With a violent start, Barbara was pulled from a dreamless sleep and back into her pitch-black room. As she remained lying in bed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, she wondered what had awakened her. Had her dad finally returned home?

She turned on her side and squinted over at the clock on her nightstand. Through the darkness, the red numbers glared back at her, but it wasn't until she saw the tiny 'AM' in the corner did she realize it was already morning.

Groaning, Barbara gently rolled onto her back, using both arms to push herself. Thoughts of the previous day rushed through her mind as she stared up at the high ceiling above her. When she had returned home yesterday, she had expected Pamela to be waiting for her like before. If Pamela asked where she was, then Barbara would throw out the handy excuse she had prepared. But to her surprise-or perhaps relief-she found that the woman was not waiting for her. The door to her room remained shut, just like she had last seen it.

Now that her eyesight had adjusted, Barbara could make out the tendrils curling down from the ceiling. They resembled the tentacles of some underwater creature that lurked deep within the ocean as it waited patiently for some unlucky fish to swim by her.

"Did you sleep well?" A voice asked from the darkest corner of the room.

Barbara snapped her head around so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. "Pamela?"

A pair of green eyes twinkled back at her. "Yes? Were you expecting someone else?"

Realizing her throat had gone bone-dry, Barbara quickly licked the insides of her mouth. "What-What are you doing here?"

Pamela's eyes flashed in the dark as she moved away from the corner towards the bed. "I wanted to check up on you. I haven't seen you all day."

Barbara shifted around, causing the bed to let out a low groan. "Yeah... I was busy yesterday. I left you a note. Did you see it?"

"I did," Pamela answered, taking a few more soundless steps closer. "It was very considerate." Even without her dad around, the woman still kept that same irritating, sultry tone of hers. Barbara wondered if she did this on purpose to further grate her.

"I only wish you would have told me the truth."

Barbara flinched. How could she have known? There was no way. She had taken every precaution to make sure of it. Yet, Pamela only seemed to know she wasn't where she said she was. Not where she actually was.

As if she could read her thoughts, Pamela added, "I called the library. So imagine my surprise when they told me no one by name of Barbara Gordon stopped by."

She stood only a few feet away from the edge of the bed. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch Barbara's skin with her nails. "So where were you?"

It was a fair question, but it was phrased more like a demand. And Barbara didn't like demands, especially by people who thought they were entitled to one.

"I was out with a friend." Grabbing her right leg with both hands, Barbara swung it over the bed before doing the same with the other one. After a few minutes of trying to catch her breath, she glanced up and saw Pamela still standing there, blocking her from reaching her wheelchair. "Excuse me."

But Pamela did not move. She remained there, glaring down at Barbara. "Where do you think you're going now?"

Barbara frowned. "Uh, to the library."

Pamela's eyes narrowed into slits. "You think I'm going to let you go out after you lied to me?"

Each second longer Barbara was forced to spend with this woman only wore her already thin patience down even further. "I need to get a job! What? You think my dad is going to just let me stay here and do nothing?"

Screw it, she didn't owe this woman an explanation. This was her dad's problem. Let him put up with Pamela's bullshit. Reaching for the phone on the nightstand, Barbara had barely lifted it off the receiver when Pamela suddenly slammed it back down.

"You want me to disturb your father right now when he's at work? That poor man already has enough to deal with! Of course, you wouldn't know since you're only concerned with yourself," she spat. "Do you know what time he came home last night? It was past one! He barely sleeps, he's overworked, and now he has to deal with his rebellious daughter! No, I'm putting my foot down. As your stepmother-"

"You're not my stepmother yet, Pamela." Barbara glared. "Now, either help me or get out of the way."

For a second, Barbara was sure Pamela was going to reach out and slap her. Even in the darkness, there was enough light from the approaching sunrise to make out the twitch of her arm. Whether she had been prepared to do so or not, Barbara never found out because Pamela abruptly turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

"Heinous bitch," she said under her breath, a part of her hoping Pamela had heard. If she wanted to play dirty, then fine. Barbara wasn't scared of a little mud-slinging.

"You better get going soon!" Pamela called from the other room. "That is if you really are going to the library. Don't think I won't call and make sure."

Oh, if only Pamela were still in the room. Being called a "heinous bitch," would've been the least offensive thing Barbara could've come up with it as she got dressed.

**

By the time Barbara arrived at the library, the sun had already risen high into the sky behind the storm clouds gathering above the city. Dark shadows turned weathered buildings even shabbier, making their black rot look even worse than if it would have been a sunny day. The Gotham City Library was no exception. From the crumbling pillars to the rusty sign at the front, it was clear this was one of the oldest buildings in the city and just as neglected as all the rest. Barbara was just grateful the city had enough decency to install a ramp, no matter how uneven and crudely paved it might be.

However, the inside was a different story. While it was still dimly lit like all the other buildings she had been in, Barbara could tell it had been recently refurbished. With its unstained carpets and unpeeling painted walls, she knew better than to think it had always been this way.

The librarian, Mrs. Kringle, must have seen her bemused expression since she said, "You should've seen this place a few months back. You couldn't step anywhere without it smelling like mold and mildew. Thankfully, Bruce Wayne stepped in and offered to renovate the entire library. He even donated books from his own private collection!"

Barbara could only wonder if he planned to be as generous with the exterior too. The poor lions seated at the front didn't even have faces after having been washed away from the acid rain. But the smile on Mrs. Kringle's face as she led Barbara through the library was infectious, and Barbara didn't have the heart to wipe it off.

If there was one thing that didn't fit in Gotham, it was the old woman. She was too sweet and cheerful to be living in a city like this. How it hadn't turned her into some cranky old crone was beyond Barbara. Instead, she was one of the kindest people Barbara had ever met, having hired her on the spot after just meeting her.

"I need all the help I can get," the woman told her with a warm smile.

And Barbara was more than happy to help. Not only was the work easy, she mostly had to shelve books and greet people, but she also welcomed any excuse to be away from Pamela. Their home didn't feel like home anymore after she had invaded it.

But the reality was her home was never really a home and hadn't been one for years. At least, not since the divorce.

With a deep sigh, Barbara took her can of disinfecting wipes and started cleaning the tabletops. While she gazed back at her forlorn reflection in the polished wood, she wondered what her dad was doing at the moment. Had he made a break in the disappearances? Was he really overworked? God, when was the last time she had even seen him? Her first day back in Gotham?

Barbara couldn't help but think maybe Pamela was right. That she was so concerned about herself she failed to notice her father's absence. He was hurting too, probably more than she was despite the accident having happened to her. Was this his way of coping? By burying himself in his work? The answers to these questions only deepened Barbara's frown, making her feel even worse than when she had come in.

She crumpled the wipe in her fist. Damn that woman. She really was messing with her head.

"Hey, Babs!" A voice chirped from behind.

Barbara turned and saw Officer Bard making a beeline for her. Still clad in his blue uniform, she figured he must have just come from the station. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I remembered you mentioning the library yesterday, and I figured you couldn't bum around forever." He grinned at her. "Glad my detective instincts turned out to be right."

"What detective instincts?" She tried to fight the smile spreading across her lips.

"Ouch. So you want to go grab lunch or something?" He looked at her with an eager glint in his eyes.

"Is it lunchtime already?" She glanced at the large clock on the wall, seeing that it was indeed past noon. "Wow, I didn't realize time had gone by so fast."

"What have you been doing?" he asked as they headed for the front door. Though Barbara knew he didn't have to, she appreciated how he walked beside her.

"Shelving books, answering people's questions, greeting people." She shrugged. "Right now, I was wiping down the tables. You know, librarian stuff."

"Sounds easy. I wish I had that job." He glanced down at her with his signature grin.

"No way, your job is way cooler. You know I'd do anything to be on the force." And she knew he did. The awkward silence that came between them afterward indicated so.

Okay, maybe she shouldn't have said that. How did she expect him to respond to that? With pity? She knew that he knew she would punch him if he did that.

"So..." He stared up at the sky as if he was trying to avoid meeting her eyes.
"I filed a report yesterday."

"Good. Hopefully, the GCPD looks into it as soon as possible."

He sighed. "That's the thing. They're so focused on the disappearances and gangs and all the other shit that goes down here, who knows when they'll get to it. It's right here." He pointed to the corner where the name "Falcone's Pizza," was printed on a red, white, and green awning.

"Great," Barbara muttered. "Why am I not surprised?"

Opening the door, Officer Bard let Barbara inside before following in after her. An old, white-haired Italian man immediately seated the pair, taking them to the back of the tiny restaurant. After placing their drink orders, Barbara turned to her friend and grabbed his hand.

"Jason," she said slowly. She had never used his first name before, preferring to keep their relationship more formal. But she needed to get his attention. Get him to see just how serious this was. "You need to look into her. On your own."

Jason gaped at her as if he had misheard. "Barbara, you know I can't do that."

"Please, just this once." Barbara wasn't one for begging, but if it would sway Officer Bard, then she'd get on her knees somehow. "I really need this favor."

With a groan, Jason finally agreed. "Ugh, fine." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But you owe me a date after this!"

"What? This isn't a date?" Barbara quirked her eyebrow.

"You know what I mean. I come pick you up. Take you to a fancy restaurant."

Barbara snorted. "I'm sure my dad would love that. He's been after me for years to go out with you."

Jason suddenly shot up in his chair, his head snapping to attention as he leaned forward. "Wait, you've never told me this."

"You never asked." She glanced at the waiter coming back with their drinks. "I think we're ready to order."

So they sat there, talking and catching up with each other's lives for the next hour. And by the time she had taken the first bite into the warm slice of pizza, Barbara actually found herself looking forward to that date.