A/N: It seems Young Justice ideas keep popping in my head when I'm working on other stuff. Although, I'm still in a bittersweet fluff and angst mood. I had this idea while thinking what the changes will be if the Killing Joke happened after A Death in the Family, and it made sense for me to make it for the Y verse.

I also wanted to try and write Bart again, so he's at the end there ^^.

Rated T for themes of PTSD and for language.

In the immediate aftermath of the attack, she was constantly surrounded by others. Barbara was not so proud as to say she did not appreciate it. The silent support and reassurances that things will get better calmed her racing heart. If she was left alone with her thoughts too long, well, she did not want to fall into that pit of despair.

That said, some fresh air and relief from the sympathetic looks, or worse pitying ones, would be nice. The worse part was seeing her father's grief and guilt over what happened and wanting to get up and give him a reassuring hug. The problem was Barbara couldn't get up and do so because her legs were stolen from her, and then she would remember why, and the memories would come back, and suddenly she couldn't breathe…

She was a mess. Therapy, both for her emotional and physical fallout, will be a large chunk of her future. All good and healthy, yet the idea that she was clueless what else she could look forward to beyond being helped or 'fixed' destroyed her usual strong self-esteem. No dancing, gymnastics, swinging from building to building, all things she was useful with, and more importantly happy for, gone. Her conflicted thoughts whirled in her brain, and the redhead would not be surprised if her over-analytical mind ripped her mental state asunder.

Before that could happen, a cup of coffee was shoved under her nose, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Thanks, Dick." She said on automatic. The young woman did not need to look up to see that it was one of her oldest friends offering the drink. While practically everyone in the superhero community visited her hospital room to offer condolences at least once, the Bats of Gotham had started a routine she already memorized. Dick would be the one at her bedside for the longest time, either chatting her ear off to help distract her, or just sit there offering silent support, he hardly ever left.

Meanwhile, Tim would be near silent support that gave her space. He sat away from her, sitting near the door as a silent vigil and guard. She appreciated both sentiments for offering a relief from each other's methods, and that neither would stay with her twenty-four seven and go home and get actual sleep. Bruce did not visit nearly as often. Much of their relationship was as Batman and Batgirl, and if Bruce Wayne showed up as often as his two sons it would be weird. Nonetheless, Barbara could sense the Bat checking in on her before his nightly patrols.

"How are you feeling?" Dick's bright blue eyes were dampened, and his words sounded force. He knew what the answer would be, knew it would be a lie, but along with being a conservationist and bringing her coffee it was part of their routine to reassure themselves that she will be okay, someday. Hopefully.

Her smile was dry and bitter, but she forced the word out, "Great."

A harsh lie, and maybe one day it could go back to being true.

-/-

When Jason first showed up, she was surprised. One, that he seemed to know exactly when the 'shift change' between Dick and Tim would happen and slipped in the five minute gap they left open. She wondered what he told the receptionist or nurses. There was a strict list of people who could visit her. Bruce made sure she had a private room and security at the hospital would be taken seriously for her. Maybe the wayward Robin bypassed checking in completely. It wouldn't surprise her, yet it did not concern her as she thought it might.

Their last encounter as civilians had been months ago, and that had been minimal interaction at best, although it could explain why he felt the need to visit. Neither of them was at their best then. All their other meetings were as Batgirl and Red Hood, and it was a coin flip whether or not those were friendly.

Barbara was reminded with his posture how the teenager hated wearing formal clothes. His current look was business casual, yet he still wore the combat boots she saw him wear as Red Hood. Chances were it was his best pair of shoes. The shock of seeing him wore off in a second, and she offered the same tired smile she gave everybody else in the last week.

"Hey Barbie." He grinned; it was almost as forced as hers. With his expression, Jason showed desperation and rage, with undercurrents of empathy- and wishing to punch something in frustration. It was the most understanding look she had seen from anyone since she was stuck here. She saw it whenever she got the chance to glance into the mirror. The thought terrified her and she gripped her sheets tighter.

He must have noticed her distress because he tried to school his expression to a more neutral one; he was horrible at it. It didn't have the same dismissive and analytical mask Bruce or Tim had, or Dick's almost-too-perfect carefree smile. Nonetheless, she appreciated the effort and managed to relax.

"Hey Jason."

"How are you?" He walked over and sat down on the chair that Dick occupied previously. Before she could open her mouth to answer, he continued. "Don't answer that because it will be a fucking lie." She pressed her lips together before they quirked up in a smile. She missed her surrogate brother's blunt honesty.

"I've been better." Her voice was sarcastic, and she despised the bitter undertone. She was Barbara Gordon, she could overcome this.

Jason hesitated then reached out to grasp her shoulder. "I'm so sorry." She sighed and reached up, removing his hand but not before giving a reassuring squeeze.

"It's not your fault, Jay."

He turned away to hide the flash of anger in his eyes, but Barbara noted it anyway. He must feel guilty of not killing the Joker, and now someone else he was close to suffered through similar pain he did. That was her best guess, and again her stomach sank, for once after Jason came back to life, that she understood the sentiment. Understood, as a coil of rage in her gut, even if not necessarily agreeing. He grasped his hands into fists multiple times, clearly trying to calm down and keep his turmoil contained.

Feeling bad about what she was going to ask next, Barbara had to know and worked for the words to escape her. She cleared her throat and placed her hands in her lap. No feelings in her legs, she couldn't even tell where she put her hands down without looking down- she was half-tempted to believe the phantom pain will be better than this-

Yes, she had to ask this question. She closed her eyes and took a few rhythmic breaths. "Does it get any better?"

She expected a cynical or realistic answer, yet she did not predict the sardonic laugh or rush of emotions that flashed across his face. He stared at her with a neutral expression, and in a deadpan voice, replied. "No, it really doesn't."

All the muscles in her body tensed in protest at the words. That can't be right. Even though Jason kept suffering from the effects from his death; she thought he was getting better. The reckless yet hopeful little brother figure she had years ago wouldn't return the same, but she saw him trying, and she thought he was making progress.

"I can't accept that. Not fully." She met Jason's eyes with hers. She hoped she wasn't glaring, yet did not doubt in her mind that she came across as intense.

He smiled; the most honest smile he had since coming in. "That's how you'll be better than me." She frowned at the subtle withdrawn tone at his words, and without thinking leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Jason stiffened at the touch and she was ready to pull away when he relaxed and leaned into the embrace.

Pulling back a minute later, he nodded in empathy. Jason stayed a little while longer in silent company before he stood up to leave. Unfortunately, he timed his stay wrong. While he was walking toward the door, Tim stepped in, and his eyes widened in surprised at seeing the older teen. Jason smirked, once again on edge.

"How's it going, Replacement?"

"Jason." Tim inclined his head in greeting. Even though both boys were tense, Barbara thought it was an improvement. Jason didn't look murderous, and Tim, although defensive, did not seem to think the worse seeing him here. Baby steps. Tim had no interest in answering the question and barb, and Jason, wishing to leave before allowing himself to get worked up in turn, gave a quick salute to Barbara.

"Later, Barbie. Hang in there." He shoved passed Tim on the way out, but the other teen was nonplussed and simply rolled his eyes.

Tim sat down on the chair by her bed, instead of his usual spot by the door. Maybe seeing Jason here made him think he needed to give more verbal and emotional support. Luckily, he did not see the need to ask how she was feeling.

"You know, I should ask for help with something." She raised a brow at the non sequitur and succeeded to grin in response. Tim went on, "I need someone to go over a program I've been working on and thought you may want something to do.

That sounded fantastic. She could spend future time alone and not get lost in her thoughts. Inactivity will drive her up the wall. "I'd love to."

-/-

Barbara typed away on the computer, her brow furrowed in concentration. The laptop rested on her lap. It was heavier than a tablet, but easier to type on. It wasn't like she could tell the difference. She tried not to think about it too much.

She glanced up, expecting to see one of the boys come in, or her father, and was surprised to see Bart standing there. The young teen had visited her shortly after what happened, but he stood back when other members of the team tried to comfort her. He looked awkward then, and he looked awkward now. His eyes were wide as she stared at her working on the laptop. "Hey Or- Barbara. Hey. How are you doing?" He seemed to know the answer was 'not fine' (but she thought she was starting to cope), as he winced a second later.

"I'm managing." She said honestly. "How are you, Bart?"

"Good." He nodded. His eyes still wide, he glanced at her computer and her face and back again. He did it a few times at such speeds that Barbara needed to avert her gaze to not disorient herself. He continued. "I'msorryIknewitwasgoingtohappen. ButIdidn'tknowthe detailsordateandyouarelookeduptosomuchinthefuturewhenIcamefromagainsttheReach. Iwasn'tableto stopitandIdidn'tknowhowandI'msososorry."

The words were said in the span of three seconds, and Barbara blinked owlishly. She chuckled and motioned him closer. "Can you repeat that? My mind works fast, but not that fast." She teased. Bart nodded, although he was not put to ease.

"I'm so sorry. Everyone knows about you back ho- where I come from, and what happened to you. I came here to make things better. I can't stop personal tragedies though! I didn't know how, but I should have warned you. It wasn't fair what happened."

Barbara smiled sadly and reached over to grab his hand. Bart blamed himself in part over what happened to Wally, and she had no desire to add on to that. "It's fine. I'm sure there are worse consequences if you mess with the timeline too much. Maybe it's best this happened." She nearly choked on the words, but pushed on. "You did help us, and Jaime, and everyone is grateful you're here so we can get to know you."

His expression became more troubled, although he relaxed to the point where he sat down. "I know. That- that's not the reason I came to visit though." Bart's voice became serious. He struggled with choosing his words, tapping his foot in frustration. "Do you like what you're doing?" He blurted out. His gaze went back to her computer. Confused, she nodded. The auburn-haired teen leaned back in the seat and twiddled his thumbs. It was adorable. "You know how I said Or- how everyone looked up to you? You were practically a legend, Barb. When you were around, everyone went to you for answers. It gave the people in the resistance hope to know someone was there to coordinate everything." He wasn't sure what to be comfortable with sharing. Barbara waited, patient and curious.

"I didn't, I mean, I didn't know you personally, but for years, decades really, you were such an inspiration to everyone." He sighed.

"So what you're saying is…?" She asked, dots connecting in her head, analyzing her skills and possible future preferences. There was a lot she could work on with her organization skills, with helping Batman for years.

He laughed, a soft nervous chuckle and he ran his hand through his hair. There was a bittersweet pang of amusement as it reminded her of Wally. She lost so many friends. "I mean this doesn't stop you. I don't think anything can." He stood up and started to head for the door.

"Thank you, Bart." She met his eyes for a second before concentrating back on her laptop.

He waved. "Of course, wise old seer!" He then darted out of the hospital room. Yes, he was channeling Wally's humor there. Barbara shook her head in exasperation and returned to her work.

A/N: Thank you everyone for reading and hope you enjoyed.