Starter for @batgirlspain
It was unusually quiet for a night in Gotham, although that might’ve been because the Batfamily was hard at work, who’s to say. But the silence was broken as-.
VWORRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
-a big-slotted mailbox materialized on a street corner. A secret door in the back opened as a man came out of it.
“Oh. Great. Not a million of those around here. Great.” He sighed, apparently annoyed at the mailbox. “Now, mysteriously spontaneous materialization in a dark and dank city? Not usually what I get up to but why not?” He walked on, looking around. “Wonder what’s going on….” He suddenly heard something and rounded a corner, seeing a costumed woman standing over a body lying on the ground. “Hey! What’s happened here!?” He yelled.
I tense at the sound of the shout.
“Great. Someone wandered in at exactly the wrong moment.”
I think to myself. I step away from the body and straighten, keeping myself between it and the stranger.
“Stop right there.”
I say.
“This area’s restricted.”
The unconscious figure behind me doesn’t move. Vitals are stable, but I don’t like witnesses, especially not ones who appear out of nowhere. My eyes flick briefly to the mailbox on the corner, still humming with residual energy. Definitely not USPS.
“I’ve got this under control.”
I continue, projecting confidence.
“If you didn’t cause this, you should leave. Now.”
I shift my stance, ready to move if I have to.
“You.”
I say, pointing at him.
“Stay exactly where you are. Don’t touch anything. Don’t come closer.”
Another noise echoes down the street: metal scraping against stone, distant but approaching. Not traffic. Not Gotham-normal. I glance once more at the body, then back at the stranger. Whatever just entered my city, it’s not finished yet. I raise my voice, firm and clear.
“If you’re lying, I’ll know. And if you’re not, then congrats. You picked a very bad night to visit Gotham.”
“Huh? Goth…?” He was thrown for a loop. “Gotham City!?” He cried. “No-no-no-no-no!” He muttered, though Batgirl might pick up on it anyway. “I must’ve reversed the temporal polarity and shorted out the causality nexus, triggering a chain reaction that sent us straight through the Void to here!” He sighed, pulling out a wallet. “Ryan James McCrimmon, at your service.” He held it out. It was Psychic Paper of course, so there was a chance it didn’t work if Batgirl was strong enough. “Gotham Department of Works, investigating reports of leaking pipes, which I will report back as either falsehood or truth depending on what I find.”
I don’t take the wallet. I don’t even lean in to look at it.
“Put that away.”
I say, unimpressed.
“Before you embarrass yourself any further.”
I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life. I’ve worked with city officials, police departments, utility crews, legit and corrupt alike. And I know for a fact there’s no ‘Gotham Department of Works’. If there were, they’d have collapsed into a scandal and three class-action lawsuits by now.
I fold my arms.
“Leaking pipes? Really? That’s the cover you went with?”
I gesture vaguely around us.
“You materialize out of nowhere in an alley that hasn’t had functioning plumbing since the Reagan administration.”
I step closer, lowering my voice.
“For future reference, it’s the Department of Public Works. And they don’t send inspectors at midnight.”
I glance briefly at the unconscious body behind me, then refocus on the stranger.
“Here’s the deal.”
I say.
“You’re not under arrest yet. But you’re staying exactly where you are, because right now you’re the only walking mystery I can actually see.”
I point a finger at him for emphasis.
“No wandering. No more wallets. And no more fake city jobs.”
I set my feet, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
“Welcome to Gotham.”
I add dryly.
“Try not to lie about the paperwork.”
“Dang it.” He put the Psychic Paper away. “What’s going on here, maybe I can help.” He took out his very odd looking Sonic Screwdriver.
“Ngh, sod it, keep meaning to find my proper one.” He muttered. “Keep getting sidetracked.” He went to the body and scanned it. “Ma’am, in doing whatever you’re doing with this man did you realize he’s an android wearing a skin suit? He is, not even a real human. Must be really advanced or out of its time zone. Too advanced, even for Gotham.” He pocketed his Sonic Screwdriver. “Listen ma’am, I know I just tried to lie to you but I’m going to need you to trust me, ditch that costume, and follow me into that mailbox, in that order.”
I stiffen the second he moves past me. My hand snaps out, stopping him short of the body.
“I didn’t give you permission…”
Too late. He’s already crouched, already doing something with that buzzing metal wand, and I hate that my instincts are screaming louder than my anger.
Android.
The word lands wrong. Heavy. I look down at the unconscious figure again: the too-still chest, the oddly perfect skin, the way my earlier check felt… off, like pressing against something that knew how to fake resistance.
I swallow. Damn it.
I straighten slowly, eyes never leaving the body.
“That’s… not funny.”
I say, but my voice lacks bite. Gotham has robots, sure, but not like this. Not this convincing. Not this quiet.
Then he says it.
Trust me.
Ditch the costume.
Get in the mailbox.
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Wow…”
I say.
“You move fast. Most people ease into the ‘abandon your identity and jump into unknown technology’ phase.”
I turn my head just enough to glance at the mailbox. It’s humming like it doesn’t belong in this universe at all. I’m standing over a machine pretending to be a man, in an alley that just became way bigger than Gotham. I look back down at the body. Android or not, it’s evidence, and evidence doesn’t lie unconscious in the street unless something worse is nearby. I exhale through my nose.
“Think, Babs.”
I say to myself.
“Here’s what’s not happening…”
I say evenly.
“I’m not ditching the suit, and I’m definitely not stepping into a mystery box because a stranger with a screwdriver told me to.”
I pause, then add, quieter, more serious.
“But… if that thing really isn’t human, then this just escalated past my pay grade.”
I step back, giving myself space, eyes flicking between the body, the mailbox, and the man I still don’t trust.
“So…”
I continue, squaring my shoulders.
“… you get one chance to explain why I shouldn’t call in the entire Batfamily and lock that mailbox down as a citywide threat.”
My hand tightens on my grapnel.
“Convince me.”
“Okay now that I hear myself, asking you to ditch the costume was pretty stupid.” The Guardian sighed. “Gah, how does The Doctor do this!? Look, you can’t call Nightwing, Robin or whoever else, I’ll get dissected.” He grabbed her wrists. “Sorry, but this is the only way you’re getting proof of why you need to listen to me.” He put her hands to his chest, and if she was perceptive enough, and she usually was,Batgirl would feel that it wasn’t an irregularly beating heart, but rather a pair of hearts. “That mailbox is actually a spacetime vessel in disguise. A Type 50 TT Capsule known as the Time And Relative Dimension In Space, TARDIS for short. I accidentally drifted sideways in time and punched a hole in the walls between reality, ending up here.” He sighed. “That, and because I’m from another universe I know everyone’s secret. I know who everyone is in the day. Shall I go on?”
I react on instinct the second he grabs my wrists. I twist, shifting my weight, ready to break the hold… and then my palms press flat against his chest.
I freeze.
It’s not panic that stops me. It’s rhythm. Not a flutter, not nerves. Two steady pulses, offset just enough that my brain stumbles trying to reconcile them. I’ve felt heartbeats through armor before. I’ve counted them in triage situations, during rescues, during fights that went wrong.
This isn’t an arrhythmia. This is two. I pull my hands back slowly, eyes locked on him now, my tone sharper, quieter.
“Okay”
I say.
“You have my attention”
My mind races, slotting pieces together whether I like it or not. The impossible mailbox. The android in a skin suit. The words that sounded like technobabble until they didn’t. Gotham has aliens. We’ve worked with them. But this feels bigger. Like the rules themselves are optional.
Then he mentions secrets. That’s where the line is. My spine straightens, every instinct screaming warning.
“You stop right there.”
I say coldly.
“You don’t get to use that as leverage.”
I step back, putting distance between us, but I don’t run. I don’t call anyone. Not yet. If he really knows what he’s claiming, pushing that button could make things worse, not better.
I search his face, studying him in a way I hadn’t before.
“You said you know everyone’s secret.”
I continue, carefully.
“So tell me something first.”
I tap a finger lightly against my own chest, just once.
“You really know who I am?”
The question hangs there, heavier than it should be.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen…”
I go on, voice steady even though my pulse isn’t.
“You’re not touching me again. You’re not saying names, and you’re not proving anything by threatening identities.”
I glance at the mailbox. TARDIS, my brain supplies unwillingly, and then at the android on the ground. Evidence. Physical, undeniable evidence.
“If that thing’s from another universe…”
I continue.
“… then it’s my responsibility to make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone here. And if you’re telling the truth, then you’re gonna help me do that without blowing up my city or my life.”
I meet his eyes, unblinking.
“You want me to listen?”
I say.
“Then you explain what that android is, why it’s here, and how we stop whatever else came through with you.”
I pause for a moment.
“And you do it without playing mind games.”
Only then do I lower my guard, just a fraction.
“Start talking.”
I say.
The Guardian looked around, and when he was sure no one was around he spoke.
“I wasn’t going to actually say anything, just stating the fact I know your identities, nothing more. Anyway, I don’t know for certain, but believe when the TARDIS tore through the dimensional wall, it caused a ripple effect that pulled that android from the future.” He stated. “Either that or it’s from the future of my world, like I said, not sure. Look, Batgirl, I know I said some pretty stupid things and whatnot, but I really need your help. I don’t know if that one android is the only one here, so your tech prowess is super advantageous, if you really want Gotham safe. Otherwise, if it’s just me by myself, not only will it take a lot longer but there’s a chance even one escapes, dooming Gotham forever.”
I don’t interrupt him. That alone says how far this has gone. Future. Other universe. Ripple effects. Androids, in plural, possibly. Gotham-ending stakes wrapped in a delivery that would sound insane on any other night. I stay still, letting the words settle, weighing them against the facts I can’t ignore: the mailbox, the not-man on the ground, the way tonight keeps refusing to play by Gotham’s rules. When he says my name, I don’t flinch. I watch him carefully, every muscle in my body coiled.
“You keep saying that.”
I say finally, calm and measured.
“That you know who people really are.”
I take a step closer, just enough to reclaim the upper hand.
“So I’m asking you directly… you actually know who I am?”
I tap my chest once, right over the bat emblem.
“Or you guessing and hoping I blink?”
I let the silence stretch before continuing.
“Because if you know…”
I say, voice low.
“… then you also know exactly why I don’t trust strangers who claim they can doom my city.”
I glance down at the android again, jaw tightening. If even part of what he’s saying is true, this isn’t something I can punch or hack and be done with. This is bigger. Messier. The kind of threat that slips through cracks and waits. I look back up.
“Want my help? Fine. I’ll consider it.”
I pause for a moment.
“But here’s how this works. I stay in the suit. I stay in control. And you don’t say another word about identities, mine or anyone else’s, unless I ask.”
I straighten, decision settling into place whether I like it or not. Gotham doesn’t get saved by ignoring impossible problems.
“If more of those things are out there…”
I continue.
“… then we find them and contain them. And we do it quietly, without panicking the city.”
My eyes flick, once, to the mailbox. The impossible blue box that started all of this.
“And if you’re lying…”
I add evenly.
“… I’ll know.”
I meet his gaze, unblinking.
“So…”
I say.
“Tell me where we start.”
“Yes, yes like I said I realize how stupid asking you to not be Batgirl was.” He sighed. “As for where we start, it’s in my TARDIS. She can scan for their hideout or whatever and then it’s a simple matter of going there and then using my skills in negotiation to find out their plan and potentially use your skills in hacking to give us leverage if they don’t immediately listen.” He led her to the TARDIS. “Yes-yes, it’s bigger on the inside.” He said as he went to the console. “No time to have it as a big spectacle. Dimensional engineering.”
I hesitate only a second before following. Gotham’s already crossed the line from strange to dangerous, and standing outside an alien mailbox won’t fix that. I take one last look down the street, lock the location into memory, and step inside. I stop short.
“…Okay…”
I mutter.
“That’s definitely not legal physics.”
The space opens up endlessly around me, vast, humming, impossible. Bigger isn’t even the right word. I force myself to refocus, grounding my breath, my stance. Awe gets you killed. I move farther in, eyes sharp, already thinking through contingencies.
“Dimensional engineering…”
I repeat flatly.
“Sure.”
I straighten, decision made.
“You run your scans. I’ll handle the tech and contingencies.”
I pause for a moment.
“And if this is a trap…”
I add dryly.
“… I’m dismantling this thing.”
I look ahead, ready.
“Let’s find the androids.”
“And we have takeoff!” With a KACHUNK! from the lever-.
VWORRRRRP! VWORRRRRP! VWORRRRRP! The TARDIS dematerialized.
“Brace yourself Batgirl, TARDISes are designed for six pilots and while the TARDIS compensates for most things it’s still going to be a bumpy ride!” The room was shaking as the Time Lord ran around the console. “And because you always want it, here’s the honest truth! I call myself The Guardian, I’m an alien from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasturborus, I can cheat death by regenerating I’ve got two hearts and generally I try to stay out of trouble but I’m very bad at it, I stole this TARDIS from my own people and I’ve been traveling with her ever since, flouting the principle law of non-interference in the affairs of the linear universe by getting involved in the trouble I accidentally wind up in!”
The floor lurches under my boots. I grab the nearest railing on instinct, knees bending to absorb the motion as the entire room shudders like it’s being dragged sideways through reality. Gotham gravity this is not. I grit my teeth and ride it out, eyes tracking the chaos around the console without commenting on it.
Two hearts. Regeneration. Stolen ship. Alien. I file it all away. Not disbelief. Triage.
“Noted.”
I say dryly over the noise, bracing myself as the room bucks again.
“Next time you steal a spacecraft, maybe spring for seatbelts.”
The shaking settles into a violent hum. I loosen my grip just enough to steady myself, cape snapping behind me like it’s annoyed too. I look around the room again, not in awe, but in assessment. If this ship can cross universes, then it can track what came through with him. Which means this just stopped being guesswork.
“Okay.”
I say, raising my voice.
“Alien. Time travel. Rule-breaking. Got it.”
I plant my feet, balanced now.
“But here’s the thing.”
I continue evenly.
“You brought a problem into my city. That makes it our problem.”
I glance toward the unseen walls of the TARDIS, feeling the motion beneath them.
“So we find the androids, we stop them, and then we make sure nothing else leaks through.”
I pause.
“And after that…”
I add.
“… we’re having a very long conversation about how you plan to clean up the mess you made.”
I tighten my grip again as the ship shudders.
“Until then…”
I say, focused, ready.
“Fly us to the threat.”
“Oooooooh.” The Guardian winced as he looked at the scanner. “So uh, remember how I called the thing an android? That’s because I didn’t know what I was looking at. Evidently what that actually was was a Cyberman. An upgraded version of them to be exact. So instead of flying into a bunch of harmless robots we’re flying into an army of a bunch of techno-organic zombies whose emotions have been erased from their minds. Must’ve been hiding in the Void and when the TARDIS accidentally punched into this universe they fell into this universe too. Not to worry, easy to fix. I’ll just talk to their Cyber-Controller, negotiate a deal, then use the TARDIS to tow them back through the Void and into our proper universe.” He looks at Batgirl. “And where you come in is the backup plan Batgirl. Your hacking skills are second to none. But you’re going to need this.” He held out the Sonic Screwdriver. “Cyber technology is too advanced, the Sonic Screwdriver will help you get into it. Don’t worry, the Sonic has a telepathic interface, just point and press.” He had the air of withholding information. “I’ll explain later, if the Cyber-Leader doesn’t agree with me.”
My stomach drops at the word Cyberman. Army. Zombies. Erased emotions. Yeah. That tracks. Of course it does.
I don’t panic. Gotham teaches you that fast. I lean over the console just enough to glance at the readings I can actually understand, then straighten as the ship continues to roar through whatever passes for space out here.
“Techno-organic.”
I mutter.
“Emotionless. Networked.”
I exhale sharply.
“So basically the worst possible thing to unleash in a city already full of surveillance and infrastructure.”
I look at the tool when it’s offered. Small. Way too light to be as important as he’s implying. I take it anyway, fingers closing around the handle. It hums faintly, warm in my grip, like it’s aware of me.
“Telepathic interface.”
I repeat flatly.
“Great. Because my week definitely needed more mind-reading devices.”
I roll my wrist, testing the balance, already imagining a dozen ways this could go wrong. Then I look back up, expression hardening.
“You said negotiation.”
I say.
“And then you said backup plan.”
That’s the part I don’t like. I clip the Sonic Screwdriver to my belt anyway. If these things are as advanced as he says, I’ll need every edge I can get.
“If talking fails, I don’t disable one. I take down the network. Or I slow it enough for you to do whatever interdimensional towing thing you’re planning.”
I continue. The ship shudders again. I widen my stance, steady now.
“And just so we’re clear…”
I add, eyes forward.
“… if even one of those things makes it to Gotham, this stops being a science problem and becomes a war.”
I tighten my grip on the Sonic Screwdriver.
“Let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
“Right, coming to land n-OOMPH!” The Guardian was thrown chest-first into the console as the TARDIS materialized. “Sorry, the real time envelope hit a snafu on the way in.” He turned on the scanner. “There we are Batgirl, that’s who we need to stop.” He grimaced at all the Cyber-Legions.
“Doubt even Superman could take them all on, even on a good day.” He went and peeked out of the TARDIS, the Chameleon Circuit now having turned the exterior into a giant 1960s computer terminal. “Good, no one’s in this section, we can sneak around until we find the Cyber-Controller.” He exited, leaving the door open for Batgirl. “Wonder if I still know how to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow in these machines.” He mused to himself. “Oh well, let’s hope I don’t have to.”
The impact throws me forward, and I catch myself on the edge of the console before I go down. The shaking fades, replaced by a low, steady hum. I straighten and look at the display, and my breath catches despite myself.
Too many. Rows on rows of identical figures, marching in precise formation. Cold. Efficient. An army built to outlast hope. I’ve fought mobs, cults, paramilitaries, even gods on bad days… but this is different. This is manufacturing scale extinction.
I force my jaw to unclench. Fear later. Planning now. I glance toward the doors as they swing open, noting the new exterior reflection in the internal monitors. Retro. Boxy. Blends in just enough to avoid notice. Clever.
I step out carefully, boots touching solid ground, and immediately lower my profile. My eyes sweep the area: angles, cover, patrol paths. Empty for the moment, but not for long. Machines like this don’t leave blind spots by accident.
I stay close to the TARDIS at first, then move farther, keeping to shadows that shouldn’t exist but do. My hand brushes the Sonic Screwdriver at my belt, reassurance more than readiness.
Cyber-Controller. Central node. That’s the head of the snake. I pause, listening to the distant, rhythmic sound of marching metal, and exhale slowly.
“All right, Babs…”
I murmur to myself.
“Hack the undead robot army. No pressure.”
I glance back once, committing the TARDIS’s position to memory, then turn forward again, focus sharpening into something cold and precise. I move.
“Stick close to the TARDIS, the unfortunate truth about travel with me, even temporarily, is there’s more often than not a point where you need to quickly escape. But the Sonic Screwdriver should still do its job when it’s activated, even at a distance. Don’t worry about being seen Batgirl, the TARDIS has what’s called a Perception Filter, so unless people are looking for her or you point her out to someone directly….” He mulled over his words. “It’s like…it’s like…” he snapped his fingers. “It’s like when you and a friend are in an argument and ignore each other, you have to force through the Perception Filter if you want to see the TARDIS. Only reason you can is because I let you in.” He tapped his foot in thought. “I guess while you wait for my signal to act one way or the other, if you have any gadgets on your person that need repair work you can use the Sonic Screwdriver for it. Just point and think and the telepathic interface will take what you want to do and help the Sonic Screwdriver do it to the best of its ability. I’m heading to find the Cyber-Controller watch for a message on the Sonic.” He walked away. Fortunately for Batgirl she didn’t have long to wait. A mere fifteen minutes later and the Sonic Screwdriver was beeping. If Batgirl was as proficient at Morse code as The Guardian hoped, she’d recognize “S-O-N-I-C_D-O_I-T_N-O-W!” And when the Sonic Screwdriver was activated the Cybermen suddenly started to spasm and scream. As their heads began to explode, The Guardian walked humorlessly back to the scene. “Before I explain, I want you to know I didn’t take pleasure in withholding information from you or seeing them suffer.” He sighed. “The reason the Cybermen are emotionless is because they have an emotional inhibitor built into their Cyber-suits. Turn them off the Cybermen can see what they are.
When the Sonic Screwdriver beeps, sharp, insistent, I recognize the pattern immediately. Morse. My pulse quickens as I translate it in my head: S-O-N-I-C_D-O_I-T_N-O-W!
I don’t hesitate. Fingers tighten around the device, focus zeroing in. A thought, a command, a single intention, and the telepathic interface responds. Around me, the Cybermen convulse violently. Their spasms are violent, mechanical, unnatural, and then… screams. Heads pop, one after another, metal crashing against metal, the noise raw and horrifying.
I step back instinctively, heart racing, but I keep the Sonic Screwdriver steady. My mind refuses to indulge in horror. This is strategy. This is control.
I glance at him as he walks back, expression grim. He doesn’t need to say anything for me to understand. The stakes are higher than anything I’ve faced in Gotham. I follow his gaze to the fallen Cybermen, the bodies twitching and still twitching.
“Emotionless…”
I mutter under my breath, the word tasting bitter. I already understand: these aren’t just machines. There’s something inside them now, something that can feel. I take a deep breath, hand flexing around the Sonic Screwdriver. Every sense sharp. Every plan in my head ready.
“Alright.”
I murmur to myself, voice low and firm.
“Let’s see what they do when they start thinking again.”
I keep close to cover, eyes scanning, muscles coiled. This isn’t just about hacking now. This is about survival and control on a scale Gotham never prepared me for.
“You just saw it.” The Guardian stated forlornly. “The emotions are too strong for them to comprehend and handle, and they explode. I’m sorry for keeping that from you Batgirl but as I said, I took no pleasure in it. It’s just, if you knew that going in you’d want to save them and…there’s no way to reverse a conversion into a Cyberman.” He held out his hand. “Just give me back the Sonic Screwdriver please, when you used it a piggyback signal triggered the ship’s self destruct, so we need to-.” An alarm went off. “-get back into the TARDIS and get out of here!” He yelled over it.
My stomach twists as the truth settles in. No fix. No cure. No clever workaround. I hate that I understand it anyway.
I don’t argue. There isn’t time, and worse, there isn’t a counterpoint. I look down at the Sonic Screwdriver in my hand as the alarm cuts through the air, sharp and urgent, and for half a second I hesitate. Not because I don’t trust him, but because giving it back feels like admitting there was never another option.
I shove the thought aside and slap the device into his outstretched hand.
“Then move.”
I snap. The sound of the alarm sets my nerves on edge, every instinct screaming evacuate. I pivot toward the TARDIS, already sprinting, boots pounding as the environment around us starts to feel unstable, like the world itself knows it’s about to end.
I risk one glance back. The fallen Cybermen lie still now. No movement. No marching. No army. I clench my jaw hard and keep running.
I dive through the TARDIS doors just as the air behind me vibrates with imminent disaster. The moment my boots hit the floor inside, I spin, bracing myself, heart hammering.
I grab the nearest handhold and shout.
“You get us out now!”
The ship lurches, engines screaming to life, and I stagger but stay upright.
The Guardian worked the controls, and when the TARDIS was at a steady pace he stood up straight and sighed.
“Look, I know, no one likes being lied to Batgirl, especially someone in your line of work. But would you really have wanted to know, just to be crushed when I told you there was no way to reverse it, or worse, die trying to fruitlessly find a way to do it?”
I sink back against the console, letting the hum of the TARDIS fill the silence. My jaw is tight, shoulders locked. Permanent. Irreversible. That’s what hits hardest.
I let out a slow breath and glance at him just enough to acknowledge him without giving away the storm in my head.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted to know. Not that way, not when there was nothing I could do.”
I say finally and straighten, fists clenched.
“But you’ll tell me the next step, honestly. No surprises. Gotham’s still at risk, and I’m not letting it happen again.”
“If it helps, though I imagine it won’t very much, I just ran diagnostics and it turned out that Cyberman in the skin suit we saw that led to this whole thing is a byproduct of the was from a future in flux, so now that the Cybermen were destroyed in the present the kind you saw won’t exist anymore.”
I absorb that in silence. Future in flux. Erased by causality. Gone because we stopped it before it could begin. It’s clean, on paper. Neat in a way Gotham never is.
“Good.”
I say and nod once, slow. Not relief, closure. The kind you take because it’s all you’re going to get. I look away, hands resting on the console, feeling the steady rhythm of the ship under my palms.
“Then that body doesn’t come back to haunt this city. That matters.”
I add quietly and straighten, focus settling back into place.
“Next time you run diagnostics, give me the bad news first. I’m better with reality than ghosts from futures that never happen.”
“I’m sorry for the possible PTSD from this, but after tonight we’re never going to see each other again because I won’t be able to get here again, so we’re good in the sense you don’t have to worry about future trauma related to me.”
“You don’t get credit for disappearing, but… you helped. And Gotham’s still standing.”
I look around the TARDIS one last time, committing the impossible to memory even though I know it won’t matter.
“I’ll deal with the rest. That’s my job.”
I meet his gaze briefly, then look away.
“Wherever you end up next… try not to tear a hole in reality near a major city.”
I pause for a moment.
“And for what it’s worth, I’ve handled worse.”
I add and brace myself as the hum shifts, ready to go home.
“And here we are.” The Guardian stated as he looked at the scanner screen. “We materialized on the block near the park, so you unfortunately have a bit of a walk.” He began to reset the coordinates. “Won’t be seeing you Batgirl, but despite the hiccups in the beginning it was a fun time.”
I glance at the scanner, committing the location to memory. Near the park. A few rooftops and a grapnel line away from normal.
“Story of my life. Always a walk home.”
I mutter and step toward the doors, then pause with my hand hovering near the frame. Fun isn’t the word I’d use. Necessary, maybe. Catastrophic-but-contained. Educational in a mildly traumatizing way. I don’t turn around.
“Next time you ‘accidentally’ tear a hole between universes, aim for somewhere with fewer civilians.”
I say evenly and pause for a moment.
“And try to remember that some of us don’t get to leave when the crisis is over.”
I pull the doors open, cool Gotham air spilling in. Familiar. Real. I step out onto the pavement and look back just once.
“Good luck, Guardian. Wherever and whenever you land.”
I say quietly and shut the doors before firing my grapnel toward the nearest rooftop. Time to go home.
It was a few months later when-.
VWORRRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRP-SPACK!TISSSH!
“Oh for the love of-I was flying us perfectly!” He then looked at the scanner and realized what was going on. “Always got to be dramatic, eh? Just because you don’t need Huon energy like your sister does and you’re equipped with your own Eye of Harmony doesn’t mean you have the right to tear through random Time Vortex tears whenever you want!…oh boy, here we go.”
VWORRRRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRRRP! VWORRRRRRRR-BANG!
The TARDIS, who chose to remain a police box despite being able to change, skipped like a stone on a river and managed to come to a halt on a street corner. Coughing slightly, the Guardian bailed from the ship, smoke pouring from the ship as the console was damaged. The Time Lord banged his head against the exterior.
“That was so stupid!” He chastised his ship. “Alright well, if I know if a certain someone saw us come down she’s going to have some choice words for us.”
I hear it before I see it: metallic warping, whining, then a series of impossible bangs. I duck instinctively behind the nearest car, cape brushing the pavement, eyes scanning.
Smoke curls into the night air, and I recognize the shape instantly: the TARDIS, stubbornly stubborn, resting like a battered police box in the middle of my block. My jaw tightens. My eyes narrow. Figures. Dramatic entrances are apparently unavoidable.
I step out from shadow cautiously, keeping low. The Guardian stumbles from the doors, muttering and banging his head on the console. Typical. Chaotic. Loud. Exactly what I expect. I cross my arms, lips tight.
“You’ve got to be kidding me… this is your landing strategy?”
I mutter. Smoke stings my eyes, and I rub them briefly, scanning the street. No civilians in immediate danger. That’s a start. I move closer, boots silent, staying aware of every potential danger. My hands flex at my sides, ready to act if necessary.
“Let’s see what kind of mess we’re cleaning up this time.”
I mutter, tilting my head at the smoking ship. My voice is calm, but my mind is already calculating. Ready, as always.
“Bar a little time to repair she should be fine Batgirl.” he tried to play cool. “Not with The Doctor, if you know him, TARDIS just took her sister’s outfit, like a petty sibling does. How long has it been for you? Been a few years for me, earth time. Am I rambling? Sorry if I’m rambling I really just need to know you’re not mad I’m back, regardless of how I’m back.”
I stare at him for a moment, letting the smoke curl past the streetlight between us. A few years for him. A few months for me. Time travel. Of course. I rub the back of my neck under the cowl and glance at the battered police box, still wheezing like it just ran a marathon through reality.
“Your ship crashes into my neighborhood again and your first concern is whether I’m mad?”
I say evenly and shift my weight, studying the damage automatically: angles, scorch marks, the way the door hangs half an inch too low. My brain is already cataloging problems it probably can’t fix. Then I look back at him.
“I said last time I’d handle what came after. I meant it.”
I continue before pausing for a moment.
“So nope. I’m not mad you’re back.”
I add, crossing my arms. My eyes flick to the TARDIS again.
“I’m just very curious what followed you through the hole in reality this time.”
“Nothing as far as I can tell. Scarlett - my TARDIS - she just wanted to prove she has a leg up on her sister. She’s got internal power instead of fully relying on her connection to the Time Vortex so she can dip through dimensions easily. Evidently the only reason last time happened is because she wasn’t ready for it. Although, speaking of her sister-.” He knocked on the side of the Police Box. “Alright you, that’s enough, you can change now.” With a VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVRRRRR! The Police Box was replaced as the Chameleon Circuit changed the exterior to a rusty car with maroon paint. “There we go.”
I watch the police box vibrate, the air around it humming like a live wire. Then the shape melts, folds in on itself, and settles into the form of a rusted maroon car that looks like it hasn’t run since the seventies. I blink once.
“Right…”
I mutter and walk a slow circle around it, boots scraping lightly against the pavement, studying the chipped paint and sagging bumper. If I didn’t know better, I’d call a tow truck.
“Your spaceship just turned into the worst used car on the block. Very stealthy.”
I say flatly and tap the hood lightly with one knuckle, then step back, crossing my arms again. The street is quiet. No witnesses, no sirens, no immediate disasters. Which somehow makes me trust the situation even less.
“So let me get this straight. Your dimension-hopping ship wanted to prove she’s better than her sister… and that involved crashing back into Gotham.”
I continue and glance up at him, unimpressed.
“You two ever consider therapy?”
“Excuse me? I’ll have you know we’re perfectly fine, we just do things that annoy each other. Anyway, good news is, didn’t accidentally bring any bad guys this time, just us.”
I glance from him to the rusted car, then back again.
“Uh-huh.”
I say flatly and tap the hood once more, listening to the hollow clang.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take ‘nothing came with us’ at face value. Last time that sentence ended with exploding cyber-zombies.”
I step back, scanning the quiet street out of habit.
“Give it five minutes. If reality doesn’t start collapsing, I might believe you.”
I add.
“I never said it last time.” He retorted. “Anyway, I think I’ll just explore casually and then leave, see you around.”