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The rifle was a weapon of last resort. Tucked away in a corner of the Clocktower where no one would stumble across it, the purchase of it had been as much a promise to not use it as much as it had been a contingency. All of that, and here Barbara was, using it. Her hands didn’t shake as she assembled it, loaded it, and situated it over her shoulder. Black Mask had her tower surrounded. Her agent was down there at the mercy of his mob.
If circumstances were different—but no, Barbara couldn’t dwell on that. It had been her calls that led to this; it was her fault that Rex was in danger. She steadied the rifle in her grip, aiming carefully. Dad… oh, Dad, forgive me… He’d understand, she’d hoped, that this was plan Z, that the decision is already rotting in her stomach. That she didn’t have a choice.
Black Mask was counting down.
No more time dither. Now or Never. Her finger rested on the trigger. She breathed out. She fired.
—
Protect the Tower. Don’t be seen. Those were Batman’s orders. Helena knew she couldn’t do both and under the circumstances, she would’ve liked to see Batman try. Still, she waited as long as she could. Act now, and Batman would later reveal that there had been three different ways to dispel the mob without being seen.
“Five, four, three…” Black Mask counted down.
She had a couple of batarangs, a smoke bomb, and not much else. Maybe if she started at the edges— If she used the smoke bomb first as a distraction— She hesitated for just a second too long.
“One,” Black Mask said.
Suddenly, there was a crack. A spurt of red. Black Mask crumpled to the ground, dead. For a second, everything was still, everyone staring at his body.
Helena recovered quicker than most. Was it one of the Blue Boys? Except, no, she could see they looked just as shocked as anyone else. Who else, then?
She didn’t have time to think. Black Mask’s mob was already recovering from the shock, and quickly devolving into a chaotic mess, half of them charging forward and the other half trying to retreat. The Blue Boys were diving for cover while trying to keep themselves between Mask’s men and the tower. Helena couldn’t afford to wait any longer. So she didn’t know where the bullet came from—no one else seemed to either. Bullets were rare in No Man’s Land. She couldn’t waste this chance.
She threw down a smoke bomb and slipped into the fray. Maybe she could get through this without being seen after all.
—
Jim was in yet another argument with Sarah when Montoya came running in and shut them both up.
“Commissioner,” she said, “your daughter!”
His blood ran cold.
No Man’s Land was hell, he thought as he ran after her through the streets. Alone, abandoned, everyone turning into their worst selves in order to survive. He’d spent all this time fighting and he still couldn’t keep his daughter safe. Why couldn’t Sarah see that he was doing everything he could, but it just wasn’t enough?
“There was an attack,” Montoya was saying. “Someone shot Black Mask.”
The fight was over by the time they arrived, reinforcements at their back. Black Mask’s men were scattered. His body was lying in the middle of the street. Lowell and another man were leaning against the side of the building. Both of them looked injured. The other two officers who were supposed to be on duty were nowhere to be seen. Jim would have it out on their hides later, but there was no time for that now.
“Commissioner!” Lowell shouted as he ran past. Jim ignored her.
He ran up the stairs two at a time, Montoya at his back.
“We’re coming in!” he shouted. No answer.
They broke down the door.
Barbara was sitting at the table next to the window. There was a rifle in her hands—a good one. Where did she—No. Don’t worry about that, now.
He ran over to her.
“I’m okay, Dad,” she said. “He didn’t get me.” She sounded too calm.
Jim pulled the gun from her hands. She let him take it. It was unloaded, he noted, still warm to the touch. The bullets were on the table.
“Babs… what happened?” he asked. He already knew the answer.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
The rifle went on the table. Jim held her tight. “You’re alright,” he said. “Thank God, you’re alright.”
“—might have seen the Bat,” Lowell was saying when he came back down.
“We’ve got no idea who shot Black Mask,” Bullock told him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jim said.
“Hey, I don’t want to be the next person shot full of—”
“Harv, shut up,” Montoya said.
He shut up.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up,” Jim said and didn’t wait for any questions.
—
There was a creak at the window that night. Barbara had been waiting for it ever since she’d assured her dad that she’d be fine on her own and he’d left. Batman didn’t bother with anything as unimportant as knocking or saying hello. Instead, one moment, the darkness in the corner of the room was just a little darker.
“You shot Black Mask,” he said.
“Yes,” Barbara said.
“You killed him.” His tone was perfectly flat, but it was still an accusation.
“And what was I supposed to do?” Barbara demanded. “He had a mob. He had hostages. He was going to attack me. I needed to stop him before things got out of control. I was defending myself.”
“That doesn’t excuse lethal force.”
“If I shot him anywhere else, it just would’ve wound them up more. I had limited options. You weren’t there.”
Batman stepped out of the shadows. His face was hard under the cowl. “I wasn’t, but I had operatives in the area. You should’ve trusted me.”
“I did trust you! Maybe you should’ve tried trusting me enough to tell me that sort of thing!”
There was a long silence. “You’re right,” he admitted at last. “But I can’t trust you anymore. Not after this.”
He left.
“Just run away won’t you!” Barbara shouted after him. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?” The words echoed off of the empty walls. “Bastard,” she muttered.
Her righteous anger faded too quickly, the fire leaving her veins. For all her arguments, Bruce was right: there was blood on her hands now. She could see the moment the bullet hit when she closed her eyes, Black Mask’s skull shattering, blood spurting everywhere. Barbara had seen worse, but she was still afraid that when she went to sleep she’d dream of the Joker, only she would be the one standing at the door with a gun in her hand.
She shook her head. What she’d done was nothing like the Joker. It was self defense. Black Mask had been the only person to die; everyone else had made it out alive. It had been the only way forward she could see. She refused to regret it.
—
Batman didn’t come by again. A week later, Barbara saw why: he’d replaced her.
Her dad had come by to visit. They’d gone out together, him walking alongside her down the streets the Blue Boys had secured in the aftermath of Black Mask’s death.
“Nice weather we’re having,” her dad said.
It was a little warmer than it had been. Winter had been going on for so long. “Now if only it would hold,” Barbara said. She’d needed this: the fresh air and the company, reminders that the world was larger than her tower and Batman.
There was a flash of black at the edge of her vision.
Barbara looked up and for a split second, she locked eyes with a figure crouched on a rooftop.
“Babs?”
She’d stopped. Her dad was looking back at her from a couple steps ahead.
“Just thought I saw something. I think we should head back. I’m getting a little chilly.”
“Okay.” He didn’t argue.
That had been Batgirl up there. That had been another girl wearing her suit, her name. Bruce didn’t wait long, did he? Of course he had the gall to replace her. Of course he didn’t hesitate to do this to her the moment she failed him. Stupid, arrogant bastard! Who did he think he was? Batgirl wasn’t his to give away. And the girl under the mask—did she even know what she was doing? Did she care that she was running around out there as Barbara? Did she care that she was stealing her life?
Barbara seethed all the way back to the tower.
—
Barbara wanted to call Dick. Batman had made it plenty clear that things were over between them. Dick would understand the insult. She’d listened to him gripe about Bruce often enough; it was time he returned the favor. She still found herself hesitating though, sitting in front of the phone. For all that Dick railed against Bruce, the two were more alike than he cared to admit. Barbara didn’t know if Batman had told him what she’d done. She didn’t want to know how he’d react. Not tonight.
Instead, she dialed Dinah.
“Enjoying your vacation?” she asked.
“You better not be dragging me away again. I only just got the chance to relax.”
“No, I just wanted to chat.”
“Then chat away. Gotham got you down?”
Barbara hummed. “You could say.”
“I don’t know why you stayed. I could never. I get enough disaster zones with all the places you send me—I don’t need to live in one.”
“It’s… more complicated than that.”
Dinah’s laugh came through a little distorted. “I’m sure it is. Just another part of that secret identity of yours.”
“You don’t know me,” Barbara said thoughtfully.
“No need to rub it in.”
“But you trust me.”
“You’ve had my back all this time. I know you well enough to know that.”
“But what if… what if I wasn’t the person you thought I was?”
“Are you trying to tell me I’ve been working for a supervillain this whole time?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“But you won’t tell me what you are, will you?” Dinah asks, exasperated.
Barbara made a noncommittal noise rather than answer.
“Look, I’ve worked with all sorts of people over the years. I’d know if you were pushing over a line, and you’re not. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it can’t be that bad.”
“And if I do?” Barbara couldn’t help but ask. “Push you over that line, I mean.”
“I can take off these earrings any time I want. And I might if you keep interrupting my relaxing time!”
For the first time in a while, Barbara laughed. “Fine, I’ll leave you be. Have fun on the beach.”
“Oh, I will,” Dinah said and the connection closed.
—
There was a ringing payphone on the corner. Helena eyed it warily. This was No Man’s Land. It should be broken; that it worked set her on edge. Who would even be calling a Gotham payphone anyway? It was probably a trap, plain and simple. If she knew what was best for her, she’d get out while she still could. Instead, she found herself walking towards it rather than away.
She picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Batgirl,” said the voice on the other end. It was a woman who spoke with the same cold loathing of every girl at boarding school who’d ever laughed and called her mob princess.
“Excuse me?”
“I know who you are, Huntress, and I know you don’t belong in that costume. Do you really think that changed just because he offered it to you?”
“I don’t know who you are, or what you’re talking about.”
“How long ago did Batman offer it to you? A day ago? Two? It isn’t going to change anything.”
“Batman didn’t give me anything,” Helena spat out. “I put on this costume myself while he was off who knows where. Don’t act like you know me.”
There was a pause long enough that Helena wondered if the phone had stopped working. Then, the woman on the other end said: “It won’t last. You’ll fail him and he’ll throw you out and you’ll be no better than when you started.”
“I don’t need to listen to you,” Helena said and hung up.
—
There was someone else in the tower. None of the alarms had gone off, but Barbara could still tell. Her first thought was that it was Batman. Had Huntress—sorry, no—Batgirl—gone crying to him about her?
It wasn’t Batman. It was a blond man in a mask standing in her kitchen looking confused.
She ran a quick process of elimination. “Azrael, I’m guessing?”
He nodded. “And you’re Oracle?”
“The one and only.”
There was a growl from his stomach and he suddenly looked sheepish. “I, uh, don’t suppose you have anything to eat?”
Barbara smiled. “I can dig up something.”
“It’s good to see you, don’t get me wrong,” she said later as he dug into the can of baked beans she’d opened for him, “but I’m surprised that you came by. I’d have thought Batman would’ve warned you off.”
“He did,” Jean-Paul admitted, “but he doesn’t really approve of me either. I’m always messing things up.”
“Talking with me probably won’t help.”
He shrugged. “You were always nice and helpful when we talked. More helpful than he was. I’d like to keep talking, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.”
“Not to mention, you had food,” he added.
Barbara laughed. “The real way to a man’s heart.”
Jean-Paul hugged her before he left. Barbara hadn’t realized how much she’d needed it.
—
“Go away,” Jim said.
Batman didn’t leave. Why would he start listening to Jim now?
“We need to talk,” Batman said.
Part of Jim had been expecting this. Part of him had been waiting since Batman’s symbol had started to go up on the walls. Since he found Barbara sitting in her tower with a gun in her hands.
“No,” he said. “We don’t.”
If Batman wanted a say in what he was doing, he shouldn’t have left. He should have come to him in the beginning, when Jim was still lost, when he still needed him. Jim had had to figure things out on his own and he had. He’d taken charge. He hadn’t needed Batman’s help for any of it.
“Your allies—”
Barbara, too calm after taking that shot— Jim whipped around punched Batman in the face. “I don’t give a damn what you think about my allies!” It felt better than it should’ve, even with his hand already beginning to throb.
Batman was stonily silent.
“You left,” Jim said, not looking at him. “I don’t need your help.”
For a second, he thought that Batman had left, but then: “Two Face isn’t an ally you can trust.”
When Jim looked up, he was gone. “Apparently, neither were you.”
—
The weather was getting warmer and change was coming with it. Barbara watched as both Batman and her dad made plans they didn’t tell her about. Territory changed hands. Her dad came to visit one day with bruised knuckles and wouldn’t tell her why.
“You’re staying safe out there, right, Dad?” she asked.
He laughed. “I’m trying.”
Cain’s attempted hit had shaken them both up.
It was a dark and stormy night when she got a visitor of a different kind. Barbara was checking up on the JLA’s files—Bruce hadn’t managed to get her kicked out just yet—when she heard tapping at her window.
It was Nightwing, looking beat to hell and barely standing. She caught him as he stumbled through.
“Dick! What happened to you?”
“Just ran into a little trouble… needed somewhere to crash,” he said, not quite achieving the easy bravado he was aiming for. “Batman said…” he shook his head. “I knew I could count on you.”
He was fading fast. “Come on,” Barbara said rather than address the last thing he’d said. “Let’s get you dried off.”
She managed to get him maneuvered out of his wet uniform and into the guest bed before he completely collapsed. He’d begun to run a fever by the next morning. Barbara looked after him as he tossed and turned.
“I knew you wouldn’t do it,” he said at one point. “You wouldn’t kill him… wasn’t you...”
Barbara said nothing and just replaced the wet cloth on his forehead.
His fever broke a couple days later.
“Bruce said you shot Black Mask,” he said over breakfast, looking at the tray rather than her.
“I did. He was attacking the tower. I didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
Barbara didn’t say anything.
“I should go,” Dick said when he finished eating.
Barbara took the dishes. When she came back, both Dick and his costume were gone.
—
There was a payphone ringing again, a different one than last time. Helena eyed it warily. If it was the same woman as before, she could skip the lecture. No need to have her mistakes rubbed in any more than they had already.
She turned, fully intending to let it ring itself out, except it just wouldn’t stop. Listen to me! Listen to me! it seemed to say.
“Shouldn’t you shut up at some point?”
It did not.
“Fine.” Helena picked up. “Called to gloat?” she snapped before the woman on the other end could say anything.
“I told you you’d fail him.”
“You don’t need to rub it in. If you’re only here to insult me, I don’t need to listen.”
The line was quiet for a second, then: “Did you kill?”
This woman wasn’t entitled to her failures, but Helena still found herself answering. “I didn’t break his code, for all the good it did.” Maybe that was what stung the most: she’d put so much effort into fitting herself into his mold and none of it had mattered.
“It sounds like maybe you should’ve.” It was said lightly, bait on a hook.
“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” She could admit that that was the truth. She’d been outnumbered. Lethal force or not, it had still been her choice to run away.
Another silence. Then: “A word of advice. Pettit isn’t an ally worth courting. He’s heading straight for a fall.”
“And what choice do I have?” Helena countered. “I’m out of options and No Man’s Land isn’t friendly when you’re on your own.”
The line went dead.
“Don’t know why I even bother,” Helena muttered to herself and went back to patrolling.
—
Cass was running late again. Barbara didn’t know the girl’s real name, or even if she had one, but she seemed to like Cass well enough. She’d been a reliable courier until Cain’s attempted hit on her dad. Cass had known Cain. She’d help to save Barbara’s dad’s life. For that, Barbara would be forever grateful, but ever since then, she’d been coming and going more erratically. Now, she was showing up in nicer clothes, and clearly eating more regularly. There were familiar calluses on her hands. Barbara had her suspicions.
There was a knock at the door and Cass came in. Barbara set aside the Batgirl plush she’d been fiddling with. Cass’ eyes followed the doll. Interesting.
Barbara picked it up again and held it out to her. “It’s Batgirl,” she said. “She used to be a hero here in Gotham. She helped people.”
Cass didn’t take the doll, but she very carefully pointed to the symbol on its chest.
“She has the same symbol as Batman. She used to work with him.”
There was a flash of recognition in Cass’ eyes. “Ba,” she said.
“Bat,” Barbara said, emphasizing the t at the end.
“Ba… ba… bad.”
“Close.” Barbara set aside the doll in favor of a sheet of paper. She quickly sketched out the symbol and wrote BAT underneath. She held it up. “Bat,” she said again. “Remember the T in stop? Tuh, tuh. It’s like that.”
Cass looked at the symbol like she’d looked at the food Barbara had offered her the day they’d first met. Her focus was absolute.
“Ba— Bat.”
The t was barely there, but the word was recognizable. “Good job!” Barbara said.
Cass grinned.
Yes, there was clearly something there, Barbara thought after she’d left. Cass had probably met Batman, but was there more to it than that? Bruce still wasn’t talking to her. If she asked him, she doubted he’d answer. Dick might, but he also might not, considering how their last conversation had ended. Her informants could keep an eye out, but would they know what to look for? There was one other option. It came with complications of its own, but as Barbara turned it over in her head, she decided it was the best option she had.
—
Getting a hold of the Huntress was easier than it used to be. According to Barbara’s intelligence, she’d begun to keep a somewhat regular schedule since joining the Strongmen. It was simply a matter of waiting for the right time, casting out a line, and hoping for a bite.
“You again,” Huntress said when she finally picked up. “What do you want this time?”
“I want to propose a trade,” Barbara said. “Information for information.” When Huntress didn’t hang up on her, she continued. “I’ve heard rumors that Batman’s taken on a new ally. I want confirmation.”
“And why should I help you with your creepy bat obsession?”
Barbara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was above that. “I know where there should still be a few untouched supply caches. And beyond that, I heard his new ally’s a girl. Doesn’t it bother you that he replaced you? That he took her under his wing instead of you?”
“I’m not a girl,” Huntress snapped.
“I never said you were.”
A pause, then, “I’ll do it, but for the supplies. I’m not like you.”
“You can contact me through this phone.” Barbara rattled off her number.
“Fine,” Huntress said, and hung up.
She called back a few days later. “I saw the girl,” she said. “No costume, but she’s a hell of a fighter. Looked Asian or something, but I couldn’t tell for certain.”
Cass. That was confirmation, then. “Thank you,” Barbara said. She gave the Huntress the coordinates of one of Bruce’s stashes in the Upper West Side she was fairly sure he hadn’t touched. “You can call me if it’s empty,” she said, and hung up.
—
“I want to show you something,” Barbara said the next time Cass came by. She took the box she’d set aside. “Here. Open it.”
Cass reached for the box. When Barbara nodded, she pulled it open. “Bat,” she said, staring at the contents.
“Batgirl,” Barbara said. She’d dug out her old costume and done her best to alter it for Cass, reinforcing the fabric where it had become weak with age and replacing the heels with sturdier boots. Barbara had loved the heels—they’d made her feel on top of the world—but they wouldn’t fit this Batgirl. “I used to be Batgirl. Now, I want you to have it.”
Cass looked up from the costume to her and the back down again: hungry, hesitant.
“Go on,” Barbara said. “Take it. It’s yours now.”
She did.
—
Batman came to visit again.
“You should stay away from her.”
“Who?” Barbara challenged. “Cassandra? Batgirl?”
He ignored the jab. “You’re overstepping.”
“Is she not qualified?”
Batman was silent, which was answer enough.
“Are you saying I can’t choose who inherits my mantle myself?”
“No,” he grudgingly admitted, but he was quick to brush past it. “I don’t want you influencing her.”
Barbara scoffed. “I’m not poaching your recruit, Bruce. I’ve been keeping an eye out for her since this winter. She’s the one visiting me. What do you want me to do? Stop feeding her? Drive her off?”
“She has a rare talent. With the right guidance, she could be a hero unlike any other.”
“And I’m not the right guidance,” Barbara said bluntly. “Well you can train her all you want but I’m not about to stop looking out for her.” Before he could argue with her further, she turned her back to him. “You know where the exit is,” she said and rolled out of the room.
—
The weather was beginning to cool again when Robin stopped by the tower.
“I thought I was persona non grata with you bats,” Barbara said when he came knocking at the window.
“I don’t listen to everything Batman says,” he said with a shrug. “Got anything I can eat?”
“Doesn’t Batman feed you?” Barbara asked, but she was already rolling toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, but not enough.”
Food was tight for everyone; Barbara was beginning to feel the strain herself, as more and more of the stashes she knew of grew depleted. Robin had to be a teenage boy. She could afford to share a little.
“Batman told me to keep an eye on the Strong Men,” Robin said, perched on her kitchen counter, eating out of an open can. “I was hoping you could give me a rundown on what they’ve got going on.”
“And you couldn’t have gotten that from Batman?”
“Yeah, well, I know you’ve got different sources.”
“Then, yes, I can pull something together for you.”
“Thanks.” He got back to the very important work of eating.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked, when he was about to leave, curiosity finally getting the better of her.
“I mean…” Robin looked away. “I don’t like that you killed him. I don’t think you should’ve.”
Barbara bit down her arguments. “But?” she prompted instead.
He shrugged. “I dunno.” He looked back up at her. “You’re cool, and I think Batman’s stupid not to use every ally he can get in here.”
Barbara nodded. “Stay safe out there.”
“I will.” He gave her a cheeky Robin grin and went back out the window.
—
She called the Huntress on a whim.
“What?”
“Batman’s keeping the Strong Men under surveillance.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I just thought you’d want to know.”
She hung up before Huntress could say anything else.
—
Huntress called her a couple weeks later.
“Yes?”
“There’s a new Batgirl running around. Since you care so much.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do.”
The line went dead.
—
The silence in Jim’s garden was filled with everything that lay between him and the Batman.
I trusted you! Jim had shouted at him. I thought we were in this together!
It had been a long time since things were right between them. No Man’s Land had just been the straw that broke the camel’s back. He wanted Batman to stop changing the rules of the game on him. He wanted to be able to trust him again. He wanted the man to stop adding to the pile of secrets, half-truths, and lies that towered between them. Everything was on its head in here; he’d needed something to stay the same. Madmen ruling, the constant fighting with Sarah, Barbara sitting with a gun held too comfortably in her hands—He’d found the mask and cape when she was in the hospital after the Joker and there was no mistaking what they were—
“Words don’t mean anything,” Batman was saying. “Actions—” he was reaching up, toward his mask “—speak louder than words.”
In that moment, Jim knew exactly what Batman was about to do and he knew they could never clear out everything between them. He’d never told Barbara about what he’d found. He’d chosen that. He couldn’t change that now.
He turned around. “Put it back on.”
—
Sarah’s funeral was hard. She’d made it so far, so close to the end. Barbara hadn’t realized just how much she wished she’d gotten to know her stepmother better until she was gone. One more thing the Joker had taken. One more way they all suffered in the fallout of his constant battle with Batman.
Batman had been at the funeral. For dad, not for her. He stared past her, pointedly not seeing her. If Black Mask had killed her, he probably would have attended her funeral too, Barbara thought morbidly. He’d stand at her father’s shoulders, the weight of another tragedy propelling him forward. Too bad for him that she was still alive.
Cass was hanging around in the Clocktower when she got back. Barbara had thought about leaving Gotham when it officially reopened tomorrow. She’d idly made plans where she moved to some city where Batman wasn’t and made a fresh start, but leaving would mean admitting that Bruce had won. She wasn’t about to do that. Besides, Barbara doubted that she could pull Cass away from Bruce and Gotham, and she wasn’t about to leave her alone with him either.
“I have a delivery for you,” Barbara said, and handed Cass the letter she’d written earlier. It was addressed to the Huntress. “Give this to Leslie,” she said, pointing to Crime Alley on her map.
Cass nodded and was out the door.
Barbara had given some thought to what Robin had said. He thought that Batman needed every ally he could get. Well, so did she. The Huntress had held her ground against the Joker. She’d done all that any of them could. There was nothing to ignore about that. The letter was simple: an offer of partnership and number to call. She hoped it would bear fruit.
Barbara’s time of working with Batman was over. It was time for a new Oracle.