Barbara Gordon

Barbara isn't sure how long it's been since she cut her connection with Dinah. She's been on the move since then.

The submarine is filling up fast. As last stands went this one had gone pretty well. Except for that bullet in her leg. That wasn't such a good thing. But she'd definitely cut this one too close. Her primary and secondary exits had been blocked by Blockbuster's goon squad, and her tertiary exit was now under water.

Under water meant swimming. A long and difficult swim. Which would be hard enough for someone with functioning legs. But the sub is filling up fast, and it's that or give up and drown, and Barbara Gordon doesn't know how to give up.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out, then another. Each one stretching her lungs and diaphragm a little further than the last. The fifth one she clamps her teeth down over and dives.

The first part, the part inside the submarine, isn't so bad. She knows how the boat's laid out and there are plenty of handholds to use to pull herself along. But that doesn't mean the trip isn't a long one. By the time she reaches the hatch her lungs have stopped burning and black dots are swimming in front of her eyes.

It takes precious seconds to figure out which way is up. It would only take a few strong kicks to reach the surface, but that's definitely not an option. Babs begins clawing at the water, desperate to get enough purchase to make it those last twenty-five feet.

Progress is slow, and it's getting harder to think, and harder not to give in to the panic her body wants so badly. She loses track of the time, and even of where she is, as the oxygen reaching her brain runs out. Did her hand break the surface? She's not sure, but she is sure that it doesn't matter. She doesn't have the energy to fight any more.

I'm sorry, Dinah and I'll miss you, Dick and I love you, dad and It's not your fault jumble up in her head. It's not how she'd imagined things would end.

Barbara hadn't really ever intended to use this plan. That was in part because it was bug-nuts insane. But here she was, sitting on a cold metal floor with a few laptops strewn around her and one case she was glad was still here.

It had taken her nearly twenty minutes to get the wetsuit on. Skintight isn't easy to do when you can't move your legs. She starts adjusting the metal braces that let her move around without her legs flailing wildly. Ankles, calves, and thighs cuffed together with a series of bands that will let her lock her legs into one position pretty easily.

Dinah still hasn't checked in yet, and that's worrying. If nothing else, Dinah is a professional, and she knows how serious things are.

Babs finishes locking her legs down and grabs her headset. "Dinah? Come in, Dinah."

Please let her answer this time.