Backbreaking

"Okay Babs, my shift starts in half an hour, so I better get going. Anything you need?"

Barbara "Babs" Gordon swivels around in her chair and gives her father a grim smile, and it isn't just because she's come to dislike her nickname. Is there anything she needs? Well, there's one thing that she wants more than anything else, but there's no way her father can provide that for her. And she thinks he knows that, because his smile darkens as well. The sympathy's still there, but it's visible only behind the emotional barrier. The knowledge that things have changed, and will never return to normal again.

"I'm fine dad," she says. She tries to make her smile a bit more warm. "Really."

"Oh. Okay. Well, I…" He takes a step into her room, and for a moment, she thinks he's going to hug her. However, he doesn't go that far. "Well, see you in the morning I guess."

"Yeah. Like, provided I'm still up."

"Babs-"

"Joking, dad, joking," she says. She leans back in the chair and gives him a wave. "Go on. Have fun. Night shift ain't gonna police Metropolis by itself."

He nods, and closes the door, leaving his teenage daughter alone in her bedroom. Only two sources of light illuminate it – the room's light, and the glow from her computer screen. She leaves her phone off these days, and the lack of light from its touchscreen makes more difference than one might think.

The room's changed over the last month. The Batman memorabilia has come down, but nothing has taken its place. There's still a cluster of gadgets in various stages of development, but far less than there used to be. There's only one gadget that Barbara is committing her full attention to these days, but the chances of it working are somewhere between slim and nil. Of course, she's still a teenager, and still a student, and that means she needs to spend time on homework. Specifically, English homework. Specifically, Shakespeare. Specifically, Macbeth. So it's with a scowl that she returns her gaze to her computer screen, and thinks of how many ways she can explain why Lady Macbeth is an absolutely terrible human being. Like, it's obvious to her, obvious to the world, and in her time as Batgirl, she's encountered plenty of terrible people. Why does she need to write a 2000 word essay explaining what the reader should have already known by the time King Duncan was dead?

Did you have this in mind Will? She wonders. She leans back in her chair and looks up at her room's roof, at a place where a Robin poster once hung (no, she did not have a crush on the Boy Wonder, stop asking). Did you write your plays so that five-hundred years later, school students could be tormented by them? She rubs her eyes. Could you imagine the arseholes that would come to Earth around this point?

She's never been into English – STEM is far more her thing. Her dad once had the idea that she'd make a great librarian, but that changed pretty quickly when her interest in books was shown to be confined to comics and technical manuals. Besides, there isn't that much use for libraries in Gotham City, and even in Metropolis, books are becoming a relic. Kind of like herself, she reflects, before sighing, and starting to type her essay. And by type, specifically hit one letter at a time with a single finger, her mind already wandering.

"Babs."

She doesn't hear her name at first. She's too caught up in memories, not from five-hundred years ago, but from the last year. Specifically, everything prior to the events of twenty-nine days, two-hours, and six minutes, by her reckoning. The second that changed everything for her is seared into her mind.

"Babs."

And no whispering from beyond the open window is going to change that for her. Least not yet. Least not when she's writing about how Lady Macbeth is an absolute bitch, as her typing gets faster, and faster, as she writes not so much about Macbeth's wife, but about the terror of the real world. Murder. Bloodshed. Betrayal.

"Babs!"

She hears it this time, and winces. She doesn't want to go through this. She doesn't want company. Once, she did, but her friends showed her how much their friendship was really worth in the end, and she doubts that's going to change now.

"Come on Babs, I know you can hear me."

She sighs – she doesn't want to do this. But there's only so much time she can spend on Shakespeare, and if she needs a reason to procrastinate, talking to Kara Danvers isn't too bad an excuse. So, still in her chair, she pushes herself away from the desk and swivels round. Outside her window, floating in the cold night air, her red cape billowing in the frosty breeze, is one of her friends.

"Kara," she murmurs.

Former friends, technically.

"Hey," Kara says. Barbara can tell she's uneasy, as she avoids making eye contact. As she rubs her arm awkwardly. Barbara's eyes shift to the giant S on her suit – a so-called symbol of hope, now mocking her. "Can I come in?" the kryptonian asks.

Barbara sighs. "Can't stop you."

"Heh, damn right you couldn't. Why, I could…" She trails off. "Um, yeah. Sure. House rules and all that."

Kara drifts in and lands on the floor. She was always taller than Barbara. Considering that she's the second-strongest person in the world, invincible against anything outside kryptonite and magic, it's little wonder that Barbara's always felt slightly intimidated by her.

"So, like, haven't seen you at school much," Kara says.

"Really?" Barbara asks. She folds her arms. "That's funny. Because I clearly remember trying to call you guys every time you left class."

"Um, yeah…"

"You've got super-hearing, right?" Barbara asks. Her words are flowing faster, and colder, like a waterfall entering the River Styx. "I mean, when I asked if we could still hang out, or if there was any help I could do, I'd have thought you at least would have heard it."

"Well, as to that-"

"But hey," Barbara says. "What do I know? I mean, we were only friends, right?" She spins around and pulls herself back to the desk. "Silly me."

"Babs, we-"

"Don't call me that."

Kara sighs. "Okay, Barbara. Like, what happened last month…well, it was weird for us, and we needed time, and-"

"You," Barbara whispers. She spins round in her chair again. "You, needed time?"

She can tell in Kara's eyes that she's hit a nerve. "Barbara, I didn't mean-"

"I needed you," Barbara whispers. "I needed all of you. And then…then you weren't there."

Kara doesn't say anything. She just stands there, in sorrow. In shame. Looking down at Barbara Gordon, still seated in the chair.

Her wheelchair.

##

The Joker's come to Metropolis, and if they don't stop him in two minutes, there won't be a Metropolis left. It's with a mixture of relief and dread for Babs that she and Kara are the ones to have found him (the rest of the girls have spread out over the city for him) and more importantly, the dirty bomb he's set up under the Daily Planet building. That's how the Joker operates it – give the victims a bit of hope before they're burnt, drowned, or skinned alive.

It's dark down here, but not so dark that they can't make out the Joker's face in the gloom. As white as snow, his lips as red as blood, his hair as green as the fields. But even if not for that, Babs has no doubt she could see his teeth in the darkness, leering out of the gloom like the Cheshire Cat. She's gone down the rabbit hole, and she's seeing someone madder than the Queen of Hearts.

"So," he whispers, seeing the girls before him. "I have a birthday party, but gasp, not enough candles." He gestures to the bomb, shining through the gloom by its LED counter – 1:51.

"Make a wish girls, because it's the only one you're gonna get."

Kara acts first, slamming into the Joker, and slamming him against a wall. Babs reaches out a hand to say something, in some vain attempt to reign her friend in, but nothing comes out of her mouth. Kara's scowling, but the Joker's smiling. And that alone keeps her in place.

Her father told her about the Joker in Gotham City. She never imagined he'd be here, in Metropolis.

"Stop this now," Kara hisses.

"Oh my dear, this isn't how this works," the madman says. He looks up at the ceiling. "Up there are where the cogs write the pretty words that try to make sense of the world, so that fat cats and pretty pigs can drink coffee and believe everything's the way it should be." He looks back down at Kara, his smile ever wider, his voice ever softer. "But we know the truth – the only way to make sense of the world is to live without sense." He giggles. "I wonder – when all the pretty pretty lights start, will you have a birthday too? Or will you be alone, when the planet burns?" He giggles. "Why, if you survive, and I survive, we could even start our own, ahem, nuclear family!"

Kara screams and throws him against another wall. "Stop this!" she yelled.

The Joker laughs. He giggles. He's crying, but Babs can tell it isn't from the pain. It's from joy. Every bone in his body could be broken and it wouldn't make any difference.

"Stop this now!" Kara yells, and she grabs the Joker by one hand. Her eyes have turned the same colour as her lips.

"Look at you go," the Joker says. Kara squeezes even tighter, but he still whispers, "all that strength…and it means nothing."

"Stop this!"

"Sorry kiddo, candle's been lit. Only way to put it out is through blowing hard and making a wish."

He might be telling the truth, Babs reflects – the Joker's insane enough to make a "wish" the deactivation code. But it doesn't matter. Diana's on the other side of town, and even with her speed, she won't be able to get here and use her lasso of truth in one minute, twenty-six seconds.

"Tell me now," Kara says, "and I'll leave some of you for Batman to find."

"A little bit? Why not lots of bits?"

"Stop this bomb now before…" She trails off. "Batgirl?"

Least she's still using codenames, Babs reflects. Kara drops the Joker, who lies on the ground, wheezing and chuckling. She heads over and looks at Babs.

"I can do this," Babs says. She's using a laser torch to cut open the bomb's outer structure, accessing its mainframe. "I can do this."

"Um, is that, I can do this? Or, I hope I can do this?"

Babs grimaces. "Guess we'll find out." She looks at Kara. "You should go. You'll probably survive the blast, but-"

"No." Kara puts her hand on Babs's shoulder. "I'm here as long as you are."

Babs smiles and turns her gaze back to the bomb. With her torch, she manages to access its interface – red wires, blue wires green wires, black wires, heck, even a brown wire. Which is the colour her pants are turning right now.

1:26

1:25

1:24

"Batgirl?" Kara asks.

"Hey, it's fine. I mean, it's only a nuclear bomb, right?" She grits her teeth and begins playing around with the wires. "I mean, if I screw up, I won't be around long enough to worry about it."

"Batgirl, I could fly it away and-"

"No," Barbara says. "It goes off anywhere, it's gonna do damage somewhere." She grits her teeth even harder and cuts a red wire.

1:08

1:07

1:06

"Look at you go kiddo," the Joker says. "The man with bats on the brain is going to be so proud. Heck, I always thought he might like one of his own rather than a bird."

Kara throws him to the ground. "Stay down, and shut up."

The Joker laughs. "Such a party pooper. No cake for the girl who's irate, who's got a date with a bomb on a plate."

Kara comes over to Babs.

0:56

0:55

0:54

"Come on, come on," Babs whispers.

Kara puts a hand on her shoulder.

0:51

0:50

0:49

"Think I got it," Babs whispers. She starts to cut a blue wire. "Almost…got…

0:15

0:14

0:13

"…it." She looks at Kara desperately. Kara, for her part, is looking just as desperate.

"Something wrong, sweetie pie?" The Joker sits down and laughs. "Oh, you cut the wrong wire? Silly you."

"Shut up," Kara hisses

"Batman would never take you on now. Though granted, he likes birds more than bats. Though he also likes cats, and when the little birds get beaten and blown up…" He looks up at Kara and leers. "Might want to fly away little bird. When the fireworks start, you'll want a good view."

0:08

0:07

0:06

"Alright, that's it," Kara says. She goes to grab the bomb.

"Just wait!" Babs yells. Sweating, she goes to cut the black wire. "Just one…

0:04

"...more…"

0:03

"…second!"

0:02

0:02

0:02

"You did it," Kara whispers.

"I did it," Babs repeats. She gets to her feet and looks at Kara. "I actually did it!"

"Party pooper," the Joker growls.

Strange as it is, Babs doesn't care about the fact that she's within range of a psychopath right now. Instead, she hugs Kara.

"I did it! I really, actually-"

Bam.

"…did it."

She stumbles away. There's a red mark in her waist. Blood's spreading out from it – her stomach is warm, while the rest of her body is cold. She looks up at Kara, whose eyes are wide, the horror in them shining out for the world to see, even in the darkness around them.

"Kara?" Babs whispers.

She falls down – she's lost all feeling in her legs. Her friend catches her and cradles her body. For a moment, the horror remains, before turning into hatred, as she looks back at the Joker. As does Babs. Who, through the gloom, can see the Clown Prince of Crime holding a smoking pistol.

"That's for ruining my fun," he whispers. He staggers to his feet. "What can I say Batgirl? Crimefighting is hard work. One might say it's even…backbreaking!"

He laughs – higher and faster than all through the night. He laughs even as Kara grabs him and throws him against the wall, making a Joker-sized indentation. He laughs even as Supergirl rushes back to her friend.

"I can't feel them," Babs whispers as Kara drops down. "My legs…I can't feel them!"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Kara lies. "We're…we're just going to get you to a hospital, and, well, need to get you out of your gear, and…" She hugs her friend. "Hey, it's okay. We got this."

Babs sniffles, and wishes she could believe that.

One hour, thirty-six minutes later, she discovers that Kara lied to her. Because in Metropolis General Hospital, surrounded by her friends (all in civvie gear) and her father (still in police gear), a doctor tells her the truth – the bullet's shattered her lower spine.

She's never going to be able to walk again.

##

"Babs."

Barbara just sits there, thinking of the past month. Of what happened that night. And, more importantly, what didn't happen after it.

"Babs."

She looks up at Supergirl. "Don't call me that," she whispers. She turns her wheelchair around and heads back to her desk. "Not now. Not ever."

"Barbara, come on."

Barbara ignores Kara and returns to her homework. Right now, even Macbeth is better than dealing with one of her so-called friends.

"Is this because I didn't stop the bullet?" Kara asks. She floats over. "I mean, I…I'm sorry, okay? I didn't catch it, I didn't hear it, and I know it should have hit me, and-"

"Kara, it's not about the bullet," Barbara says, still not glancing at the kryptonian. "It's about what happened after."

"What…happened after?"

"What happened after," Barbara repeats, gripping her pen even tighter. "The way you guys looked at me. Distanced yourself from me. Didn't want to be seen with me, because hanging around cripples isn't cool."

"Barbara, I mean…you know you can't fight crime now, right?"

"This isn't about crime!" She throws her pen at Kara – it bounces off her chest like it would even a human. "One month. You guys don't even talk to me for one month. Oh sure, we're in the same class, but that's it."

"It's…awkward, okay?" Kara averts Barbara's eyes and begins rubbing her right arm. The same one she primarily used to punch the Joker one month ago, before the lunatic was sent back to Arkham Asylum. "Like, seeing you…"

"You saw me, I saw you," Barbara said. "Funny how I only saw the backs of you before long."

"But…I'm here now," Kara whispers.

Barbara says nothing. She goes back to typing her essay.

Her friends tried at first, she reflects. Zatanna tried her magic, but it couldn't restore her spine. Jessica could use her willpower to help her move along, but the green legs could only work as long as Jess was near, and had the will to channel through her ring. And while Kara's from Krypton, she doesn't have access to any kryptonian technology that might help her. And her own invention? The transmitter she's trying to build to simulate her shattered nerve endings? It's a dead end. She'd written to everyone, from Queen Consolidated to Palmer Tech, even to Wayne Enterprises, and she's got no response other than ones that involve the word "impossible." And, she reflects, she could bear that if her friends had stayed with her. If she could still consider herself part of the team in some capacity.

"Barbara?" Kara asks. She puts a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You okay?"

Barbara ignores her. Her mind's gone away from Macbeth again, this time to the reports she watches and reads. Villains are still a thing in Metropolis, and they're deadlier than ever. Or, she reflects, maybe they were always deadly. Maybe the darkness of the world seems less grim when you're entertaining the notion that fighting against it is a game. Maybe…She sighs, rubbing her eyes, trying to keep back the tears. Maybe if she'd played the game properly, she could still walk. Maybe…maybe…

"Listen," Kara says. "I gotta go."

Barbara swivels around in her chair, and sees her former friend drifting towards the window.

"Lex Luthor's at it again," Kara continues. "And, well, giant robots are gonna be giant robots, right?"

"Oh, sure," Barbara murmurs. "I mean…" She holds up her hands so that Kara can see her palms. "I mean, I could never do anything against giant robots, right?"

"Well…no."

You were meant to say yes, damn it.

"I mean…" Kara rubs her hair – she can tell she's not handling this correctly, and that she and the rest of the girls haven't done the right thing for a month. "I mean, well, come on Barbara, this could have ended a lot worse."

Barbara finds that hard to imagine.

"Like, it was nice to have you tag along," Kara says. "But, I mean…"She sees Barbara's icy stare, but continues to dig downwards rather than flying upwards. "Look, Barbara, Batgirl's great and all, but you don't even have powers. So I'm not calling you dead weight or anything, and it really sucks that you're paralysed, but, hey, I mean, this can be the start of something new, right? Like-"

"Get out," Barbara whispers.

Kara realizes just how far down she's dug, and tries to get out of it. "No, I mean…I wasn't saying…"

"Get out," Barbara whispers again.

"Like, you weren't useless, and it was nice to have you tagging along as a sidekick, but-"

Barbara throws an entire clutch of pens at Kara. "Get out!" she screams.

Kara drifts over. "Babs, I…look, I'm not saying you were useless or anything, but-"

"Get out! I hate you! I hate all of you!"

"Babs, I didn't mean-"

"Get! Out!"

She's screaming. She's weeping. She wants nothing better than to get out of her chair and pummel Supergirl, even in the knowledge that she has no way of even scratching her. She wants to prove that she can still do something. Wants to prove that her efforts mattered. Wants to prove that she wasn't just some girl in a suit, hanging around real heroes. She wants to do all of it…

…and she can't. She just sits there, rooted to the chair, breathing heavily. Weeping softly. Sitting as a mortal looking up at a goddess. One who, however hurt, still drifts away, out of the window, before flying out through the night at supersonic speed.

"I hate you," Barbara whispers. "I hate all of you…"

She turns back to her desk and stares at what little she's written of her essay. Seeing a newsfeed telling her that the Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum. Seeing the world for what it really is.

Seeing, like Macbeth himself, a dagger before her.