DISCLAIMER: Birds of Prey isn't mine.

I watched a tribute to Barbara Gordon on youtube with the song "Hallelujah", and this little idea popped into my head. For whatever reason, I seem to be writing shorter fics these days. Sigh.

I've never thought of Barbara as broken. Not for years, anyways. But this whole thing with Lady Shiva...my friend Sandy...made me realize that in a lot of ways, she's never healed. Not really. I mean, I know that there are some wounds that just never close-hell, I know that better than anyone-but somehow, I always thought that she just...got over it. I was always the one battling back my anger and pain, and she was always there for me. I never thought that maybe...maybe she needed me to be there too. Not that she ever would have said that; Barbara is stubborn, and like me, she hates being vulnerable, but I should have seen that she needed me. I should have known that she was hurting too. Or maybe I did and I just didn't care. She always tells me that I saved her life because I needed her, but I can't shake this feeling that she needed me too and I wasn't there.

Maybe that's what keeps me with her, is the fact that one night both of us shattered and we haven't quite learned how to put the pieces back in place. And maybe there are some pieces that are missing or damaged beyond repair. Is that the real trick: How to put together a puzzle that's not all there? Or maybe to create a new picture from what's left behind? I don't know. I don't know if I want to.

I've seen Barbara woken by nightmares more than once, and every time, it kills me to see the terror and horror in her eyes. One bullet brought down a legend, that's what Barbara once told me with a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, but I don't know if she realizes that it isn't true. Batgirl is never coming back, and I can see how much that still hurts after all this time. But Barbara was always the legend; Batgirl was simply the name, the mask, she chose for herself. One bullet redefined that legend, but it never died-she never died. She became something, someone, else, and came back stronger than before. Barbara doesn't know any of this, and maybe that's what hurts most: That she thinks she's less than she was.

I never thought I would need to tell Barbara any of this. I never thought that she could still be so broken and yet have so much strength to give. And I never thought that maybe she might need my strength too. She keeps herself locked away; always Oracle, always analytical and logical, but she's still Barbara, she's still my guardian and my friend. She's still my hero. But even heroes need help sometimes. Isn't that what the Justice League is for?

I don't know if I can help her when I still have so much that I need to fix in myself. But I have to at least try. I owe that to her, to the woman who gave me a reason to live...and to the one who cared so much for us both. Maybe that's the reason we both survived: To give each other a reason to hold on. She's always been my anchor, my shelter and my redemption. Now it's time for me to be hers.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah...