Misfit had told Barbara that she was awesome.

This wasn’t too surprising, the younger girl pretty much worshiped her. Barbara had tried to clear Charlie of the hero worship, but so far nothing had worked. She’d been strict with her, even briefly insisting that Charlie refer to her as “Ms. Gordon.” But Charlie had been determined to stay with the Birds, stay on the team. To learn from Barbara, and to continue to admire her.

Barbara hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Charlie had joined them during one of the more difficult times of her life. Barbara hadn’t wanted her around, and she’d done everything to discourage her. But Charlie had persevered, and completely entwined herself into Barbara’s life. The girl had overcome so many obstacles at such a young age…

Charlie had been wrong. Barbara wasn’t the one who was awesome. Misfit was. And Barbara was proud to have her on the Birds of Prey.

Considering that Barbara had been a Congresswoman at one point, she paid very little attention to politics. At least not the workings of the actual government, as long as they stayed away from the hero community. The politicians themselves mattered very little to her, she only acknowledged their existence when they were interfering in her affairs or the affairs of her colleagues. Every now and then some Senator or government agency would realize her team existed, and they would make her life miserable for a while. She always managed to maintain her independence, and whichever politician it was always ended up regretting it.

It had been said that all politics were local, and Barbara had to agree with that. She cared about her city, she needed to protect Gotham. Trying to clean up and protect her city, make sure that the people she cared about were safe – those were the issues that mattered to her.

Besides, Barbara knew better than most how politics were actually won. She saw enough crime every day. She didn’t need to see that in the people who were supposedly running the country.

Barbara knew everyone’s secrets. It was actually her job. She needed to know things – identities, abilities, strengths, dislikes… she could rattle off what Superman had for breakfast if people really needed to know. She was trusted with these facts, and others she figured out for herself.

She kept those secrets, protected people’s identities, made sure that things ran smoothly. When she was called upon, she let people know the facts they needed. They were her secrets to keep, her plans to make, her tools to get the job done.

And sometimes she had to tell other people’s secrets. Sometimes the cost was too high. Sometimes there were things that people needed to know, for their own good. For the sake of the world. For her friends, and her family.

Barbara didn’t particularly enjoy having to bear that burden, but it was her job and her responsibility, and she would live with that choice.

Ever since Barbara had been shot by the Joker, she kept her life highly regimented. She had the best security you could get – it had every device she could think of to make sure that nobody unexpected could get in. That way, she could keep control of the situation. No clowns would ever come bother her again.

She had other defenses as well. Before the shooting, she may have worn the Bat symbol, but she didn’t share all of their attitudes. She didn’t have quite as many mental walls, she was more willing to let people into her life.

Now, she may be the most Batlike of them all. Even Dinah had barely managed to get through, and she had pushed Karen away as well. She was getting better about it, she had let in Zinda, Charlie, and Helena.

Barbara doubted that she would ever be able to open a door without checking who was behind it, but she thought that maybe one day she would be able to take down some of her mental barriers.

Maybe. In time.

OOC: After this and this

Barbara had been watching as Kara decided not to go through with it. Part of her was relieved – she had never intended for any blood to be on the girl’s hands. She had always hoped that Kara would make the decision not to kill Tarantula – but she had hoped that Slade would have.

She would call Kara later, talk about this.

She listened to Slade’s call, nodding in understanding. It didn’t matter that Slade had terrified the woman, and it had been a terrifying conversation to listen to, but still. Tarantula knew too much. There was more work to be done.

~*~

Barbara hated being out of the loop. She’d gone to a lot of trouble, called in a lot of favors, only to discover that someone had beaten her to it. Slade, probably. It didn’t matter who or how. Tarantula was dead.

Barbara started to shake. It was done. She had gotten what she wanted. It was over.

She just wished that she would stop feeling empty inside.

Appearing in Kara's apartment - a map with a time written on it. 9 o'clock, tomorrow night.

Attached is a note - you'll find her here.

Similar copies are delivered to the others.

Now it was time to see how this would end.

Years ago, Barbara had come to the realization that Gotham didn’t need a Batman. Gotham needed cops, good ones, who would uphold the law. None of the Bats had ended well – Bruce was obsessed, Dick wouldn’t speak to any of them and what had happened to Tim spoke for itself.

The Bat family didn’t get happy endings. Just one tragedy after another.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Bruce had recruited another kid – he’d always been good at that. This one even looked the part. Spitting image of Dick at that age. But there was something about him, something new. He was driven, like Bruce was. But he had Dick’s sense of humor, Tim’s determination. None of Barbara’s smarts, though. But he couldn’t be perfect.

She did her duty, tried to talk him out of it. But like all of them, he wouldn’t listen to reason. He was going to be a hero, be the Batman.

And the more Barbara thought about it, the more she believed that maybe he really could be. And just maybe, he would end up better than the rest of them had.


OOC: This takes place in Batman Beyond!continuity. The Tim, Dick and Bruce mentioned are canon.

Barbara had always played by Batman’s rules. She had believed in them. You had to protect all life. Nobody was supposed to die. No matter what. That included the villains.

Barbara had sometimes had trouble reconciling herself to those rules – she had worked hard when it came to the suicide squad, but she had managed to make it work.

But lately… lately she had been reconsidering. She looked at the newest photo – Andrea Martin, age sixteen. Murdered by the Joker. Just the latest victim. Barbara put the photo in the pile with the others, the reminder of all the people that the clown had killed. All the lives that had been taken before their time. All of the crimes that the Joker needed to pay for.

The list just grew longer every year. Barbara’s own photo was in that pile, and so was Jason’s. The staff at the Pretzel Kingdom. The Gotham Skywheel. Michael and Elizabeth Harris. The list just went on and on.

And she started to wonder if Batman’s rule, the one that she had believed in for so many years, really the right one? She was protecting life, true, but people were still dying. And the Joker was still living.

When had the Joker’s life become more valuable than that of the innocents that they were supposedly protecting? Cops were allowed to kill.

And maybe next time she came face to face with him, so would she. The Joker would pay. And no more innocents would die.

Protect the lives of innocents. That was a principle worth defending.

Sometimes, Barbara was amazed that nobody had ever figured out that she was Batgirl. Her hair was her most defining characteristic, and letting it flow out behind her was not the smartest idea she’d ever had. There were only so many people in Gotham with bright red hair, and she was amazed that nobody had ever managed to identify the police commissioner’s daughter as being Batgirl.

And really, letting her hair stay down was stupid for another reason – it was so easy to grab. It got caught easily, it got in her eyes, it made fighting so much more difficult. Thugs could grab at it, she risked being identified, but even when those things were pointed out to her she’d left it that way.

Because really, she looked awesome with it flying behind her as she jumped off a building.

Nobody had ever said that her tenure as Batgirl had been brilliant.

"I'm so sorry, Barbara," her father said, squeezing her hand.

Barbara just lay there on the bed, not reacting. Not quite processing the news. The tests had come back. They couldn't fix it. She wasn't going to be able to walk again. Ever. There was nothing that they could do.

The thought that she would be able to go out again, to fly again, to stop this from happening to someone else, to stop that clown... that had been one of the things to get her through this ordeal. She would be Batgirl again. She would be a hero. She would save the next person who had to face the Joker.

But now even that was being taken away from her. She would never again fly from the rooftops. She would never again be able to make a difference.

"Barb?" her dad said in concern. "Honey, I know this is a shock - I'd hoped with Bruce Wayne helping pay for the doctors that they would come up with a way to fix this, but... Barb, say something. Please."

Barbara shook her head, trying not to cry. Not in front of her dad. She could cry later, when she was on her own. She wouldn't make this any harder on him than it was.

She was useless now.

~*~

"Hello, Barbara," a familiar voice said.

"Batman," Barbara said, flicking on the light. "Why are you here?"

"I have a job for you," he answered, coming over to stand by her bed.

Barbara snorted. "What sort of job could you have for a cripple?"

Batman drew up menacingly over her bed. "I have a job for an operative that I trust," he told her.

"Go bother Nightwing," Barbara said. "He still has two legs."

"He doesn't have your brain," Batman answered. "You can figure this out far faster than he could." He left a package on the stand next to her bed. "Do this for me, Batgirl."

It only took Barbara twenty minutes to solve the puzzle.

~*~

"Careful with that!" Barbara called, watching as the deliverymen brought in her new computer system, paid for by Wayne Enterprises. "It's fragile."

She was already planning ways that she could use her new technology. Ways that even without her legs, she could still be a hero.

Barbara had always figured there had been a damn good reason for Renegade. She'd figured it had had something to do with losing so much in such a short period of time. She hadn't bothered to look any deeper.

And now she was really wishing she had. After hearing about this, she needed to do something.

Tarantula was going to pay for this.

She opened up her email, and jotted out a quick email to princess_kory, girlfromkrypton, notakidflash, boywonder3, masked_merc, silent_jericho and rose_blade.

Nightwing is a friend to all of us, and we cannot let Tarantula get away with what she has done. I expect you here promptly, so we can begin making plans.

-Oracle

She leaned back, and waited for everyone to arrive.

It is an incredibly slow day right now.

So.

Here are the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions of a very personal nature.
3. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.

Be warned, I do know everything, so I will be able to tell if you're lying to me. (Also, I may not answer everything. Don't think I'll be giving out Batman's identity.)

( From Starfire )

( From Nightwing )

( From Kara )

( From Slade )

( From the Flash )

[locked to those in the program]

My life is not unmanageable. It is actually incredibly organized. Every single thing is in its proper place. My job is information, after all. I search it out, find it out. Make sure that people know the things they need to know to do their jobs.

My own life is just as organized. People know their role in it. Charlie is my student. She refers to me by my title. She hasn’t yet earned the friendship status. Helena and Zinda are my operatives. Closer to friends. All right, the closest thing I have to friends. But we really don’t go shopping or have ice cream or anything. Not any more. Not since Dinah left.

Everything needs to be in its proper place, after all. How else can people function? You keep things where they are needed, and you make sure people only know what they need to know. Its for their own good, after all. I learned that lesson from Batman many years ago.

It wasn’t the clock tower. That was the first thing that Barbara thought when she surveyed her new apartment. The building was secure, and she also had the surrounding ones. It was going to be far more secure than the clock tower or her Metropolis apartment had been. Especially with the new tricks she had come up with recently. Even Batman would find it difficult to break in. So would Superman. She wasn’t in the mood for his holier than thou attitude at this point.

Her computer system took up most of a floor, and she had another floor set aside for training, and suites for her and at least one room for all the Birds that she trusted. It would be incredibly easy to run the Birds out of this new apartment.

And it was back in Gotham. As much as she’d needed the space, needed to be away from it, Gotham was home. She was as much a part of the city as anyone – she needed it, and in a way it needed her.

It may not be the clock tower, but it would do.

I am Oracle. I know everything, I am everywhere, and I am here to help. I am a hero in my own way. I have my own team. For now, life is going the way I want it to go.

I know that it can’t last. Nothing ever does. I have done many things in my career, been two different types of hero.

I am happy as I am now. True, there are things that I could improve – people I wish I had not lost, fights I wish my team could have won. But I know that I do the right thing, and that I am helping others.

I just wish I could believe that it would last. That years from now I will still be able to call myself a hero. That I will still have my team with me.

I am supposed to know everything, but I have no idea what the future will hold. But whatever happens, I will be there to meet it.

What is your muse’s greatest physical weakness?
What is your muse’s greatest intellectual or emotional weakness?
How do you think these two things are related, if at all?

Barbara’s greatest physical weakness? That is beyond easy – she’s paralyzed, because some idiot at DC decided to respond to Alan Moore with “sure, cripple the bitch.” To be fair, I really do think that Babs is a way more interesting character as Oracle, and technically the Killing Joke was never intended to be in continuity anyway, but it happened.

So, yes. Babs is paralyzed. She can still hold her own in a fight (even if I find that a bit ridiculous) but without a doubt it is her greatest physical weakness.

And also her greatest emotional weakness. Babs still misses being Batgirl. And who she was when she was Batgirl. She misses the freedom that came with ‘flying’ and the life she had then, which is why she is still drawn to Dick Grayson even though she knows that she is far better off without him, as they have both moved on with their lives.

But Barbara misses the person she was. She can be trapped by what happened to her when the Joker shot her – she’s been shown in canon to have video surveillance trained on him all the time, because she is trapped by fear of him.

Still, one thing I love about Babs is that she is a stronger character because of what happened to her – and even though I would term The Killing Joke a WiR moment, Babs eventually came out of it a much better character. Give me Oracle over Batgirl any day.

Barbara had done considerable research since she had run into Supergirl. A supergirl who she had remembered, although she was fairly sure that they were memories from another universe. Another life.

Still, a friend was a friend, and she was extremely glad to have this friend back.

She sighed, and ran her fingers over her wheelchair. This reintroduction could go... well, it was going to be interesting.

It was going to be great to have one of her best friends back though, even with the potential awkwardness.

Barbara pulled herself out of bed and into her chair when one of her alerts went off. She glanced over at the clock. Three am. Wonderful. She'd only gone to sleep 45 minutes before as she'd been up late researching for Batman.

"This is Oracle," she said opening the line. "How can I help you?" She was grateful for her voice masking software. At least this way her irritation didn't entirely show. Not that she should be annoyed. She knew when she started doing this that it wouldn't be a 9 to 5 job. Well, maybe a 9 pm to 5 am job. Odd hours were part of it.

"Oracle, its J'onn," Martian Manhunter's voice came through. "I'm sorry to interrupt you at this late an hour, but could you possibly pull up a list of known criminal activity in my area?" A signal appeared on her computer, showing his exact location.

"No problem, J'onn," Barbara told him. "I'll have it in just a minute." Smiling, she went to work. She wouldn't trade her job for anything, not even better hours.

Besides, she was a night owl anyway.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but that is not always true – sometimes it makes the heart grow forgetful.

Barbara had known that when she broke off her engagement with Dick that she had wanted the latter to happen. If he had gone on that cruise and returned with a newfound commitment to her, then she may well have welcomed it. She could have been happy with him. At one point they could have been happy together.

But she had written that letter for a reason. They both needed to rediscover themselves. And his absence from her life had made her reconsider how she felt about him – she would always love Dick Grayson, nothing would ever change that. He had been one of her first real loves, and she would always value him in her life.

But they had both moved on, and she was just glad that they had both reached a point in their lives where they could accept that their romance was over, and be happy with what they had left.

Sometimes Barbara thought she was living in a world that had gone completely mad.

There was plenty of evidence to support her beliefs. People kept constantly returning from the dead, yet Ted Kord, who had never done anyone any real harm was still dead. Dinah, her one constant for so many years, had left the Birds. True, Barbara had a fabulous team – Zinda and Helena were both fabulous, but neither of them would ever replace Dinah. And the Joker was still running around free.

There was no rhyme or reason to the events that she was a witness to. She kept trying to make sense out of things, but no matter how she tried to change things, the universe still made no sense.

Even if she operated on the principle that the world was fundamentally unfair it still failed to work. Other people were benefiting, others were happy.

The world simply refused to obey any rational or logical laws, and all she could do was try to piece things together, one day at a time. Maybe one day she would be able to make sense of it. Maybe one day she would figure out how it all worked.

Maybe then she could make things be fair to everyone.