Author's Note: This is another Barbara introspective. Review/comments always appreciated. Enjoy.
Pain and Answers
Pain.
Pain is when you wake up and realize that your friends...all your family...are gone. Victims of the darkness.
Pain is when you fight the good fight even though the villains will always keep coming. Always killing, always hurting, always ruining the lives of the innocent people you protect.
Pain is when you keep on fighting the good fight even though it rips out apart of you each and every day, leaving you cold and empty. Just like the corpses of the ones they kill.
A war is raging, beneath the depths of this city. A war so gruesome and bloody, that all you hear are solemn whispers of it on the streets. The cries of the battered and beaten lost amidst the chaos that seems to fuel this city. The age old Good versus Evil battle. A battle to which I foresee no end. People will keep on fighting, and people will keep on dying. The innocent will still die at the hands of murderers and maniacs.
Most people are unaware.
Ahhh...blissful ignorance. It's a luxury these days...a luxury I can't afford.
Every night I come out onto these rooftops and ask myself why I still fight despite all the suffering it's caused me. Why I still fight for those who will never know of the sacrifices that I and the ones around me make...why I still fight knowing that only in death, can I find true peace...
Some days it takes longer than others, but the answer always comes. Words that my mentor passed on in the days when he still owned Gotham's nights:
"Own the night Barbara, or it will own you."
In saying that he meant that not fighting would mean giving up, and giving in to the evil that thirsts for new victims to prey upon. I myself have never been one to give up, though I came dangerously close after losing the use of my legs. It forced into an abrupt reality check: this is not a game, this is not some fantasy that can be put aside at one's convenience. Once you're in, you're in. The world can never look the same again.
I suppose that makes me a little jaded. Not surprising, all things considered.
The answer came slower than usual tonight. An hour of staring at the city skyline left me with a momentary hatred of New Gotham's nights. A hatred of the fight... my fight. A hatred of myself for bringing three more souls into this world: Helena, Dinah...and Wade. Two of them had their innocence already tainted by some horror in their pasts...but the third-Wade-he knew nothing...until he met me. And now he's dead, as a direct result of my identity as Oracle. I've tried to convince myself that he could have walked away from it all before it ruined him, but it's not much comfort when you're sitting up here all alone. His death keeps flashing through my mind, over and over again. It probably will for a long time. Maybe forever.
Dinah and Helena already knew something about darkness themselves. Both had lived in years of torment. Dinah's one of physical pain and abandonment, Helena's one of utter loss and loneliness. When I found Helena, or rather, when she found me, I knew there was something special. A hint of the determination and fire her father had. Something that would make her a skilled crimefighter and protégé. Dinah had it too, but she came to the tower deluded with heroic fantasies. Still, I trained them both. They've become great at what they do, but at the cost of any innocence they might have had left. I shouldn't blame myself, though I'm sure deep down I always will.
The hatred eventually fades, giving way to acceptance and understanding. It's all said and done now. The fight will continue, just as sure as the sun will soon creep through the edges of this night sky. The only thing I can do is to keep pushing forward in the hopes that I'll someday be able to lay down knowing that the pain and sacrifice was all worthwhile. But in the meantime, I head back to the war zone ready for battle.
