Prey Of The Heart

The day was dark, rain had been pouring for the last three days.

It was almost like the heavens were mourning the loss of one of it's brightest stars…

The young woman gently closed the door behind her and leaned back against it. As quietly as possible, she sniffed, then wiped at a tear that was threatening to fall. She clenched her teeth and leaned her head back, to wait for the grief to pass. Her friend and foster mother was not improving.

The doctor had been positive that the poison had been scrubbed from her system, but her recovery was not in his hands. He came by twice a day to check on her and to reassure himself that he had made the right decision.

To those that did not know him, the old man that puttered in the pantry appeared to be unaware that a fight for life was occurring to one of the people that he served; that would have been a mistake. The truth was that he loved his charges and would do anything for them. Experience told him that what was needed right now was steadiness, coffee, and hot soup.

The young heroine paced back and forth in front of a computer screen, waiting for the computer to give her something, anything, that she could take her frustration out on. Her friend and foster mother was not improving.

The gloom inside the Clock Tower was palatable as Alfred served young Miss Dinah the stew he had prepared. Of the three women that lived in there, he always counted Miss Helena as a resident, she was the only one that would sit at a table and allow him to serve her. This she did only after he had convinced her that learning the social graces would help her – socially. After a particularly embarrassing date, she was convinced.

Still, nothing he could teach her would prepare her for what she was going through…

The other woman at the table was busy taking her frustrations out on a dinner roll.

"Really, Miss Helena, was turning that roll into confetti necessary?"

She looked at him with contempt that softened into near humor, "It was an evil roll."

"Then surely it was a necessary action." He stoically replied as he turned and went to fetch a broom and dust pan.

"Helena?"

"Yea, runt."

"Barbara keeps calling a name. At first I thought she was talking about the doctor, but I don't think so. It seems like she knows this guy."

"Who are we talking about?"

"I don't know."

"I mean what name is she calling out?"

"Oh… sorry. She keeps calling Dick. I thought she meant the doctor, but..."

Helena interrupts, "She's calling for Dick Grayson."

"Nightwing?"

"The one and only."

"It sounds like you don't like him."

"Miss Helena doesn't know him." Alfred added upon his return, "Master Grayson was her father's first protégé, the original Robin."

"So what was his meta-human power?"

"Good to know that you are keeping up with the reading that Barbara has given you."

"What Miss Helena is trying to relate is that he is human. He is also an superb fighter, a skilled acrobat, and a brilliant detective."

"We should call him."

"No can do. Nobody's heard from him in years."

"Then we should find him."

"That's not a good idea, they had a falling out that she refuses to talk about."

"For once I agree with Miss Helena, the young Master's whereabouts are unknown and he wants it that way."

As they continued to discuss the matter, none of them noticed a dark figure make it's way through the Clock Tower toward Barbara Gordon's room…

Silently, the door opened and the figure slid inside. With care, he removed his mask and sat on the bed.

Gently, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. In an almost whisper, he said her name, "Barbara."

The End

A/N: I don't know if I will continue this story, for now, it is concluded.