Chapter 8

"…thinks his heart has turned hard. But his heart is breaking and he has shown a little bit of that heartbreak…"
- Brother Andrew, God's Smuggler

The master hadn't been pleased with his predecessor's work. The one who came before had been a superb assassin to be sure… an expert at blending into crowds… but was obviously lacking in understanding people. The master feared that the Batman's return would come before anyone realized it or would be foretold so often that the real thing would not be recognized when it arrived.

So he, the new shadow, was given an opportunity. So far, all of the signs still pointed towards the Batman's absence. His sons struggled to carry on his work and both daughters were on their own as they tried to heal from their loss.

Still, he agreed with his predecessor in one thing. The key to the Batman's return would be his pulse… his lifeblood. And that meant watching his true daughter. He needed to keep his distance from the true-daughter because the sons were always watching, and the loyal servant and the doctor watched through the sons.

But already his watching told him that his predecessor had been mistaken. The true-daughter was in grave pain. Any lack of discipline was compensated with fire, but the pain covered all. Whether that pain would be healed, channeled, or unleashed remained to be seen.

For two minutes, Helena actually considered going to school.

Then she came to her senses.

There wasn't any point in going. She'd be switching schools soon, anyways. And she just didn't have the energy to sit in a classroom all day long. Besides, Gibson would be there and he'd want to talk and she wasn't in the mood for dealing with him.

So she went to the pond instead. She sat down on the grass near the water and watched the ducks as they played. She tried once to remember her mom, but the memories that came didn't seem quite as real as they had been. Still, the smell of the grass and the water, the openness of the sky contrasting with the droop of the weeping willows, and the sound of the small splashes as the ducks swam helped in their sameness.

At least out here, no one was pretending that they knew what her mom would have wanted for her, or giving her stupid little phrases that were supposed to make her do things again, or saying that she was making her mom sad. When she was alone, she didn't have to pretend that she was okay.

Suddenly, the sound of a car stopping nearby woke her from her reverie. As she stood up and turned around to look, she heard the engine turn off. It wasn't a car; it was some sort of really big van parked next to the sidewalk about twenty feet from where she was sitting.

As she was trying to figure out why it looked so weird, a woman she didn't recognize stepped out of the driver's side door. Shrugging, Helena was about to sit back down when the passenger side door opened. Blinking in disbelief, she saw Barbara's father for the second time in less than a day.

Her vision went red and narrowed until her whole world was the gray-haired police commissioner.

The blonde woman said something to him and then started to open one of the sliding doors on the van.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Helena walked stiff-legged across the grass.

Barbara's dad recognized her and smiled.

"Bastard!" she cried, her face twisted and her eyes filling with tears of rage.

The smile left his face, but before he could react, Helena pulled her fist back and hit him on the side of his face for all she was worth.

He fell back a step, putting his hand on the van to steady himself.

She stepped forwards, bringing up the other fist.

"Helena!"

And suddenly Barbara was there between her father and Helena. The horrified teen pulled her punch so violently that she stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Her breath still coming in ragged sobs, she took in the wheelchair and the physical pain etched on her friend's face. Then her gaze widened to include Barbara's father, standing furious and tall with his fists clenched at his sides.

Standing quickly, she wiped at the tears on her face ashamedly, once again looking to Barbara. The surprise and betrayal on her face was too much for Helena to take.

She turned and ran, only realizing later that she hadn't even said she was sorry.

"Helena, wait!" Barbara called, shifting uncomfortably in her wheelchair as her gaze followed the running teenager. Jim worried that her back was hurting her.

"There's no way in hell you're taking that kid in," he said, trying to resist the urge to rub the side of his face.

The wheelchair spun around clumsily, but quickly, and the obstinacy in Barbara's eyes told him that he could have been more diplomatic. "Since when do you get to make that decision for me?" she demanded.

Jim shook his head. "There's no decision here. She attacked me, Barbara. I've never even seen her before and she attacked me. What if she does that to you?"

He watched in horror as his daughter actually rolled her eyes. "She won't," she said dismissively.

"She could hurt you!" he yelled, fear making him angry. "I know you think you could handle her, and maybe you could before, but you can't now!"

Barbara's grip tightened convulsively on the metal rims of her wheels and she leaned forward.

"Do you even know why she attacked me?" he demanded, trying to cut her off.

Long moments passed without a word, but Jim could tell that some of Barbara's anger had been replaced with uncertainty. "No," she finally admitted angrily. "I don't. But I'm going to find out."

"No," he said firmly.

"That is not your judgment to make," she said, each syllable crisp and clear… the calm before the storm.

Jim took his glasses off and cleaned them with the bottom of his shirt, a reflexive action that gave him more time to think. Finally he sighed and replaced his glasses. "Just give it time," he pleaded. "You can't know how hard everything is going to be right now."

"No," Barbara said firmly. "It's been too long already."

Jessie suddenly cleared her throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable as she stood stiffly with her hands in her pockets.

Barbara glared at her.

By that point, nothing could make Jessie's position more awkward, so she ignored it. "You need to go back to the hospital for now," she said firmly. "This is too long for you to be sitting up."

Barbara opened her mouth to object.

"I know you're in pain," the physical therapist headed her off. "If you keep at it like you are, you'll hurt even worse tomorrow and then you'll have to wait days before you try to find your friend."

Jim tried not to look smug, knowing it would only infuriate his daughter more.

Barbara finally nodded as her forehead creased in pain she had been ignoring.

They got her back to the hospital as quickly as they could, and it was only when Barbara was lying down again that she told her father, "You know, that was the first time you've seen Helena. But that wasn't the first time she's seen you."

Tim rubbed his eyes tiredly, suddenly sick of looking up at the big Cray. Bruce had sealed off most of the cave, but even he was no match for Alfred. The butler had refused to divulge the details of Barbara and Helena's disastrous meeting, but Tim knew enough to extrapolate from what he didn't say.

Well, that, and Barbara had told Dick and Dick told him. But no one had to know that part.

He stood up and stretched, thinking through his options. Helena had never gone back to the children's home. She wouldn't go back to the pond, either. It wouldn't feel safe to her because that's where Barbara found her. Could her mom have taught her Catwoman's tricks? Probably a good bet… at least the basics, anyways.

That meant he'd better check the rooftops.

The rooftops were a place for Robin, but it was Tim Drake who needed to talk to Helena. Compromising, he settled on wearing all black except for a light colored shirt underneath his jacket so he could walk around without looking like a cartoon robber. On his way out he stuffed a ski mask into one pocket and picked up a Robin belt modified for undercover missions.

New Gotham was big enough that he could be searching all night without finding her if he didn't cut down the search area. He didn't know Helena well enough to guess where she would go, so he made a triangle out of three places he knew for sure she knew about. One point was her mother's office (famous with New Gotham's dilettantes for selling fine art), the second was New Gotham High, and the third was the hospital. He started at the school and went outward, weaving back and forth between the imaginary lines in ever broadening arcs.

Using the jump-lines to go from rooftop to rooftop made his heart heavy. It used to be his favorite part of being a vigilante… looking for someone who needed help or bringing down a bad guy after a long trail of detective work. He used to look forward to meeting up with Batman or Batgirl or (occasionally) Nightwing as they responded to the same call for help or their cases overlapped. It made him feel like he was a part of something good and bigger than just himself.

Now it just made him lonely.

When he finally caught sight of Helena jumping across the rooftops at least twenty stories beneath his vantage point, he thought she looked lonely, too.

He took his ski mask off and stuffed it back into his pocket, watching Helena carefully to figure out the pattern to her movement. She didn't move like Bruce, and Tim wondered if she moved like her mom.

Shaking his head, he picked a wide building several rooftops ahead of Helena and threw out his line. He landed in the shadows out of habit, but he stayed in them in on purpose. When she committed to the last jump, he finally stepped out of the shadows on the other side of the roof. She'd have more than thirty feet of space when she finally landed.

It was true, he'd cornered her, but he didn't want her to feel like it.

He saw her eyes widen mid-jump.

He gave her a friendly smile and waved.

She blinked in confusion, finally touching down gracefully. "Tim? What are you doing up here?"

He shrugged, standing up. "Waiting for you," he said matter-of-factly.

"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. It looked like she was trying to look amused instead of worried.

Tim sighed, his smile vanishing into a look of concern. "Because no one else seems to get why you hit Commissioner Gordon."

Helena took a step back, stiffening. Tim knew that if she hadn't already met him in a safe context she'd have bolted… or socked him. One was just as likely as the other, really. "How do you know about that?" she asked. "And how did you get up here?"

"A mutual friend showed me," he said.

Helena scowled deeply and looked away.

That startled Tim into laughing out loud. "Not that mutual friend," he finally said, ashamedly trying to contain his laughter. "Barbara."

She frowned, cocking her head. "Really?"

Tim nodded. Normally, he was almost obsessive about secret identities, but the secret had been getting heavier and he figured Helena already knew most of it. "Dick was going to show me, but… well, he tends to jump off buildings before he throws out his line. I figured Barbara was a safer bet."

Helena laughed, but quickly sobered and looked away. "Is she…?"

"She's okay," he assured her. "She's not mad at you. She doesn't get it, though."

"Oh, and you do?" she demanded, her face twisted in disgust.

"Bruce is a jerk," he said bitterly.

The undisguised anger in his tone made Helena listen.

"You thought Commissioner Gordon left Barbara like Bruce left," he continued. "You saw her at the hospital that night… when she was crying. Her dad wasn't there."

Helena shook her head quickly. "No. Her dad was there. He just didn't notice."

Tim frowned. That didn't sound like the commissioner.

"He was asleep."

Oh. "Well, you can't really blame him for that-" he started slowly.

"I know!" she said, her voice halfway between a yell and a wail. "I was so stupid. And now-"

"Barbara wanted to go look for you," Tim interrupted, suddenly desperate not to hear what Helena was going to say. "But the physical therapist said she had to go back to the hospital and lay down."

At her confused and somewhat worried look, he added, "She can't sit up for all that long yet. Her back's still healing."

"I hit her dad," she said quietly.

"Yeah…" he said, drawing out the word. He looked away scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "You should probably apologize for that."

She laughed a little.

"Gordon's not really mad per se-"

Helena snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, okay, maybe a little," he admitted. "But he's worried about Barbara."

"Maybe he should be," she said softly.

Tim's eyes widened and he sputtered helplessly for several seconds before anything intelligible would come out. "Because of you?"

Helena looked away and shoved her hands in her pockets angrily. "Well, I don't exactly have the best track record, do I? I mean, I hit Gibson and Barbara's dad…"

"Then stop doing it," he said angrily, the words popping out of their own volition.

Helena's gaze jerked upwards in surprise.

Well, it was too late to take it back now… might as well run with it. "Look," he said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "No one should expect you to be okay. Those people who want you to be all happy and over it are stupid. But if you're ashamed of the stuff you've been doing lately, quit doing it."

"What, you think I plan this stuff out?" she demanded, making a sweeping gesture with her hands. "I didn't mean to hit either of them."

Tim shrugged, once more on familiar ground. "Is Gordon right, then? Would you hit Barbara?" he asked pointedly. "She's been there so many times for you and your mom. Would you hit her after all of that?"

Helena frowned and took a step back.

"After she searched for you and found you and wanted to take you in…" he pressed, stepping closer. "The Joker shot her and she'll never be the same again, and she still wants to help you."

"I know-" she said, shaking her head.

"Would you hit her?" he asked again, coming forward until they were only inches apart. "If you came home from school one day and you were mad, would you take it out on her before she even suspects? Would you creep up behind her wheelchair and-"

"No!" she finally yelled, shoving him away. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Good," Tim said, nodding his approval. "I know you wouldn't. Barbara knows you wouldn't. It's about time you knew that, too."

Helena opened her mouth, paused, and shut it again. "Barbara's dad doesn't know that," she finally said halfheartedly.

"Well, you hit him," Tim said, shrugging. "I don't blame him."

"I shoved you, and you know," she pointed out.

Tim grinned. "Yeah, but you didn't try to hit me that time so I figured it's an improvement."

Helena rolled her eyes.

The silence lengthened, and Tim sighed. "Look, Barbara's really worried about you, but she can't leave the hospital. Just… go talk to her, okay?"

Helena nodded and then reconsidered. "What about her dad?"

Tim laughed out loud and was suddenly grinning ear to ear again. "You leave that one to Barbara."