off a near death experience the way Bruce could – the way Dick and Jason could… if those to idiots have even managed to realize how close the call had actually been, yet.

She didn't go back to the Cave that night.

She went to her safe house and took a long hot shower with smoothe jazz blaring from her speakers. Then she went back to the condo she shared with her dad, the cozy collection of safe spaces she has always thought of as home.

And when she got back to her bedroom – still decorated with the remnants of the rather idiotic, but clearly quite impactful, white and grey and purple color scheme of her very early childhood – Barbara curled up in bed and drifted loosely off to sleep.

Barbara doesn't so much as think about logging onto her system, doesn't even look at the outer casing of the tech, until late the next morning.


Author's Note:

NB, this chapter is just a short one because Babs' section got to be more than twice as long as any other chapter so I decided to split it up into at least two (probably three) parts, the next of which I should be able to get up by next week!