DISCLAIMER: See chapter one.
Before I go any further, I should explain that in my headcanon, Barbara never told Helena about Jason. She'd have no reason to, and Helena certainly wouldn't ask Barbara anything about Bruce or his life as Batman. Therefore, Hel has no way of knowing the, ahem, side effects of the Lazarus Pit.
The chapters will be getting longer after this one.
It's been three and a half weeks since he died. Three since Helena disappeared. One since you had to tell the school that you would be temporarily on leave because of a family emergency—which is true. And now you're guessing you have about three days before you have a complete and total breakdown.
Your one saving grace is Dinah. Alfred is trying as best he can to help, but there's something about the way that your youngest protégé needs you that keeps you from putting a bullet in your head to match the one embedded in your spine. She's mastered the art of being nearby but giving you space, something that Helena was never able to do. You know she thinks that you don't notice how she doesn't let you out of her sight except when she has to go to school, and even then she checks in with you between classes.
As devastated as you were when Wade died, as much as you wanted to be the one in that casket instead of him, nothing compared to the way you felt when Helena walked out. The conversation vividly plays in your head on repeat as though she just left the room instead of being gone for nearly a month; the agony in her eyes and the way you nearly shattered into pieces when you realized that nothing you could do would convince her to stay.
"This is my fault, Barbara. And even if you don't blame me…I can't be here anymore. I can't hurt you like this again."
She had become like the father she hates, you think with a sudden surge of fury, and you very nearly put your hand through one of the Delphi screens but settle for slamming a fist on the armrest of your chair. Running away when things get too rough. Helena is many, many things, but you never thought you could call her a coward. Then again, you never thought you'd be paralyzed from the waist down, and what exactly happened to you seven years ago?
"Barbara!"
Dinah stands in the doorway of the elevator, her blue eyes wide in shock, and too late you remember that her powers have grown to the point where she can sense if someone is "projecting" strong emotions. Still, right now you're pissed as hell with every reason to be. If Dinah wants to mess with you right now, that's her bad decision. "Don't start with me," you snap, turning your chair and moving down the ramp. "You know I'm right. She ran. She ran away and had the gall to think that it was helping us somehow!" You throw your hands in the air, more frustrated than you've ever been in your life. "What the hell was she thinking?!"
"She wasn't." Dinah's voice is almost too soft to be audible as she takes a slow step toward you, as if she's afraid you'll explode if she gets too close. Or just break. Either one is entirely feasible at the moment. "She's hurting, Barbara, just as much as you are. Maybe even more."
"I know that! God damn it, I know that, but Helena won't let me in! I tried so damn hard, but she kept pushing me away and now…" You lean back in the chair, shoving one hand through your hair and tilting your head to the ceiling as you attempt to keep what's left of your composure. Looks like three days was overestimating it. "I don't know if I'll ever see her again."
The words are pure agony as they fall from your tongue, and you're trying so hard not to splinter into pieces that you don't even realize Dinah has moved until her arms are wrapping around you and her head rests against your chest. "I'm sorry," she whispers, hands fisting on the back of your jacket, and you honestly don't know if she's referring to Helena or the fact that things will never be the same again.
Maybe both, you think as you close your eyes and let the tears come.
Flying across the world with a dead body was not high on Helena's list of things she enjoyed. In fact, it wasn't even on there. More like the "List of Things I Will Never, Ever Do Again", and this earned a spot somewhere between "get drunk with Gibson" and "touch the Delphi when Barbara isn't around".
Sure, Wade had been in his coffin, and she'd checked to make sure the guy wasn't decomposing—he hadn't—but still. The thought just creeped her out. Take that and add to it the fact that she'd been forced to use some of the inheritance Bruce had left her, and Helena Kyle wasn't a very pleasant person to be around….not that it was a change from the norm, she thought wryly. But hell, these guys kept their damn mouths shut and hadn't even blinked when she told them where they were headed. And the private jet was nice, she had to admit. Had a satellite TV and everything.
Finding the Pit had been the easy part. Even getting Wade in wasn't much of a problem. But after that….things got weird. Even though Helena had known what she was doing, knew what the Pit could do, nothing could have prepared her for seeing him burst from the bubbling green liquid, gasping for breath, with his eyes haunted and wild. Only quick action on her part had kept the man from bolting into the desert, and even then she'd needed help from a few of the plane crew members. Apparently the Pit gave its bathers temporarily increased strength. Something Ghoul conveniently forgot to mention, the brunette thought with a scowl, resolving to thank him later. Once Wade calmed down a bit, they'd gotten on the plane and taken off, and even though this was what Helena had wanted, she wondered now if it was really such a brilliant idea after all. Looking over at Wade, who was staring out the window with a darkly contemplative look—which was cause enough for alarm; the guy always seemed to be in a good mood whenever he and Helena had previously met—Helena felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine. What have I done?