Chapter 7
Helena watched as Barbara left the room, still wincing in pain from her injury. A pang of loneliness stabbed Helena in the heart as Barbara shut her out. She decided to at least be helpful and picked up a broom and began to clean up the mess. Helena picked up the larger chunks of glass and as she did so, glanced down at the wounds on her own body. The bleeding knuckles that Dr. Saramen examined, before Helena pulled away. What is it with us? She asked herself, wishing she had the answer. She finished cleaning the glass and as she turned, Helena saw the knife carefully lying on the floor, sticky, red blood covering the shiny surface of the stainless steel blade.
A scream ripped through her head as she held the knife in her hands. Helena recoiled, dropping the blade back onto the ground as the blood now drenched her hands. She stared at them, and at the fallen knife and the screams continued to echo. You can't be dead! You can't be! She looked down at the ground and saw a body lying there. Helena reached out and wrapped her in her arms, rocking back and forth. You have to be okay, you can't leave me, she cried. Please don't leave me, she wept. Helena opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at the woman in her arms and brushed the hair from her eyes lovingly. The long hair cascaded over the woman's shoulders and as her face came into view, Helena froze in horror, snapping her from the memory that had her momentarily trapped.
It wasn't a memory, and Helena immediately panicked. It was a premonition. She flew out of the kitchen and burst into Barbara's room in time to see her struggling to remove her shirt so she could bandage her wound. "Barbara!" she shouted and stopped short as she bust through the door and was taken aback. Barbara gave her a puzzled look and Helena's eyes grew wide. She shook her head and mouth opened to speak but she was too stunned to utter a word. Barbara could see the look of shock come over Helena, followed by sheer terror.
"Helena? What is it?" Barbara asked carefully, "Did something happen to Dinah?" Helena quickly shook her head no.
"It wasn't my mom," she spoke softly, almost afraid to say the words aloud. She wasn't the victim.
"What?" Barbara was confused. "Helena!" she said a little more sharply, "What's going on?" Barbara pronounced each word slowly, deliberately. Helena stared at her blankly and wiped the tears from her eyes. Barbara wanted to let down her guard. She stared at Helena and wanted to invite her to come in and sit down, to give her a hug but despite everything, she still could not bring herself to do it. Helena slowly broke out of her daze and immediately felt foolish as Barbara eyed her intently. Her stoic manner washed over her and she shook the memory from her mind.
"I just… I just had a vision," she murmured, not wanting to admit to what she had seen. Although uninvited, Helena entered Barbara's room fully and walked over to her. She reached for Barbara and was surprised to see her pull away defiantly.
"I don't need any help," Barbara spoke dangerously, offended that Helena had made the attempt. Helena ignored her comment and reached for the neckline of Barbara's shirt. "What are you doing?" Barbara turned sharply and a surge of pain travelled down her spine. She sucked in her breath hard, fighting the nausea that followed the pain.
Helena remained stoic. "You were stabbed by that knife, weren't you?" she asked in a knowing tone. "I know you were, I saw the blood…" Helena's voice trailed off as she looked at the blood on her hands; some Barbara's, some her own.
"Helena, I'm fine. Just leave me alone," Barbara spoke through clenched teeth, wishing the pain away. Helena ignored her and ripped the shirt from the neckline to the center of her back, in one quick movement "What are you doing?" Barbara screamed, angry at Helena's actions. She flashed Barbara a look as her eyes turned from their normal blue to the unmistakable feline slits.
"You were stabbed by that knife," Helena spoke with conviction. "And I'm going to take care of your wound for you, like you always did for me." Barbara struggled and tried to dissuade Helena but to no avail. The tables were turned and now Helena was doing for her what she had always done for Helena.
The ripped shirt hung loosely over the left shoulder, revealing her blood-soaked bra. Helena reached for the strap but Barbara shook her off, annoying Helena for the interruption. Cat eyes stared back at her with danger. "Close the door," was all Barbara said. It was the only reason she told Helena to stop. Upon hearing this, she blinked her eyes and they returned their normal blue. "I don't want Dinah to worry," she followed and Helena understood. She closed the door and picked up the first aid kit, removing the items that she would need and laying them out on the bed.
"Lean forward," she told Barbara and reluctantly she complied. Helena undid the strap of Barbara's blood-red, bra. Blood soaked through the fabric and trailed down her back. Barbara winced as Helena peeled the bra away from the wound and she heard Helena gasp as she finally got a look at the injury. Helena reached for the gauze and poured the antiseptic over the pad and didn't even flinch as the liquid penetrated the open wounds on her own knuckles. Barbara gritted her teeth and prepared for the agony that was about to ensue. Helena's stoic face now changed to sympathy as she placed the gauze directly on the wound and pressed lightly, allowing the liquid to seep into the gash. Barbara half screamed, half grunted, trying to keep her voice down so that she wouldn't alarm Dinah; who was now out of the shower.
"I'm sorry," Helena frowned, knowing there was no way to patch Barbara up without hurting her worse. She moved on from the wound and in a circular motion, began to wipe off the blood that dripped down her back while her right hand kept pressure on the injury to prevent further bleeding. The immediate reaction from the antiseptic faded and the majority of the pain was behind her. But Barbara was tough; she had many cuts and bruises in her Batgirl days. Oracle could handle it.
Helena didn't say a word as she cleaned the rest of the blood but her mind was in overload. Seeing all of the blood on Barbara pained her. She remembered being sixteen and hearing the sounds of her own screams as her mother died in her arms but now the memory took a direction that scared the hell out of Helena. The face that once belonged to her mother now changed into Barbara. It was Barbara she saw in her last vision. She wanted to believe it was just misplaced fear, but something deep inside struck Helena. She had cradled Barbara in her arms before. She had done so right after she stopped Barbara from killing Harley; but the flash she had scared her. It was too real.
"Are you done?" Barbara asked.
"What? Oh… no, I was just thinking, sorry." Helena stopped daydreaming and resumed cleansing the area. Once clean, she removed the gauze covering the wound and took a good look. It was fairly deep. The knife had come straight down on Barbara with a great deal of force. She shuddered as she realized that if Barbara had been leaning back, the knife would have stabbed her right in the heart. "You're going to need a few stitches," she explained as she inspected the gash.
Barbara sighed. She was a tough woman but she hated getting stitches. It was sick enough when she had to sew everyone else up but to feel the needle piercing her own skin and pulling the two sides of the cut together, made her ill. She figured her days as Oracle would put an end to such injuries. She was sadly mistaken. Barbara rested her head in her hands and thought about her current predicament. She was still very angry at Helena and didn't really want her around but she obliged Dinah, who was desperate to see her 'sister'. Barbara contemplated running from the situation as Huntress would have done but came to the conclusion that she could still maintain her anger while being patched up. She couldn't help how she was feeling. She couldn't let go of the fact that had it not been for Helena, Wade would still be alive. Her blood began to boil but she repressed the urge to lash out at Huntress, to beat her down with her words. Instead, Barbara bit her tongue and looked up to find Helena staring at her with such sad eyes. Barbara turned away quickly, not wanting to see any emotion because she would feel forced to reciprocate.
Helena flinched at Barbara's reaction but at the same time, was happy that she was letting her help. She could still see the anger burning in Barbara, she felt the anger emitting from her own soul as well. Helena's self-hatred grew over the past few weeks, from the moment she opened up to Harley. There was nothing she could do that would ever erase what had happened and apologizing seemed so trivial. No. She deserved the punishments, the hatred from Barbara, the guilt. They were a part of her, and she deserved it.
"Are you ready?" Helena asked softly, showing the needle and thread. Barbara took a deep breath but it did little to relax her.
"I think I'd like to lie on the bed for this," she explained, leaving out the part about her feeling ready to faint at any moment. She could handle broken bones, she'd experienced a few in her lifetime, but there was just something about getting stitches that bothered her. It was the only thing that made her squeamish. Of course she put on a brave face and would not allow a moment of weakness to show, even after being stabbed.
She wheeled her chair over to the bed and removed what was left of her blood-soaked shirt. Barbara was about to drop it on the floor but the blood hung heavily in the fabric and she knew the moment it hit the carpet, it would leave its reminder. Seeing her dilemma of where to put the shirt, Helena reached out and took it from her mentor. The soaked bra followed and Helena traded her for a towel that she still had in her hand from when she dried off Barbara's clean back. Barbara held it over her chest and mumbled, "Thanks." Helena let out a meek smile and threw the clothing in the garbage can on the side of the bed.
Barbara struggled to move from her chair to her bed but buckled the moment she put pressure on her left arm, causing her to almost fall out of her chair. Helena reached out and caught her in time; and stabilized Barbara in her chair. She could sense the helplessness that Barbara felt and remembered those times when she had felt that way. She hated it. Allowing Barbara to keep her independence, instead of picking Barbara up and moving her to the bed, she wanted to let her friend do it for herself. Helena slipped her arm around Barbara's waist and with her right arm; Barbara pulled herself up and eased her way on the bed. Barbara slid further back and Helena, with her free hand, lifted Barbara's legs in one scoop and carefully placed them on the bed as well.
Helena picked up Barbara's towel that had fallen on the floor and spread it out on the comforter for protection. The wound was starting to bleed from the pressure Barbara had just exerted on it. She rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head on her folded arms. She glanced at Helena who was now preparing the needle and felt a rush of nausea. Helena knew it bothered her but again, she chose not to say a word. She knew all too well the importance of maintaining that tough exterior; she was not about to break down the wall that Barbara was now constructing.
"No pain killers?" Helena asked, knowing that Barbara was never one to take any sort of medication. She preferred her self-healing techniques. Helena glanced around and knew what she was missing. She placed a clean pad of gauze over the cut and said, "I'll be right back." She dashed out of the room, flipped over the railing and landed on the main floor of the clock tower and headed for the kitchen.
Helena returned moments later and placed an ice pack directly over the gauze. Helena smiled inwardly at the help she was able to give Barbara, it was a far cry from forgiveness, but she had to start somewhere. Chills raced up and down Barbara's back and when she began to shiver from the cold, Helena pulled the small blanket from the foot of the bed and carefully covered Barbara's naked back.
After about 5 minutes, she determined that the area was as frozen as it was going to get. "Are you ready?" she asked Barbara, uneasy about the pain she was about to inflict. She noticed Barbara was breathing slowly, eyes closed and Helena knew she was in a semi-meditative state. She removed the ice pack and gauze, wiped her back one more time with the antiseptic and carefully sterilized the needle. Helena pinched the open wound closed as best she could and began the daunting task of sewing up the gash. She was as precise as she could be so that scaring would be minimal. Barbara tensed her body as a few teardrops hit the towel she was laying on. The pain was bearable, but the feeling of the needle going in and pulling the wound together was nauseating. She tried her best to ignore it and focused on her anger instead.