All of the characters and story lines and everything else I can think of are the property of DC comics and the WB network. The only bits that're mine are the words and the voice.
Chapter 10: Awakening
Barbara had never felt so ashamed in her life.
At first, she'd been simply furious. How dare he talk to her that way! Who was he to scold her like she was some naughty four-year old! She'd pounded the punching bags with her kali sticks until her fingers had gone numb. Then, she'd rolled herself back and forth across the gym, which had just exacerbated her frustration, because she couldn't even pace right. Then, she'd gone at the bags with the kali sticks again until she'd been drooping with exhaustion. After that, she'd thrown herself out of her chair and onto the mat, sobbing until she'd had no tears left, until all she had been able to do was lie there making dry, hiccupping sounds. Finally, she'd dragged herself into her chair and tumbled into bed without even bothering to change, where she'd fallen into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
Whether due to the fact that she hadn't been awakened during the night by any nightmares or whether she'd finally gotten out the worst of the emotional agony which had been squeezing her heart, she didn't know, but, she'd awoken the next morning refreshed for the first time since she'd been hurt. She'd gotten a shower, made herself some tea, and then gone out to the balcony to enjoy the view while she sipped it.
She had been out there at least five minutes before she realized that she was enjoying the view. How long had it been since she had enjoyed anything?
She spent a long time out there replaying Dick's words over and over again in her head--this time, without all the indignation and fury. This time she heard his anguish, saw how close to despair he really was—had been for how long? She had been so focused on her self pity, she'd completely missed it. God, she was as bad as Bruce. She'd abandoned her friend. And then, she'd slapped him when he'd tried to tell her how much she'd hurt him.
She wondered if he would ever be able to forgive her.
It was somewhat a relief, though, to fight with him. He was no longer molly-coddling her. He wouldn't shout at her if he thought she was helpless and weak. Ever since the attack, he'd been so considerate of her, so focused on her feelings. It had been refreshing to hear him give voice to his own pain for a change. Somehow, it gave her a sense of her own power back. This time, it was her turn to be strong for him. Providing he would speak to her, that is.
She really wasn't worried that lasting harm had been done to their friendship. They'd been too close for too long to give up on each other. She cringed at the thought of facing him, though. She'd behaved like such an ass.
Dick was right. It was time to grieve Batgirl and let her go, to deal with her pain and move on. She'd been immobilized by her anger and her despair for too long—as though the nerves to her soul, as well as those to her legs, had been severed. The legs could never be salvaged…the soul, on the other hand…this morning, for the first time, it seemed like, just maybe, she was getting a little bit of feeling back. It hurt…it hurt like hell…but maybe the pain was a sign that the coldness which had gripped her for so many months was starting to wear off, finally.
It was time to start dealing with her feelings. Maybe she'd even work up the nerve to see a therapist or check out that support group the hospital had recommended—start getting underneath all that icy, protective fury and begin dealing with what the anger had been protecting her from feeling: the loss, the grief, the terror, the humiliation, the violation of her spirit. It would take courage. But one thing Barbara Gordon had never been short on was courage.
She felt the need to do something tangible to find closure, so she could move on…maybe she'd pop 'round to the church sometime soon and light a candle in Batgirl's memory. Batgirl was dead. To her surprise, Barbara was discovering that Barbara Gordon was not. That richness, that life…perhaps it wasn't gone after all. Perhaps that part of herself she'd thought dead was beginning to awaken, to form itself anew.
Time it was, to begin the process of moving on. The past was past. It was time to think about the future, now. It was time to reclaim her identity…time to start to redefine her calling.