It didn't take long for Gotham City to be placed under lockdown after the massive breakout at Arkham Asylum. With hundreds of dangerous and insane patients on the loose, who were suspected to be behind the district attorney's murder, the United States military had to be called in to assist the GCPD.

A shelter in place for all residents was also put into effect, leading to the city looking like if it had been evacuated last minute. All the streets were empty. No cars drove on them nor did any people walk across them. Old newspapers littered the pavements; their fluttering the only sound heard in place of the usual city noise. The subways and trains had been shut down, frozen in what would have been considered rush hour.

It was as if the apocalypse had hit Gotham.

To some, it had. The attack on Arkham was dubbed by those who were lucky enough to survive to have been committed by 'The Angel of Death' or 'Death' itself.

If it hadn't been for the military presence, the city would have plunged itself into anarchy from overwhelming fear.

Right now, Barbara would be at the library since she had time off school. But since the lockdown, she had been forced to stay at home, reading a newspaper from two days ago. She had already read it so many times that she had memorized what each page talked about. It was one of her only connections to the outside world.

With a sigh, Barbara decided to head to sleep even though it was the afternoon. Even though she had been sleeping a lot more than usual.

But it was either that or read the front page about the breakout and Harvey Dent's murder for the millionth time.

~

When she awoke, the sun had already set and dusk had come to take its place. Her room was dark and strange shadows danced around on the walls and ceiling.

But that was not what startled her.

It was the wet, sticky substance clinging to her sleeve.

"What the hell." She choked out as a sting of pain shot through her arm. With a gasp, she jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom. But when she turned on the light, Barbara almost had to turn it back off to avoid the horrible sight in front of her.

Her nightgown sleeve was stained a maroon color right where the cut was. With great reluctance, she lifted the cloth back, grimacing as she saw that the wound had been reopened.

"O-Oh my G-God." She pulled her sleeve down. "What the hell did I do..."

"B-Barbara," A desperate voice called from her bedroom.

"Shit!" Barbara hurriedly bandaged herself. "R-Richard? Is that you?"

He didn't answer.

"Don't come over here. I'll come to you," she warned, slowly making her way back to the room.

She found Richard to be sitting by the window hunched over. He turned to her, revealing the blood dripping down his mouth and over his shirt.

Instinctively, Barbara's hand clutched her bandage in terror. "W-Where did that blood c-come from?"

His eyes remained downcast. "I shouldn't have done it... I couldn't control myself."

"Where did it come from, Richard?" The possibility of where it did was too sickening to comprehend.

"I will show you." His tone had shifted to one of urgency. "If you decide to help me. If Bruce finds out what I did-"

"Is that all you worry about?" Barbara interrupted. "Can you not live without making a decision based off of him? Can you not be your own man?"

"Yes!" He defended. "I can be my own man!"

"Then where were you?" Her voice cracked. "I nearly got thrown in jail because your father thought I was a rapist! And where were you?!"

"I'm sorry, Barbara! I didn't know!" He cried. "I really didn't!"

"I thought I would be happy to see you after so long..." She trailed off, turning her back on the boy.

"I thought so too... But I am happy to see you." He moved next to her. "And you're right. I constantly worry about what Bruce thinks. But you can help me. Help me be more like you. Please. I-I need you."

"Then answer my question. Where did that blood come from?" Barbara turned to look Richard in the eye. He sighed, gesturing for her to follow him out the window.

As they entered the alley, Richard's hand shot up, pointing to something lying by the staircase. "It was an accident."

"H-How was this an accident?" Barbara stared at the heap of flesh. "What did she even do to deserve this?"

"Nothing. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time." He went over to the body and lifted it.

"Because you were there," Barbara said softly. Richard stared back her for an uncomfortable amount of time, his blue eyes glaring at her. "I can't help with this!" She started to walk away from him.

"Barbara, don't leave. With the police and military patrolling, I can't do everything." He blocked her exit, holding out something to her. "I'm all alone. I have no one. But you."

She paused upon hearing her own words repeated to her. Taking hold of the object, she almost dropped it when she realized what she was holding. Her fingers laced around the strands of hair and brushed against the scalp. "Uh-uh."

"The best place to discard it is in the river. I'll carry the body and watch from the front. You carry the head and watch from behind," Richard explained, starting to leave. "Hey." He turned back, seeing that Barbara wasn't moving. "I won't ask for this again. But just this once, won't you help me?"

Barbara slowly nodded, trying not to look at what was in her hand. Acidic bile was starting to rise in her throat, threatening to spew out.

"Thank you." Richard smiled, exposing his reddened teeth.

The way to the Gotham River was as perilous and risky as Richard said it would be. Going over to the alley had been much easier since they were free of any extra cargo and could use the roofs and staircases to avoid detection. Confined to unlit streets and alleyways, they could see and hear every military tank that rolled by. Each police siren sounded as if it were just inches away from them. From above, spotlights shone into the night, eliminating any possibility of flight.

Barbara kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure they weren't being followed. She could hardly concentrate on the path in front of her, thinking that at any time someone would catch them.

"Stop," Richard ordered, breaking her from her thoughts. Barbara came to a halt behind him, waiting for something bad to happen. She imagined a caravan of cops standing before them with their spotlights and guns trained on them. Her father standing the closest, seeing his daughter with a woman's decapitated head in her hands. Seeing the truth. Seeing her for who she had become.

A criminal.

"Okay, it was just a patrol car." Its lights flashed over them, coloring them briefly in red and blue.

"Richard," Barbara whispered back. "I-I don't think I am much help. I can't tell who is nearby like you can."

"What are you talking about? I keep seeing you look over your shoulder and all around us. You're doing great. You are being vigilant," he said as they continued on.

"I'm being a hindrance. You and I both know that."

"If someone does spot us, I need at least one hand," he explained. "Either to escape or attack."

Barbara stayed silent for the longest time after hearing this. If they were caught, she would drop what she had and flee. Yet, she knew she wouldn't get far without Richard. She would have to rely on him if she wanted to escape. She only hoped he would not leave her behind in order to save himself.

Once they reached the river, Barbara nearly chucked the head into the water. She didn't want to spend another second holding it, much less gazing at it. Now that the city lights gave her the distress of clearly seeing it, Barbara was starting to lose her composure.

"I'll bury it while you keep watch." Richard took the head from her.

"Just throw it into the river and be done with it," Barbara said bitterly. "The river will freeze over and the body will remain trapped."

"But it will float back to the surface-"

"Maybe in the summer, but not anytime soon." She looked down at the already frosting water. "Bodies take a longer time to decompose in cold water."

Richard looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration, something that did not go unnoticed by Barbara.

"I, um, I read a lot of crime books and stuff." She quickly pushed up her glasses. "Also, bodies were hardly recovered from Lake Michigan because of that reason."

"See, you weren't useless! I would have never known that if it wouldn't have been for you!"

"It was just something I remembered..." She trailed off, gazing back at the body. That nauseous feeling had returned.

"So you grab the legs and I'll grab the shoulders." Richard lifted up the body from the front, placing the head on the woman's torso. Barbara immediately picked the legs up and balanced them carefully.

They only had to move a few feet before they reached the icy waters. For a second, Barbara swore she saw her own face in the water. But then she blinked and the illusion was gone.

Richard entered into the river and tugged the body out until he was just a speck in the distance.

As Barbara watched him swim away, that previous image remained burned into her brain. Even the hair had been the shade of orange as hers. She closed her eyes, hoping to shut that image out but she continued to see herself in Julie Madison's corpse.

~

Barbara didn't remember much of the walk back home. Or if they even walked back home. All she could focus on was on the change coming over her both physically and mentally. Julie's blood was on her hands and clothes and her. But for some reason, she no longer cared. She had been an accomplice in disposing of her body and this somehow did not bother her. She was linked to something not even human or perhaps alive and this did not frighten her. So many people around her were dead and yet, she knew she would not grieve for them.

"Your dad is still not home," Richard said as they crossed through the door.

"Yeah."

They continued up the stairs. "Do you know when he will return?"

"Probably not until late." She remained in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. It wasn't until Richard approached her and put his hands on her shoulders did she snap out of her daze.

"Here, let me." He started to unbutton her coat. "You need to get out of those clothes."

"Yeah." She did not recoil from him like she might have done previously. She just stood there, staring at his pale fingers as they undid each button. 

"I can draw you a bath if you would like."

"Yes, that would be nice." Barbara nodded her head as Richard took hold of her hand, leading her to the bathroom. With a shiver, she started to tug off her shirt, listening to the steady stream of water pouring into the tub. Although Richard had his back turned to her as he leaned over the tub, Barbara did not dare face him finished undressing. Covering her chest with her arms, Barbara stepped into the warm water, watching as it turned pink almost instantly. 

"Why didn't you come to me if you were hungry?" Barbara gazed into the dirty bathwater, trying to avoid Richard's stare.

"I don't know," Richard sighed, holding Barbara's clothes in a wad. "It happened all so soon. I just saw her and I lost myself to my impulses."

She finally looked at him. "Does that happen a lot?"

"No, not really." He put aside her clothes before kneeling beside the porcelain tub. "Don't be frightened, Barbara. I won't hurt you," Richard reassured. "I would never hurt you." He pulled her head over his shoulder, dampening it with her wet hair. "You have to believe me." His hands grabbed ahold of her cheeks and tilted her head to look at him. 

Before Barbara could answer, he had brought his red-stained lips against hers. The blood filled her mouth, stinging her tongue with its metallic taste. Repulsed, she pulled back, rubbing her mouth as if to get the bitter taste out of it. 

The taste still remained on her lips.

"I will have to leave soon." Richard rose up with a sigh and went into the bedroom, returning with a fresh nightgown in hand. "I can throw your dirty clothes in a dumpster on my way out." He placed the nightgown on the sink.

"As much as I would like you to stay, I understand." Barbara sighed, turning to see the towel he held out for her. Grasping the edge of the bathtub with her arm, Barbara had barely leaned forward when Richard was once again by her side. She felt the towel draped around her upper body. "Richard? What are you doing?"

"You shouldn't always be the one who assists me in this... relationship," he said, drying her red hair. "Especially after tonight. Bruce and I have put you through a lot."

Barbara lowered her head as he continued to dry her. "One day we will be free of him. After I finish college, I'll get a job and we can go to Chicago. You can finally leave him. You can be your own man."

"Chicago? I visited once when I was... still with the circus," Richard recalled. "Yes, I would like that."

"I just need to know something first... You are seventeen, right?" Her face started to burn as the question left her mouth. "Like physically?"

Richard laughed. "Physically, yes. In reality, I am much older."

Barbara nodded slowly, wrapping the towel around herself. Richard continued laughing as he left into the bedroom.

While in there, he caught sight of a notebook sticking out in one of the drawers. He picked it up, scanning the pages as he flipped through them. But with each page he turned, his eyes grew wider and wider. Quickly shutting it, Richard snapped his head towards the bathroom. Barbara hadn't come out yet, but she would eventually.

"It's all here." He gripped the notebook tensely. "She's figured out everything... Hey, Barbara." His voice trembled as he spoke. "I-I am going to leave now."

"Okay," she answered back. "Will you come by tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure!" He snatched the dirtied clothes, using them to hide the notebook as he leaped out the window.

Richard had just left when James pulled up to the house. By the time he had walked into the bathroom, Barbara already had her nightgown on.

"Geez, dad! Don't you knock anymore?" Barbara glared at her dad playfully as she dried her hair.

"Sorry, Barbara." He chuckled, standing against the doorway. "I just got home and I wasn't sure where you would be."

"I have just been here. Where else would I be?" Her sleeve lifted up to reveal the reddened wound as she hung the towel on the wall.

James's eyes caught sight of this instantly. "Barbara? What's this?"

"Nothing, dad." She drew her arm back. "It's just a cut."

"Let me see that." He grabbed her arm, pulling back her sleeve. "What did you do to yourself? This looks self-inflicted!"

"Nothing!" She squirmed as James grabbed hold of her other arm.

"What the- Are you shooting up heroin?!" He roared, seeing the parallel cut.

"How could you even accuse me of something like that?!" She yelled back. "Why can you never believe me?!"

"Tell me the truth, Barbara!" He shook her with both hands. "You are doing drugs, aren't you?!"

"No!" She cried. "Now let go of me!"

He did, instantly storming off to her room. James started pulling out every drawer and clearing out every shelf despite Barbara's protests. The man even knocked down the bookshelf in his fury, exposing the forbidden display.

"That-That's all I have been hiding, so there." Barbara crossed her arms.

"That's it?" James scowled at the display. "That is exactly why I don't believe you. If only Arkham wasn't closed at the moment, I would send you straight down there." He turned to his daughter. "If only."

"Then what will you do?" She demanded.

"You need help," he said. "Because I'll be damned if I let my daughter become an addict. I know of a psychiatrist who used to work at Arkham. He's now a professor at the university, a brilliant professor," James went on. "I will make an appointment with him even if this city is on lockdown. You will get help, Barbara. Come hell or high water."

Once her father left the room, Barbara collapsed into her bed. She had struggled to hold back her tears as he lectured her, but now that she was alone she let them flow freely.

"One day," she told herself. "One day we will leave this disgusting city. And I will be happy."

"Yes, this city can burn in hell for all I care!" Barbara cried out in anguish. "And everyone can burn with it."