Who: Barbara Gordon Where: Gotham City, NJ When: 7/4 (backdated) What: Barbara reacts to the Joker's death. Rating: PG-13
Bombs in Metropolis.
The alert to her phone hit her like a faceful of cold water, but outside, Barbara was calm. "Shoot. Karen, I completely forgot I promised a friend I'd help her move today, and now she is harassing me. But you know when my office hours are, so I'd love to continue this discussion some time this week." She gathered up her things, ushering one of the undergrads out of her office. "Just enjoy the fourth. You're allowed to not think about classes for one day." She waved the girl off, locking the tiny space she shared with some of the other comp sci adjuncts behind her. What started as a brisk walk, quickly turned into a sprint to her motorcycle. The entire ride back, all the variables were going through her mind. Who was behind it? How could she best help?
Neurological agent at Metropolis movie theater.
She stared at the message waiting for her on the monitor when she got back up to Clocktower. Quickly, she went to work pulling up police lines, eyewitness reports, tweets, whatever she could find. The symptoms were oddly familiar. What was Scarecrow doing in Metropolis? It seemed less calculated and a painting with a broader stroke than what fit the profile she had of him. Was it a distraction for something else? And what did it have to do with the bombs? That wasn't Scarecrow's MO at all.
There had to be something else at play.
Intrepid reporter Lois Lane rushed to hospital.
Barbara was about to brush this detail off as unimportant when another alert came through a short time later.
Intrepid reporter Lois Lane missing.
Anyone who had been in the business long enough knew that there were two reasons Lois Lane went missing. The first was that she managed to piss someone off with her investigations. The second was someone trying to piss off Superman. Looking at the scope of the violence in Metropolis, assuming they were all related, she had to assume this was the latter.
She sat back in her hair, staring at her screen, deep in thought. She had been compiling data for hours now, painting a picture with each alert and offering support to whatever heroes were on the scene. She drummed her fingers against her arm rest and frowned. She had an odd feeling in her gut that she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was something connecting all the pieces, but unfortunately, she didn't figure it out until she saw the footage. It was just a blink-and-you-miss-it shot of the Daily Planet on one of her feeds, but Oracle didn't miss much, especially not when she was looking for it.
And when the Joker was outside of Arkham Asylum, she was always looking for him.
Superman joined the party, and then every news channel had a helicopter out there to catch the scene. Barbara felt her stomach twist into knots as she watched on. Superman could handle the Joker. She wasn't worried. Still, she felt a little relief when Bruce notified her that he was going to Metropolis. Her eyes remained fixed on the confrontation with Superman and the Joker, and all of a sudden everything seemed to go in slow motion. Superman used his heat vision, and the Joker was knocked back. He was falling and on fire, heading to collide with another structure.
Her hand rose to her mouth. The reporters were in a frenzy trying to figure out what had just happened. She felt her blood run cold. There was no way. It was impossible. She could feel phantom fingers crawling all over her skin, but that was just her imagination. Because if the news was right, he was dead. And it was over.