Chapter 6

Barbara called Alfred the next morning and told him she would try the surgery. She hadn't cried last night, not one tear after Bruce left, but she still felt broken inside. With a harsh chuckle she figured at least her inside matched her outside. Alfred, bless his heart, sounded excited on the phone, but she knew it wouldn't work. She knew in that place where everyone just knows, that she would never walk again.

She would need to get the cabinets lowered; she should probably keep the sofa for company, but the recliner could go. That was sad. She had always loved that old worn down Lazy Boy. Her father had already had her shower adjusted and she managed to clean herself with minimal exertion. That didn't matter though, she was still completely exhausted afterwards.

It was funny, she thought to herself, that she was completely incapable of physical arousal right now, but she could still remember the feeling. The tingling between her legs, the anticipation when Bruce would look at her with hooded eyes-those things didn't feel like they were impossible. That she could never wrap her legs around him again, never convulse as he moved between her thighs was someone else's life, not hers. It couldn't end this way. The Joker would not be the last person to-no, she wouldn't think of that now.

Her gaze wondered back to the balcony as it had all day. It would be so easy. She could roll herself over to the ledge, and then it was just physics. Once she levered herself up gravity would take care of the rest. Nothing else to worry about. No memories to keep her up at night. No Bruce to miss. It couldn't be called quitting. No one could say she didn't fight her fight.

But there was her dad. And Alfred. And Dick and Tim. It would kill them as surely as it would kill her, and she couldn't do that. They all still thought there was hope, and she couldn't take that from them. Not yet. They would all know soon enough.

A car arrived for her in the afternoon. Apparently this surgery was supposed to happen sooner rather than later. She didn't think it would matter all that much. She didn't know the driver, but he seemed to know his way to Wayne manor. When they arrived Alfred met her at the door. Superman and Wonder Woman were already in the cave with Bruce; she lost her breath for a moment looking at the three of them standing side by side. The atmosphere was tense; knowing Bruce he had no doubt been a peach while he concocted this little plan.

"I feel underdressed," Barbara said into the silence. Diana smiled and Clark laughed as he approached her.

"I'm going to take you on up to the Watchtower if that's okay," he explained. "We have the best equipment up there."

"That's fine," Barb replied. Her eyes found Bruce and she noticed the tired lines around his mouth and the whiskers on his chin. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days. Looking up she met Superman's baby blues as he lifted her easily in his arms. It was hard not to feel a slight thrill as he held her.

"Watchtower," Superman's voice rumbled in his chest, "I'm coming in with our visitor."

Barb couldn't hear the reply, but it must have been the okay because Superman nodded and then she was disintegrating and reintegrating-in orbit.

"Whoa," Barb gasped. "That was new."

Bruce and Diana appeared on either side of them, and Barb tried her level best not to look like Dorothy in Oz as she was carried through the Watchtower.

"You know the risks of what you're about to do?" Diana asked her as they turned a corner into a prep room.

"Might die. Might not work."

"Not on my watch!" Zatanna's voice interrupted. Barb turned and saw the beautiful magician hidden on the other side of the room.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Barb told her dryly.

"The JLA does not fail," Zatanna told her confidently.

"We'll see," Barb replied calmly. She could feel Bruce's gaze on her as Superman set her down on the bed. What if this did work? What would they do then? Barb squashed the question. It didn't matter, and she shouldn't get her hopes up. The most she could hope for was to not wake up if things did not go as planned.

"We will begin the operation momentarily," Diana informed her, "our team is beaming in now and should be ready within the hour.'

"I want to sign a DNR," Barb told them. That went over like a ton of bricks.

"You can't-" Superman immediately replied.

"It's my decision," she said, cutting off the shocked protests of everyone but Bruce.

"Understood," Bruce said into the silence. She met his gaze, but didn't let her eyes linger. Enough people were probably wondering why she merited surgery on the Watchtower and she would bet her entire savings account Bruce hadn't explained why he arranged it. When her eyes wondered to Diana's, however, she knew the wise Amazon missed nothing.

"I appreciate my privacy in everything that happens here," Barb said to the room, holding Diana's gaze.

"Of course," Diana answered her. "We will all remain discrete."

"Alright," Barb sighed. "Let's do this."

Barb dreamed through the operation.

She was in her Batgirl uniform, fighting alongside Bruce, Tim, and Dick.

She and Bruce were alone in the cave.

Alfred's voice outside the locked closet and Bruce's hand muffling her giggles, then her groans.

Talking to Dick on the rooftop of Gotham Central.

The taste of Bruce in her mouth. The feel of his stubble on her thighs.

The Joker at her door.

The Joker standing above her, laughing.

Bruce pushing her away. Bruce begging her to stay.

Waking up in the hospital.

Waking up, was that Wonder Woman looking at her? She was awake. She was really awake. Why did she hurt so much.

"Are you in pain?" Diana asked in her musical voice.

"Yes," Barb hissed as she tried to adjust her position. Diana reached down and easily lifted her up, rearranging her limbs and gown.

"Better?"

"Thank you." Barb laid her head back on the pillow and concentrated on breathing. She could feel the morphine pumping into her body, muddling her head. It was her back; her back felt like someone had slowly cut it open and dipped her in a vat of rubbing alcohol. Then again, she guessed, they had.

"Can you feel anything?" Diana quietly interrupted her thoughts.

Barb concentrated on her toes. Toes were small. She could wiggle her toes.

"Are they moving?" she asked.

"Are what moving?" Diana asked her.

"My toes," Barb said. She could feel them moving back and forth, back and forth. "Are my toes moving."

Diana lifted up the sheet and watched her toes for a very long time before gently dropping it back down and tucking it around her feet. Barb couldn't feel the movement, but she was sure, so sure her toes were moving…

"I am sorry," Diana said gently. "But the operation does not appear to have been a success."

Barb stared at her for a solid thirty seconds. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"You remain as you were," Diana told her again. "You are still paralyzed."

This time, Barb couldn't even muster a scream.