FANDOM: Birds of Prey TV
RATING: PG, most likely
DISCLAIMER: You know, if Tollin/Robbins Productions and the WB don't want it, I'll gladly take ownership of Birds of Prey. But since we haven't actually spoken about it yet, I have to say that I don't own them, don't make any money off of them, blah blah blah.
SUMMARY: Barbara's thoughts.
FEEDBACK: It would be nice...very, very nice...great Holiday present kinda nice...please? firstname.lastname@example.org
ARCHIVING: A HREF="http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Delphi_Mainframe/message/186">Delphi_Mainframe.
I miss the pain.
Okay, so that sounds kind of masochistic. But it's not like I get off on it...at least, that's not all of it.
Sometimes, when I would come home in the middle of the night, I'd be covered in bruises, angry looking red marks that would soon become beautiful shades of purple, blue, and green. My arms and legs would feel as if they were on fire, my eyes would ache from straining to see down the dark alleys. My knuckles would be split and bleeding. I'd be hopped up on adrenaline, and more than a little paranoid as I jumped at every little sound.
I loved it. Why else would I do it night after night? I didn't have the kind of family trauma that Bruce and Dick had-- have. I was an adrenaline junkie who found the perfect outlet. I was allowed to beat up the bad guys, the bullies, without repercussions.
I spent seven years safely carrying out justice for the city. Seven years of following in the shadow of one of the most famous vigilantes in the world. I was helping out my father, I was helping the people of the city, and I was having a grand old time.
The night I had my showdown with my greatest enemy, Lady Shiva, was both the best and the worst night of my career. I have never felt more elated in my entire life, knowing I was better, that I would win. And when the building blew, the first thing I noticed was the pain. And it felt great. But then I realized what happened, and my entire world crashed to a screaming halt. I had taken a life. And that didn't feel good at all.
It took me months to get over it. Bruce even put me on hiatus, because he felt I couldn't do the job. He was right, because I couldn't bring myself to even look at my costume.
That's when the Kyle's came into my life.
I recognized Selina from pictures I had seen in the criminal database. I didn't recognize the beautiful teenager she had with her, but the next thing I knew I was talking to them over a cup of coffee. Less than a week later, I was Helena's guardian, if anything should happen to Selina. It was a whirlwind courtship, but none of us complained.
About nine months after the accident with Shiva, Dick searched me out and sat me down. We talked for hours, about everything from my new job at the high school, to my new charge. He was shocked to hear that Catwoman had a daughter, but he was quick on his feet and knew who the daddy was long before I had guessed it. I thought he would've been more shocked about the fact that he had a sister, but it was as if he already knew.
Finally, we got around to the accident. I cried, he comforted me, and in the end he managed to make me accept the fact that there was no way I could change what had happened. I was needed in this city, so I was going to come. I was ready for those surges of energy, finally. I was back.
One month later, I would be in the hospital, close to death, and having emergency reconstructive surgery done on my spine.
I've never really recovered. I mean, besides the fact that I'm permanently paralyzed. Even when I was training to get my upper strength back, I didn't get that familiar, desired burn, that ache. I still don't, not from any amount of training.
So here I am, an adrenaline junkie in a wheelchair. I don't have my own legs anymore.
But ever since that night, ever since Helena had come to live with me, it was as if I had a new pair. New legs, new eyes, new body. When she runs, I run, I feel the wind in my hair, and I can almost, almost, feel that familiar ache in my legs.
And in return for her letting me see through her eyes, for letting me feel as if I can do what I once did, I make her feel alive, each and every night, underneath my hands. When I hear her moan my name, it's as if I'm flying. And when I moan hers, for one brief moment, barely noticeable, I can feel everything again, from head to toe.
I miss the pain. But at least I have her.