Something made of glass came crashing onto the floor downstairs, waking Barbara back into the conscious world. What followed were two loud voices arguing back and forth.

Jolting upwards as the night's memories came rushing to her, Barbara's head immediately began to ache from the abrupt movement. The room around her spun and she had to grab the bedpost to steady herself. She groaned, pressing her warm forehead against the cool wood.

Barbara's head snapped to the side when she heard the door start to open. A warm, leathery scent filled the room before a man entered, still dressed in his business attire despite the late hour.

But unlike the previous time, Barbara recognized him. "What- Mr. Wayne?!"

A stabbing pain shot through her neck, reminding her of the cut on it. Her hand jerked towards her neck, barely grazing the wound.

"Don't touch it." Bruce snarled at her, causing the girl to freeze.

"Sorry." She quickly brought her hand to her side, resting it on the silk bedsheets. She felt his eyes on her, begging for her to look up.

Neither one of them continued to say anything.

"Were you the one who cleaned my wound?" Barbara asked, keeping her eyes to the side.

"Yes."

"Um, thank you?" She coughed. "So... Richard brought me here after I passed out?"

"Yes."

"Where is he now?"

"Downstairs." Bruce hadn't so much as blinked in response to her questions.

"What else did you do when I was knocked out?" Barbara finally met his gaze.

"I disinfected your wound and stitched it, which is why I didn't want you to touch it and risk the possibility of infection or undoing them." He narrowed his eyes at her. There was a blue fire burning within them, threatening to melt Barbara under their scrutiny.

"Yes, I understand that." She frowned. "Perhaps I should go thank Richard too for bringing me here." In reality, she just wanted to get away from this man's presence.

"No. First, I have some questions to ask you in my office." His face remained as emotionless as ever, almost as if he were bored.

"Why not just ask them here?" The bed creaked as she shifted on top of it.

He tilted his head to the side, continuing to study her. "If that is what you prefer, then I will ask you here. But you will go to my office afterward to make a phone call to your father, telling him where you are and what happened."

She wanted to laugh at the gall of this man. "I will not. My father cannot know what happened tonight."

Bruce went over to the nearby vanity set and pulled the chair out. He was nowhere close to her, but Barbara felt like he was just mere inches from her face.

"Why were you in the East End district tonight? From what I know, you live on the opposite end of Gotham and your school is nowhere nearby." His posture was stiff and upright, never once slumping into a slouch. His hands were clasped in front of him, their whiteness contrasting with the black of his suit.

"Just exploring," she said with a shrug.

"For?"

"I can't really remember." She felt the urge to smirk, but caught herself. She knew Mr. Wayne did not believe her, but what could he do?

"How did you get cut?"

"I was attacked."

He crossed his leg over the other. "By whom?"

"Some bastard." Barbara's boldness was increasing with each question. She wasn't going to let this man intimidate her.

"And how did you escape?"

"I kicked him right where it hurts a man. I shoved him off and ran."

"Nothing else?" Bruce's voice was as smooth as velvet, but that did not make it any less unnerving.

"Nope."

"And how did you find Richard?" There was a gleam in his eye now. Barbara knew it was not a friendly one.

"He actually found me on a bench."

After a few seconds of silence, Bruce rose to his feet and left the bedroom. Barbara wondered if he had finished grilling her and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he reentered with something in hand.

Her backpack.

Without so much as a glance, he unzipped it and dumped all its contents onto the floor.

"Hey, that's mine!" She started to climb off the bed, but Bruce had stepped over the unceremonious pile and blocked her.

"This," he hissed. "Makes it difficult for me to believe that you were just exploring, Ms. Gordon. It also makes it difficult for me to believe a civilian like you, with no proper training, escaped an armed criminal."

"Well, Mr. Wayne." She fired back. "It is the truth. And I believe we are finished here." She pushed herself off the bed, facing the man. "Shall I call my dad now?"

"That has already been arranged. While we were discussing this matter, my butler notified your father." He turned on his heel, heading towards the door. But before he could walk out, he came to an abrupt pause in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at her. "You can pick up your items now, Ms. Gordon. I have no need for such garbage in my house."

After she finished putting all her things back, it took every fiber of her being to keep from stomping out of the room like a child.

"Well, at least he didn't think to change my clothes," she muttered as she approached the staircase, nearly losing her footing upon seeing Bruce waiting there against the railing. The audacity he had to show himself after the way he had treated her.

"Is my father here yet?" She asked, making no attempt to hide her scowl.

"No." Bruce walked down the stairs beside her. "There is one last thing I failed to mention. I do not want you back in my house ever again. Richard may be kind enough to rescue you from the fallout caused by your curiosity, but I am not. Let this be a warning to stop your frivolous exploring and continue being the naïve schoolgirl you are."

Barbara could hardly believe this man's words and actually thought she had misheard him. But no, his words- his threat- were as clear as day. Before she could muse on this any further, the sounds of bare feet across the tile were heard.

"Barbara! You're alright!" Richard ran towards her with Jason following behind.

"What would you consider alright?" Barbara meant this as a serious statement, but the pair of boys laughed at her.

"I really should thank you, Richard. Even if I would have preferred a hospital. The service wouldn't have been as terrible." Barbara gestured with her eyes towards Bruce.

"Well it's like you said, he is a businessman, not a doctor." Richard chuckled. Bruce shot him a sharp glare and he fell silent instantly.

"It's been so long since I have seen you, Jason. How have you been?" Barbara turned to the younger brother.

"Bored," he huffed. "I have just been stuck in this prison since the night of your party."

Barbara was taken back by the directness of this statement. "You haven't lef-"

"I am sorry to interrupt you, Miss Gordon, but your father has just arrived." An older, British man appeared.

"Thank you, Alfred. I will escort her to her father." Bruce gave a short nod. He did not even have to say anything to Barbara. She knew she had to leave.

Much to the distress of Richard and Jason, Barbara told them goodbye for perhaps the last time.

The walk to the car was suffocating for Barbara. The fear was finally starting to set in for her. Bruce accompanied her in silence, which she found even worse than his coldness. Barbara made no attempt to start a conversation with him, too focused on what her dad would say once they reached the car.

"Barbara Eliza Gordon!" Her dad jumped out of the car, hurrying towards her.

"Dad, I'm so-" Barbara tried to apologize.

"No, get in the car! Right now, young lady!" He pointed to the vehicle, watching as she stomped inside. She scooted to the window, listening to what her father said from the other side.

"Bruce, I am so sorry about this. I promise you that Barbara will get a severe punishment for what she did tonight."

"James, it's alright. I am just glad I was able to help before anything got too out of hand," Bruce reassured the outraged man.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. If there's anything I can do to repay-"

"There's no need for that, James. Just make sure Barbara's wound does not get infected and that she's more cautious in the future. She might not be so fortunate the next time she does something like this. Gotham has become quite unsafe and tonight is proof of that." Bruce's eyes flickered to meet Barbara's enraged ones. "Have a good night, James."

"The same goes for you," James bid his friend goodnight before walking back around to the driver's side.

"Dad, I-"

"Do not even attempt to justify this, Barbara. We are going to have a long discussion about what you did tonight when we get home." James started the car and pulled out of the gravel driveway.

Barbara turned her head towards the window, feeling her face grow unbearably warm. As they drove off, she just now saw how large the Manor was. It was almost like a mini castle.

But that was not what caught her attention as she headed back towards the city. It was what was inside the Manor that drew her eye.

Richard stood at one of the top floor windows, giving her a slight wave.

~

"Just what the hell were you thinking?!" James shouted as soon as he parked the car, beginning to dig through her backpack. "Gloves? A camera? My pocketknife?!"

"I just wanted to show you that I am- I was good enough to be on the force." She sniffled.

"What you showed me is that you cannot even act like a responsible adult! You would rather be reckless and immature! You could have gotten killed tonight! And for what? To prove something so foolish?!"

"I'm sorry!" Barbara snapped. "What I did was stupid! I was an inch from death! I felt it! Do you think I'm not aware of that?! I will have this scar to remind me for the rest of my life!"

James's tone softened once he saw the wound on her neck. "If something were to happen to you... I cannot lose you too, Barbara. You are all I have."

"I know... I was so scared. When that man attacked me, I remember thinking about you. How I failed you." Barbara felt a tear run down her cheek and wiped it away.

James wrapped his arms around his daughter, starting to cry into her shoulder. To say she was surprised would have been an understatement. Barbara had only seen her dad cry once and that was when her mom left almost six years ago. She had always thought her dad to be one who bottled his emotions, especially given his line of work.

"I know I haven't been the best dad for you, but I have done everything to keep you safe. If there's something I have done, I'm sorry. If it's because of your mom-"

"Dad, I- It's not because of that." She hesitated before returning his embrace.

James drew back from Barbara, looking at her with both sadness and disappointment. "Okay, then now for the punishment. I have never had to do this before, so this hurts me as well. You are only going to be able to go to school and the library on weekends. After school and volunteering, you are going to be coming straight home, young lady. And I will have an officer do house checks at the designated times."

Barbara nodded her head slowly, trying to hide her twitching lip. "I suppose that's fair."

~

No matter how hard she scrubbed, the man's touch still lingered on her body. The blood and grime had washed off easily, but it was man's creeping hand she continued to feel over her skin. Her soiled clothes had been piled into a heap beside the washing machine. Soon, even their stains would be gone.

Studying herself in the mirror, Barbara's eyes flickered to the cut across her neck. The stitch was not too large and as much as she hated to admit it, Mr. Wayne had done a fine job. It looked almost professional. She sighed, running a light finger over the wound. At least her hair would cover it.

Barbara shut the door, seeing that dreadful display. An intense desire to tear it down and burn it filled her, but she was too exhausted to act on it. All that mattered right now was sleep.

As she lied down on the bed, closing her eyes to get comfortable, something dawned on her. It was an odor she had smelled in the Manor. Or rather the lack of one attached to Richard and Jason.

Instead, the scent of cologne had fixed itself upon the boys.

The same scent that had fixed itself on Bruce Wayne when he first came to her.