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[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

 It feels like months since she first started trying to reach her father, but Babs knows it's only been hours.

Nevertheless, she's worried, because she knows her dad. She's been off-grid nearly five days now, and since she first moved in with him when she was thirteen, Barbara has never gone more than a night without speaking to him. 

Well - there was one glaring exception. 

Which only reinforced her sense that something wasn't right, but with all the recent chaos in Gotham, it was possible there was still some sort of reasonable explanation for why Commissioner Gordon wasn't answering his cell phone for his only daughter, nor returning the messages she'd left for him at work or home. 

Babs wanted to go to the station. It wasn't far. Neither was her father's house far removed from her Clock Tower. But there was still a lot of work to be done, and while her leg injury wasn't any further hinderance for her, and she could still get around by herself, Babs had a feeling that certain people might get snippy if she took off on her own again so soon.

There were one or two things she could try before venturing out into Gotham. Calling Dick's cell, she left a voicemail,

<i>"Hey, Dick. Not to be an alarmist, but I haven't been able to get ahold of my father and I was wondering if maybe you had an idea where he might be. Also, if you've got a job for me to help get things running more smoothly, I'm ready to go. Call me when you can."</i>

Comments

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

A text comes perhaps two minutes later. "Business meeting. Call Alfred."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

She dials Alfred at the Manor almost immediately. "Alfred? This is Barbara. You don't happen to know where my father is, do you? I've been trying to reach him."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Miss Gordon," Alfred replies with just a touch of hesitation, "Commissioner Gordon, I fear, is at Gotham Memorial Hospital. His heart, Master Richard said."

Reluctance isn't the butler's usual approach; more is there.

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

The saying about the blood running cold was suddenly fully illustrated in her. The words swam around in her head as she struggled to process the information.

Already she was moving, getting together anything she might need for the next couple of days at the hospital. Her heart was pounding and when she spoke, her voice was frighteningly calm.

She was going to kill Dick.

"Do you have any details Alfred?"

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Very little, Miss Gordon. Master Richard informed me as he was leaving town himself. If you will allow it, I should be honoured to accompany you there."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

"I would love your company, Alfred, but only if I'm not taking you away from more important things."

There was a duffle bag in her hands and she was staring at it blankly, unable to remember what she was supposed to be doing with it. Her dad... Her dad's heart. What had happened?

"Um, I'm just going to throw some stuff together and I'll be ready." She didn't need anything, really. An extra pair of jeans, a couple t-shirts, several pairs of clean socks and underwear, a book, in case she was actually able to read, and her laptop, because she rarely went anywhere without one. Toiletries were probably a good idea, too. Nothing else really mattered right now, but she wasn't going to contribute to the germs at the hospital by ignoring her own personal hygiene.

Which she realized as ridiculous, but that didn't matter either.

"When can you get here?"

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Thirty minutes at most. And Miss Gordon? I am dreadfully sorry to have imparted such difficult news.".

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

"I'll be ready," she said in rough voice. She wasn't going to cry. She was Oracle. She was formerly the original Batgirl. She was Commissioner James Gordon's daughter and Batman, the first Batman, was her mentor. She wouldn't cry now, and she certainly wouldn't show weakness in front of her father.

"Thanks, Alfred." Her voice was quiet. "Let's all hope that it's not as dire as it sounds and that he'll be tucked in bed at home, in a matter of house."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Alfred's tone softens as he replies, "Let us pray so, Miss Gordon. Thirty minutes. I promise it."

Barbara is one of the family, after all.

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

True to his promise, Alfred and the Bentley are at the Clocktower 30 minutes later; the butler is well experienced in helping Barbara get around.

His expression remains somber, and unless Barbara needs conversation on the way to the hospital, he will remain respectfully quiet.

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

Outwardly, Babs is a picture of calm. Internally, she's rather more zen than before while she's in warrior mode - ready to battle any heat diseases, surly nurses, incompetent doctors, or anything else that stood in her way.

She's quiet most of the way, but just as they're about to arrive, she says, "Thanks again for everything, Alfred. You're too good to me."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

From the front seat, there is a pause. "Miss Gordon, you are to me as Master Richard, Master Jason and Master Timothy: one of those special few that Master Bruce chose to take under his wing. While he would not say it, in his stead I may note what he and I believe: for you, nothing is good enough."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

Earlier, Babs had been taken over by the fear of losing her father. Not just because she loved him and would miss him, but because he was all she had left. Her birth parents lost to drunk driving accidents; her adoptive mother and brother lost to divorce; James Gordon had been her only family for a very long time.

Except that he wasn't her only family, and the knowledge of that was very nearly humbling sometimes. Her entire family then, was made up of people who had not been stuck with her, but who had chosen her, and for a girl who'd spent thee first thirteen years of her life with an increasingly abusive alcoholic, that meant something.

"Thank you," she murmured again. "I don't know where I'd be without you all." The hospital loomed, but the only thing she cared about now was seeing if her father was alright.

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Alfred slows, then stops, the limo at the entrance to Gotham Memorial and exits the driver's side to fetch Barbara's wheelchair and bag from the trunk. He does both efficiently and quickly, without appearing hurried, and opens the passenger door to position the wheelchair where Barbara can slide into it unaided.

He knows she prefers it that way.

"I believe, Miss Gordon, that the Commissioner has been taken to the cardiac intensive care ward," he offers quietly. "If you wish, I shall join you there once I have parked the car."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

Barbara transferred herself from the car to her chair, nodding her thanks to Alfred, both for helping and not helping.

"If I'm not keeping you," she said, her voice soft again. "The company would be nice. I have no idea what to expect."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"I understand," Alfred remarks reassuringly. "If you wish to wait here, I shall be but a moment seeing to the car. They are...familiar with the Bentley, I fear."

Indeed, a space very close by exists for the Wayne family limo. And why not? The Wayne family name is on half the hospital.

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

Babs understood. It wasn't only the family hospital, part of Thomas Wayne's legacy, but the place anyone in the Wayne family went for medical care, should they be unable to avoid it by relying on Alfred's Field Medic skills.

"Go ahead,"she smiled faintly. "I'll confirm his location with the information desk."

Maybe a half-hour later...

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Hands rest gently on Barbara's shoulders and massage lightly. "Heya."

Re: Maybe a half-hour later...

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

Her father has been sleeping, but for the first time since arriving at the hospital, Babs allows herself a moment to close her eyes and just... be. To feel her worry, and fear, and sorrow, and love, without trying to control it.

Letting her head lean back against Dick's stomach, she tried to relax her shoulders. "Hi. Busy day?"

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

"Team meeting," he replies quietly, pausing to kiss the top of her head before continuing to massage lovingly.

Yes, lovingly.

"How's he doing? How are you doing?"

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

She swallows around the lump in her throat. "He's alive. From what I can tell, Crane nearly scared him to death. I think it had something to do with me." Babs fists tightened into fists on her thighs, mirroring the knot forming again in her stomach. She'd caused her father so much worry in his life already, the thought that he'd nearly had a heart attack because of her, only brought back to her images of him being tied up and tortured with pictures of her nude, gunshot body.

"He was relieved to see me, and went right to sleep after. He looks so weak..."

Turning her head, Babs kissed the inside of his forearm before resting he forehead against the same spot. "I'm... really worried, and angry, and scared he's going to die. He's all I've got, Dick."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Dick wraps his arms around her from behind, holding her to comfort the both of them. They'd been through so much together, since they were stupidly fearless teens under Bruce's tutelage: friends, teammates, lovers....and that nagging belief that in the year they lost, something more had been there too.

"He isn't all you've got," Dick breathes into her coppery locks. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

The breath she releases is almost a sob, though one so weak it's closer to a whimper. Reaching behind her, Babs puts a hand on the back of his neck, her fingers curling in the soft hair there.

"I hope not," she confessed in a whisper. They were friends and family and even closer, able to talk about anything, but sometimes there were still things that were terrifying to admit. Things that made her feel far more vulnerable than she liked. "Please don't."

[aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com]

Terrifying was the word, all right.

"You should get some rest," he eventually states. "I think Alfred is working on getting something to make you more comfortable here."

[themightyoracle.livejournal.com]

"I want to stay where he can see me, if I can," she tells him, clearing her throat. "You should have seen the look on his face when he saw that I was really here - I don't want him to worry that I'm not, even if I have to sleep in the chair." The chair that didn't even have arms, and so would likely not be the safest place for her to try and take a nap.

Quieter, she asks the thousand dollar question: "How long can you stay?"