WHAT IF: Barbara Gordon

Barbara Gordon's eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she registered was the unfamiliar ceiling above her, a far cry from the high-tech gloom of the Batcave or her own hideout. A plain ceiling fan hummed softly above her, stirring the air in a quiet rhythm. She shifted, a jolt of pain and lingering nausea reminding her of what had happened.

Poison. Attack. Ninjas.

The last thing she remembered was staggering through the alleys, mind reeling from the toxin. She didn't even have time to activate her emergency comms before she lost consciousness. Now, she was lying on what felt like a firm but comfortable couch, a light blanket covering her and her suit still intact—mask and all.

Whoever had brought her here had respected her identity.

Sitting up slowly, Barbara looked around, taking in the humble apartment. It was neat, modestly decorated, with a few books stacked on the coffee table. She glanced toward the doorway where a tall, dark-haired man arrived from the kitchen.

Aaron Reigner.

This was a world where it was Barbara Gordon and not Cassandra Cain that went on the mission against the League. Where it was Barbara who was overwhelmed and found by Aaron Reigner.

Still a Batgirl but different. Way different.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said, relief breaking over his face. “You had me worried there for a minute.”

Barbara blinked, piecing together the details. “How… how long have I been out?”

“A whole day now,” Aaron replied. “I think it was some kind of poison?”

Batgirl hid her wide eyes under her cowl and clicked her tongue “A day?” She instinctively reached for her comms, only to find they were busted, the casing cracked and completely nonfunctional.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Batgirl looked Aaron over, sizing him up. He was the same height as her and looked strong, and he had a certain firmness in his face that made her feel protected. She gave a small nod. “No one knows I’m here, right?"

"No one."

"No family? Roomates?"

"None at all."

"Not a soul then," Batgirl said.

“Not a soul,” he assured her, crossing his arms. “It’s just me. I figured you’d rather keep it that way.”

Barbara let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Good. Thank you,” she said, relieved. This guy wasn’t just a good Samaritan—he understood Gotham’s code, the one that vigilantes like her depended on to keep a low profile. And he’d kept her mask on, her identity intact. That told her a lot.

“My name’s Aaron Reigner, by the way,” he offered, and she gave a brief nod, storing the name away.

“Batgirl,” she said, just a hint of amusement in her voice. “You already knew that, though.”

Aaron gave her a faint smile. “So… what’s the plan, Batgirl?”

Barbara’s mind worked quickly. If it had really been a day, the League of Shadows could still be lurking, combing the city for her. She didn’t have the sheer physical skill of Cassandra or Dick, nor the raw power of Bruce or Jason. Her strength was her strategy, her agility, and knowing when and how to slip away before things escalated. But right now, she couldn’t even manage that without gear, let alone without backup.

“If I leave, they’ll spot me,” Batgirl said finally. “I… need a few things, if you’re up for a favor.”

Aaron nodded without a second of hesitation. “Name it.”

“Alright,” she said, her tone shifting into mission mode. “I need medicine—something to help with the nausea, and some chemicals and medicine for an antidote. I also need some specific tech stuff—wiring, a soldering iron, anything small I can use to fix my comms and patch up my suit. I’ll give you a list.”

He nodded, already grabbing a notebook from the coffee table. “Got it.”

Batgirl rattled off her needs from the ingredients of the antidote to the tech materials and Aaron jotted it down. He was a fast writer. Definitely an office worker, Barbara deeuced.

When she finished, he glanced up at her. “Anything else?”

“That should cover it.”

Aaron slipped his notebook into his pocket. “I’ll be back soon. But, ah, will anyone attack us while you're here?"

“Trouble’s a given in my line of work. But hopefully not."

"If a fight happens, please don't throw my couch or TV."

Barbara allowed herself a small smile. "I’ll do my best.”

Aaron grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, leaving her alone with the quiet hum of the fan. For a moment, she just sat there, the relief settling in.

'Aaron Reigner...'

A good-looking guy with composure and a sense of justice. Not many in Gotham could claim to have that.

She wasn’t completely out of the woods yet, but she could see a way out. And with any luck, Aaron would be back before she had to handle any League ninjas on her own.