Disclaimer: All major characters and the majority of the minor characters contained in this tale are copyright DC Comics.
OR
Chapter One - Barbara Gordon: Murderess
Here I am, sitting at your graveside. Again. The rain beats down on me and the cold wind blows but I hardly notice them, I'm so lost in my own thoughts, remembering the past.
It all started with The Mad Hatter a long time ago. I was barely a teenager when he kidnapped me, and it was because of that kidnapping that I first met you. You helped me then - you were the only one who could. I remember the long hours we'd spend discussing it, discussing me. You were the first person in a long while to show me any real interest, and that was part of the reason I was drawn to you. We both knew it was wrong, but it happened anyway. Clandestine meeting followed clandestine meeting. Nobody knew, not even Dad. He was too busy with his police work to notice me sneaking out to see you. You were my first love, my first lover. I still remember how you'd insist on wearing your Batman costume while we made love. Happy times. You influenced me more than you'll ever know.
But it wasn't to last. You grew bored of things quickly, me included, and it didn't take long for things to turn sour, but, even after all these years, I've never completely stopped loving you, no matter what you've done.
Rest in peace. I wish I could. You're dead, and I'm responsible. It should have been The Joker but I chose you instead. I wish I'd given it more thought, but I suspect I'd still make the same choice now.
I was hoping that my killing you could have stayed our little secret, but you had to leave your clues, didn't you? Looks like I'll be spending the Winter in Arkham. Still, you've managed to take your biggest secret to the grave. There's only you and I who know it and I'm certainly not going to tell anyone.
Of course it's not the first time you've been reported dead, but I'm pretty sure it'll be the last. Your death always makes the news. The first time I heard about it, all those years ago, was from Jack Ryder. This time it was from Steve Lombard:
"Meanwhile, over in Gotham City, reports have come in that Batman has killed himself. Film at 11."
The next morning, a teenager purchased a newspaper. "Hey, kid, you look like you've been to hell and back," observed the newspaper seller, giving the boy his change. The teenager ignored the man's comment, and walked away, reading the paper. Without realizing it, he muttered his magic word beneath his breath. Normally the word would summon a hero ... but not today.
