A Whole New WorldFEEDBACK - Oh Yes Please -You can email us docwho2000@hotmail.com author: docwho2100 and ellie no name Consensual relationship depicted between adult women in this story. If you have a problem with that or are under 18 please do not read. AUTHORS' NOTES – I am sure this has been done before, in fact we would not be surprised if this general storyline exists at least in the same general vein as I set it up– if it does – YAY and please let us know where those stories are so we can go read. As such, this is our first attempt at BoP or X-Files fanfic. Saying that, feedback is welcome especially if this is a lot like other stuff out there.
Chapter 2 - "All That You Wanted" (Michelle Branch) New Gotham, Saturday 11:00pm Anyone observing the scene might think nothing too much was out of the ordinary. A lone woman sitting in front of a number of computer terminals seemingly watching as information scrolled across the screen. And for most people that activity with no other movement might have passed for normal. But the fact Barbara Gordon had remained motionless for the last ten minutes just staring was not normal. Especially since her eyes were not moving either, were not focused on the screens but on an object on the top of one of the screens. She had missed two alarms and had just sat there. Her thoughts scrolling through her mind almost in sync with the information passing across her computer monitors. Barbara Gordon was not prone to fits of listlessness. Yet her motivation to do nothing other than contemplate the small object on top of her monitor pronounced the fact she was just not feeling much like Oracle tonight. In fact it had been this way for the last three nights. And if she was honest the last year or so. The only difference was tonight she was staring at something she had found an hour ago. She had, in a fit of restlessness, wheeled out to the balcony landing and had noted something in the shadows. Picking it up she realized it had not been there before. The item was dry even though it had been raining earlier in the evening. This item, she reasoned, proved her growing suspicions and created almost more questions than it answered. The computer wiz had thought perhaps some evenings she was not alone. Some sixth sense assuring her for one little moment in time she was not the solitary computer genius monitoring New Gotham and the world from her confined world. Well physically confined, with the increases in technology she was finding herself able to open more doors then she would have been able to if.... if he.... Her eyes dropped down suddenly as she gripped the handles of her chair tightly. An image of a green-haired man standing above her laughing as he pulled the trigger another time filled her world, swarmed her senses. She gasped loudly, her heart rate and breathing pulsing in a non-synchronous beat that threatened to overload her sanity. This time it was taste. The taste of blood, the dusty dryness of gunpowder. Followed by a trace of garlic from her earlier meal, the bit of face paint smeared on her lips as he had leaned down and traced her lips, lips torqued in agony and confusion. Every attack generated more than just memories or a dream or remembrance. These attacks actually brought her back to that horrible moment. The sensations were very real. If you could test for those sensations, taste, smell, sound, they would have come back positive. Somehow she was forced to relive those moments in exact replication. Barbara knew that sounded crazy. In fact, she was certain her sanity was being chipped away. But sensors she had set up a few months ago had registered some odd readings. During one attack that involved smell, the odors she experienced yet again had been recorded by her device. If someone had been with Barbara, they would have smelled gunpowder, the decaying breath of the Joker as he reached in to trace the lips and then kiss them gently before leaving. The readings had helped slightly. They had kept her from going completely over the brink but she knew it was still a balancing act. She continued fighting. Trying to heal her mind, spirit and soul hoping to appease whatever entity had started visiting her with these attacks. Even worse was the new set that had begun to alternate with the episodes from further in her past. The ones of Helena and Harley and..... No matter how hard she tried, she still suffered from these attacks and... and they had been getting worse. She'd not told her father, Dinah, Helena or anyone that a side effect of the fallout from Harley's tricks and that night when everything had changed a few years ago for her, Helena and Dinah was the resurfacing of these mind attacks. The attacks were becoming more crippling than the bullets that took her legs. This was because the attacks were slowly taking her mind. Panic attacks are commonly associated with many phobias, agoraphobia attacks for instance. It was cruel how much control the mind could hold over the body. But this was something more than a phobia. Yes Barbara possessed some fear of the Joker, Harley and the fact she was at a disadvantage no matter how independent she had worked to become. But it had never been the fear of singularity focus that had become increasingly threatening. A war waged between what common logic would show to be unfounded feelings and the fact that something was claiming her soul and spirit. She was being forced away from the present to cower in the past. A war Barbara Gordon was losing. The attacks were mentally and physically trying. She found it harder to do some of her exercise routines. Her eating was worse and her general thought patterns more erratic. Signs she managed to hide and disguise from the others. It helped that Dinah was away more and more and that Helena mentally seemed more and more distant. The slight notices the young woman would make and then question Barbara about were easily denied, turned away or explained. Barbara found it very easy to shift awareness from her to other things. All her life she'd let others take credit, stayed out of the limelight and the eye of the public. Even before the Joker's great gag she'd often shied away from pomp and circumstance. The role of librarian and teacher even allowed for this dichotomy. There was the public interaction in the classroom but she did not have to work much with others outside of that atmosphere. The attacks of late had given her more and more reason to make only a brief appearance at school functions. She kept other activities to a minimum as well. Such as being a consultant to the police department. A job she had taken only when her father had come close to guessing the attacks were back. He'd actually teamed up with Helena for a period of two weeks and managed to trap his daughter into accepting this duty. So now once a week she met for a committee meeting to hear about all of the programs that existed outside of the normal routines. From basketball sponsored camps or Guardian Angel programs, to liaisons between different law enforcement units and modifications in computer technology to improve the rate of solved cases, she sat through the meetings. She would attempt to appear interested. Occasionally latching onto a topic that did make for some thoughtful side conversation, she'd offer her one or two pertinent comments. Then the teacher would wheel herself away not going out to lunch with the others. It was the feel of the object in her hand that brought her back from this last attack. The soft yet strong texture. She must have grabbed it during the attack from the top of the monitor where she had deposited it after finding it earlier. ] She brought it to her nose and picked up the final piece of information she needed to confirm that there was indeed more to the shadows sometimes than darkness. That frightened Barbara. Worried her and made her heart ache more than anything else in the world, even more than over the loss of her mobility. She knew that the owner of this object had become almost indistinguishable from the darkness her partner inhabited. And the English teacher was certain she had helped to push the woman into the darkness. She was sure that even now it was partially her doing that kept Helena trapped in the shadows. "Voice activate, Gordon personal log - attack entry." She continued with the time and a very thorough description of the attack noting the sensation this time was taste and what she had experienced. Focused on the screen as the journal entry completed, she brushed awkwardly at the few tears slipping down her face, "Oh Helena I am so sorry, if I could change my...." She stopped then and hung her head for a moment composing herself. As she finished she rubbed the piece of cloth across her cheek and then put it on the monitor. She turned to focus once more on the screen this time logging in the information as she forced her brain away from any more thoughts of her inadequacies and her desires. There was no place for that in her life now. Engrossed in her work Barbara failed to note the owner of the cape that the piece of cloth had been torn from had come back. Had been once again immersed in the shadows in her customary position and had seen everything, the attack, the journal and the self-flagellation. The last an act she recognized very well as she practiced it on a daily basis as well. Her face a passive mask, Huntress reached out a hand toward the woman in the wheelchair miming the motions of Barbara so she too could wipe the tears from the teacher's face. How she wished that she could actually do that activity, take the tears away for the red-head. With a start Helena recognized the item in the woman's hand as Barbara placed it back on the monitor top. The meta-human tilted her head curious at the red-head's actions as her eyes sought and found the place the piece of cloth had been ripped from on her cape. Again transforming her mind and face into a neutral mask, the young woman turned and stepped to the edge. Helena glanced backwards to rest her gaze deeply on the woman inside who had bent over the terminal. Her heart heavy, she jumped off and sailed into the darkness once more. contact: docwho2000@hotmail.com page last modified - August 25, 2005 graphics from www.eosdev.com |