It was clearer now than ever that the passage of time had not been kind to the lasting members of the bat-family. Memories of Batgirl shone in her rearview as brightly as Jason’s death, and Richard’s move to Bludhaven.
While their family had continued to grow in the years to follow, Barbara’s eidetic memory had not allowed her to forget, for a single moment, the hardships they had all faced. Steph, Cass, Tim, Damian... while the original Batgirl and Robin had paved the way for their predecessors, that did not mean life had proven any easier for the current generation of vigilantes.
And after the many years she had spend rebuilding herself after her ‘accident’, no, fuck that- after her murder, here was Bruce Wayne, mentor and guardian, offering her a solution. Not a great one, mind, but a solution nonetheless.
Bruce had been so riddled with guilt following her paralysis that she scarcely saw him without provocation. Their comm-link partnership had seemed to suit him just fine. It was easier, she knew, than having to see her live out her days in the damned chair.
As it turned out, Mr. Wayne knew a guy (didn’t he always) who happened to be at the forefront of his field in spinal surgery- and Bruce wanted to offer her the opportunity, however slim, to seek his counsel for herself.
But to be faced with such a choice...
She could scarcely breathe.
If she saw the man and things went well, perhaps she could regain some mobility in her legs. On the other hand, if she saw the man and things went poorly, she could die- or worse, end up with less mobility than before.
Or she could choose to forget the idea altogether, and be content to live as Oracle, cyber-defender to Gotham and beyond.
Then again, there really was no choice to be had.