Batgirl, Interrupted - Chapter Three

She did not have a good night.

The heart palpitations returned, and she dipped in and out of consciousness. The haggard butler tried his best to keep up with each new problem as it arose, eventually resorting to sedating her fully. It would be easier that way, and she couldn’t damage herself. He chastised himself for using the feminine pronoun, but in all appearances there was no sign the girl once again on the medic bay bed was yesterday a man.

To Bruce, it seemed like time was a glacier. Immensely slow and painful, and then a jolt forwards that brought with it several miles of countryside. Snatched, hushed conversations were overheard. ‘League gone’, ‘police overwhelmed’.

She’d fight the artificial coma, but it was no use, her body was a prison, and her mind would just have to wait it out.

As the weeks passed, the pain dimmed, and the chances of deterioration became more and more slim. She could feel a tight pressure around her limbs now, like they were suspended in marshmallow, it was a familiar feeling, but she couldn’t place it. The thoughts came slowly, and were complicated due to the delirium accompanying the sedative drugs. Lights had been out for a long time, and for that reason, she was comfortable. Bruce was the darkness.

-

Keeping her stable was always to be a temporary measure, and so the time came where she’d need to be roused from the extended, month long stasis. Alfred had fought against it, knowing full well that her body may not have recuperated from the intense trauma. Dick needed a sign though, that Bruce was still in there, they didn’t want to lose her, him. It was a delicate balance. The two of them had been bickering through the long hours, sat in front of the Batcomputer, monitoring her vital signs in one window, and reading results of test after test after test. There was nothing conclusive, at least neither of them could find it. Dick had been raised an acrobat, and Alfred a butler, neither was exactly qualified for such advanced chemical analysis. It would take the mind of the Batman to solve the mystery of the serum, they could agree on that at least.

This was partly why the decision had been made. She was being brought back. Without Bruce to perform his intensely complicated balancing act of responsibility, the unforeseen problem of a vacuum of leadership had arisen. Dick and Alfred had spent so long taking orders and carrying them out, that now they were beholden to no one, they didn’t really know what to do with themselves. Most of their efforts had been devoted purely to getting Bruce back into shape.

After the final argument, a compromise had been reached, and a tentative one at that. She would wake, but at the slightest sign of something awry, something they missed, then she would be immediately put under again. It was so difficult making these decisions when an actual medical professional would have had the situation under control in minutes. They couldn’t risk involving outsiders though, not now.

The lights dimmed even further as the machines warmed up, the impromptu operating theatre had been a huge drain on the cave’s power supply, even some essential security functions had been sacrificed, in particular the manor’s external sensory system. Dick was on hand though to keep a close eye on the developing Gotham situation, and only the subterranean facilities were in good working order, the rest had to be managed manually. This slow descent into dim light accentuated the shadows creeping across the cave walls, Bruce would be proud, he’d always been adept at theatricality. Darkness aided their efforts too, with eyes closed for such a long time, removing bright lights was a prescient, if unintentional decision; they didn’t want the glare to blind her.

Beginning the process a few days earlier, the medication had been lowered to the point where it would become inactive soon. If she wouldn’t wake independently, then there were ways of facilitating.

Bruce Wayne, who lived in the darkness, defined himself by it, suddenly found that he was
being let go. The thick fog that had clouded every thought, and prevented the frustration and anger from breaking forth, was lifting. Consciousness returned ever so slowly, ebbing to and fro, before settling into a dull semi-awareness of the scantly defined surroundings. The medical bay. It was dark, two figures stood watching screens, Dick and Alfred. He was safe.

Then he remembered.

Going into convulsions, the two turned, and held her body still. Taking a little too long to engage the emergency precautions, she was left gasping for air through a dry throat, the coughing painfully jerking her delirious body back and forth. An imposing button on a sensor panel was pressed, and her whole body tensed to a rigid stop. The coughing continued, but was abated after she sipped a little water from a glass held up by the butler. It was time for some answers.

“Alfred, how long was I out?”

Alfred and Dick looked at each other, they were hoping to broach the subject a little while later. Though there was never exactly going to a good time to tell her. Bruce had cut through the crap, and only demanded answers.

“A month.”

“A month?!” Bruce fought against the bindings, her body from below the neck was encased in
some kind of thin, but ultra strong, fabric. She couldn’t move at all.

“Apologies sir, but we took the liberty of installing the energiser suit, with some modifications of course.” Alfred looked a little sheepish, after all it was he who had slipped her into the body hugging material.

Bruce smiled, there wasn’t enough gratitude in the world for what the old man accomplished on a daily basis. The energiser suit had been designed to allow the body to stay in prime physical condition, even when the damage was so pronounced that stasis was required. Feeling the numb arms and tense body, while still very feminine, distractingly so, there was strength too, enough for now, enough to sit up.

“I think you can let me up now,” Bruce croaked. “I’ve got questions for you.”

-

Sat at the BatComputer, Bruce had immediately accessed the molecular data of the serum that had caused these.. changes. Dick was stood off to one side, while the old man placed a warm hand on her shoulder. It was amazing to see Bruce getting back into the action so quickly, typing at the keyboard and recording memos to herself, though it was slightly disconcerting to see an unfamiliar girl in the Batcave.

“First off, where’s Tim?”

“Well Master Bruce, Tim has been keeping tabs on the seven territories, logging any movements, it’s all been saved for you to review.”

“Seven territories?”

“Like I said sir, you need to be fully debriefed.” Alfred was standoffish, but caring, as was his usual role.

“There’s no time, there’s no time. Do you mean to tell me that Gotham has been broken up?”

“I’m afraid so, each of the criminals who broke out of Arkham has carved themselves a slice of the city. The police could hold them back for starters, but it seems Bane and his militiamen are servicing the others with weaponry. It was only a matter of time.”

“Before what?”

Bruce had swivelled around in the chair to face her trusted friend. Her face was a picture of beautiful defeat. Concern was washing through her eyes, as the revelations kept coming.

“Commissioner Gordon has left the city Bruce, as well as much of the police department. A bounty went out for every uniform in the county. The city has changed somewhat since you left us sir.”

She turned and booted up the news logs. It was true, the city was overrun with crime. It only took four weeks without the Batman for the whole house of cards to come tumbling down. She couldn’t quite believe it, but it was all there. Bane, Clay Face, Killer Croc, Mr Freeze, Penguin, Red Hood, Riddler, and Two Face had taken the city for themselves. This couldn’t go on.

She stood, and tried to start in the direction of the Batmobile, but was held back by Dick. He’d been conspicuously quiet, but he couldn’t allow his mentor to leave in such a state. She’d be rusty, and would have to adjust.

“Bruce, you can’t go.”

“Just watch me.”

She tried to sweep his leg, and go out that way, but it was no use. Dick stood his ground, and
held her there, flailing. It was an embarrassing display.

“Let go of me Dick.” Her ego was more hurt than her body.

The former-Robin was happy to oblige. It was getting too weird anyway, he needed some air. Without another word, he walked to his bike station, and whizzed away. Nightwing was a hero in himself now, and there was so much to be done. Sometimes the best way to deal with things is to get out there.

“Master Bruce, if you insist on forgoing the oral debrief, may I take a brief time to myself? The past few days have been certainly punishing.”

Bruce nodded, Alfred needed his sleep, and he’d done enough already. She’d stay at the computer and work on synthesising an antidote, if possible, or at least get to grips with the compound that had changed her life so completely. Facing the enemy is the best form of attack.

“It’s all been saved to the hard drive, the more important developments have been flagged for immediate review.”

Alfred left, leaving Bruce alone in the dark. Just like she liked it.

The suit was comfortable, but didn’t allow for much discovery. She wanted to take a look at what had changed, there hadn’t been a chance before. Hearing Alfred close the door to his quarters, she reasoned now would be a good enough time as any. Returning to the medical bay, the only place in the cave with a mirror, she peeled the artificial fabric from her skin, with some static accompanying.

Standing straight up in front of the mirror, she tried to show no fear. She was about six inches shorter than usual. Her hair was longer now, flame red, and entirely alien. There was no sign of a smile, a needless luxury. The eyes belied a quiet intensity, which felt right at home amongst the driven emotions worn as a badge of honour, splayed across her features.

The shape of her body was displeasing. Despite the suit’s efforts, bulk muscle had been replaced by lithe tone, the breasts offset balance, and would require training efforts to become accustomed to, as well as the chance that they’d get in the way. Catching a feeling of her freckled skin, the roughness and callouses that accompanied years of hardship had been erased seemingly in moments. It was like she’d never climbed up a drainpipe in the rain, tumbled across rooftops or descended zip line, evidence of her former abilities gone. It felt so powerfully powerless. Bruce Wayne was afraid again.

This changed everything, fighting used to be a hard and fast game. She used to rely on build and bulk to do much of the work for her. Now it would have to be a combination of speed and precision, two concepts she was aware of, and practised in, but never a master.

A hand moved south, she was about to explore the new region between her legs when an alarm sounded. A perimeter breach!

There was no time, naked, she ran back into the central chamber of the cave, and approached the costume arrays. By habit, she stopped in front of her usual armour, repaired apparently since the last excursion. No way was she fitting in that. The same went for Barbara’s old armour, while she was of a similar built, the bust size would prevent the torso remaining in place. There was only one option.

-

Kane and Bill inched open the rusting window with their crowbars. The city had been so devoid of protection since the cops left that they were even able to break into old man Wayne’s house. He’d not been in town for a while anyway, and it wasn’t like losing a couple mill would hurt the guy. Really they were teaching him a lesson about loyalty.
Once inside, they made quick work of the old man, tired and slow, he’d gone down quickly, one crack was enough.

Where to start? Every room was opulent, and full of glittering objects. A moonlit bedroom was too tempting to pass up, dust covered, and preserved in period decoration, just like no one had been in here for years. The show of wealth was extravagant; they may even have needed to make multiple trips.

A noise behind them, maybe a rat. They didn’t stop for long, ignoring a stethoscope on the chest of drawers, they returned once again returning to bagging up the old lady’s pearls. The noise again, closer. Turning, there was a presence, a figure in the blackness. There were pointy ears. They could swear he’d only been a myth.

Only, stepping into the light, the figure wasn’t so intimidating. A cowl does not a Batman make. It was a girl, playing dress up or something, trying to give them a scare. Looking at each other, they laughed. They’d never been the luckiest pair with the ladies, but she might be into a bit of rough.

From the looks of her she was an heiress, beautiful and pretty well put together. She had the mask on her head, with a jet of fiery hair extending out the back. It could be Batgirl, but Batgirl don’t look like this. Instead of armour, an impromptu chimera of cobbled together uniform.

On her chest was the cloth Robin shirt, the original, from way back when, it was struggling to even cover her breasts, never mind reach her waist, and below that the black armour leggings of the Bat. It was a confusing mash up, one which threw the would be robbers for a loop, but they regained their composure quickly.

She looked uncomfortable, awkward, and slow. A rush of blood to their crotches, maybe she did want to have a little fun, but then again, maybe they would whether she cared or not. The one thing stopping them were her eyes. Something about her eyes told them they were in the wrong place, something in her eyes told them to put the necklace down.

Kane struck first, rushing her and taking a blow to the head. She was quick. He didn’t stop though, but was clearly dazed. Bill took the back, and actually managed to get his hands around her. She hadn’t anticipated this, kicking her long legs and grunting with exertion.

Shouldn’t have faced us head on, she’s strong, but they were stronger. He could have ended it then, but he wanted to see her squirm. As his friend approached, he started to pull up her shirt.

“Let’s see how Bat-bitch likes my cock signal.”