Barbara's First Steps Back Into the Fight"
THE TRAINING ROOM — DAY ONE
The Batcave's training wing echoed with quiet mechanical hums as the floor adjusted its resistance settings. Bruce had the medical gear ready, while Dick, Tim, Steph, and Cass stood along the upper railing to watch.
Barbara entered slowly, wearing a simple athletic outfit — no cape, no suit, no pressure.
She took a deep breath.
"I can't believe I'm standing here again," she whispered. "Not in the chair. Not watching from a screen."
Damian stepped beside her, arms crossed.
"You won't be perfect today. Or tomorrow. Don't expect miracles. Expect effort."
Barbara smiled at him.
"You're starting to sound like Bruce."
"I accept the compliment."
Nightwing laughed from above.
"Oh, this is going to be fun."
BARBARA'S FIRST TEST
Bruce clipped a heart-rate monitor onto her wrist.
"Walk five meters. Stop. Rest. Then return. If anything feels wrong — we stop immediately."
Barbara nodded and stepped forward.
Her steps were shaky, her body underdeveloped after years of disuse.
But she walked.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Damian watched her posture carefully.
"Straighten your back. Left leg is favoring the right. Adjust your weight."
She corrected it instantly — years of muscle memory returning even through weakness.
She reached the five-meter mark.
Everyone applauded quietly.
Barbara wiped a tear away.
"I never thought I'd hear footsteps I made myself again."
THE BAT-FAMILY'S REACTION
Steph leaned over the railing, whispering loudly:
"She's already walking better than I did when I sprained my ankle."
Tim elbowed her.
"Not the time."
Cass simply smiled — her version of cheering.
Nightwing shouted down,
"Babs, you look incredible!"
Barbara laughed.
"Give me a week and I'll be racing you."
"Deal!"
DAMIAN TAKES OVER — THE REAL TRAINING BEGINS
Bruce stepped aside.
"Damian. She trusts you. Guide her."
Damian nodded and moved in front of Barbara.
"Your legs are functional, but weak. Your stamina is nonexistent. The Senzu Bean healed you, but didn't give your muscles back."
Barbara nodded.
"I know."
"So we begin with breathing. Focus. Concentration."
Dick whispered,
"Oh no. He's going full assassin instructor."
Damian ignored him.
THE BREATHING LESSON
Damian demonstrated a slow, controlled pattern.
"Inhale through the nose for four seconds. Hold for two. Release slowly. Again."
Barbara matched him.
Her breaths steadied.
Her trembling legs calmed.
"Good," Damian said. "Now posture training."
He gently shifted her shoulders, adjusted her stance.
"Your center of gravity needs retraining. You're leaning forward because your mind expects the wheelchair. You don't need it now."
Barbara swallowed.
That was the moment it truly hit her.
"I… really don't."
FIRST LIGHT SPARRING
Bruce stepped in.
"Only hand taps. No strikes. No throws."
Barbara raised her hands.
Damian nodded.
"Begin."
Barbara jabbed slowly.
Damian dodged with minimal motion.
"Faster."
She tried again.
Her form wasn't perfect, but the fire was back — the spark she once had as Batgirl.
Damian tapped her wrist lightly.
"Guard up. Don't drop your left."
She corrected it.
Another tap.
"Better."
Dick whispered proudly,
"She's getting it back already."
BARBARA COLLAPSES — BUT IN A GOOD WAY
After ten minutes, Barbara's legs gave out.
Damian caught her before she hit the floor.
"No shame in it," he said. "Your body isn't ready for extended use yet. You did excellent."
Barbara breathed heavily, smiling despite the exhaustion.
"I… I'm really doing this again."
Bruce knelt beside her.
"You are. And we'll be with you every step."
DAMIAN MAKES A PRIVATE PROMISE
As the others helped Barbara rest, Damian stepped away for a moment and looked at the training floor.
(If anyone tries to hurt Barbara again…
if anyone tries to take what she just regained…
they will not survive.)
He clenched his fist.
This time, the Bat-Family wouldn't just fight crime.
They'd protect each other — with him among them.
Gotham Shadows: The First Patrol"
THE ROOFTOP — NIGHT
Gotham was quiet.
Too quiet.
Damian stood on the clocktower's ledge, hood up, mask glowing faintly in the dark.
Beside him, Nightwing twirled his escrima sticks casually.
Cass crouched at the edge like a silent cat, perfectly still.
Nightwing grinned.
"Alright, little brother. First official patrol with us. Try to keep up."
Damian scowled.
"I'm faster than you."
Cass nodded in agreement.
Nightwing blinked.
"Wait — Cass, seriously?"
Cass: thumbs up.
Nightwing:
"…I hate both of you."
THE PATROL BEGINS
They swung across rooftops — Nightwing moving with acrobatics, Cass with eerie silence, and Damian with blazing speed enhanced by his breathing technique.
Damian landed first on a rooftop.
Nightwing dropped beside him.
"Okay, show-off."
Cass landed without sound right behind him.
"You two need to learn how to land properly," Damian said.
Nightwing shot him a look.
"I've been doing this since before you were born."
"And yet I landed first."
Cass snorted softly — her version of laughing.
THE FIRST CALL
Nightwing's comm pinged.
"Nightwing, report."
It was Bruce.
Nightwing answered.
"Bird squad is good. No trouble yet."
Bruce's voice lowered.
"Be careful. The Court of Owls is quiet… too quiet. They haven't retaliated since Damian eliminated the Talons last night."
Damian's hand drifted to his sword instinctively.
Bruce continued:
"They will adapt. They always do."
The transmission cut.
Nightwing sighed.
"Great. Nothing like a cryptic warning from our dear old dad."
UNEXPECTED TROUBLE — THE BLACK MASK GANG
Cass suddenly raised her hand.
She felt movement.
Damian sensed it too — the heat of bodies below, gathering fast.
Nightwing snapped to attention.
"What is it?"
Cass pointed down to a warehouse lot.
Damian narrowed his eyes.
"Black Mask's men. Ten of them. No — twelve."
Nightwing blinked.
"You counted that fast?"
"I smelled the gun oil."
Nightwing threw his hands up.
"Of course you did."
Cass tapped Damian's shoulder: go.
The three dropped down silently.
THE FIGHT — A PERFECT TEST OF TEAMWORK
Two guards walked the perimeter.
They didn't even see Cass move.
She disabled both — no sound, no warning, just precise strikes and pressure points.
Nightwing vaulted off a crate, knocking out three more with spinning kicks.
Damian walked straight toward the main group.
"Kids shouldn't play hero!" one of the thugs shouted, raising his rifle.
Damian smirked.
"I'm not playing."
He vanished.
A burst of flame erupted — not enough to burn, but enough to blind and confuse.
Nightwing shouted,
"HEY! No fire inside the warehouse!"
Damian:
"It's barely a spark."
Nightwing:
"You lit a forklift on fire!"
"It was old."
Cass dragged the unconscious men away with a sigh like she dealt with children.
THE FINAL ENCOUNTER — SOMETHING FEELS OFF
As they finished taking down the last of the gang, Damian froze.
"Wait."
He sniffed the air.
Not gunpowder.
Not smoke.
Cold.
Ancient.
Wrong.
Nightwing immediately went serious.
"Damian?"
Cass stepped beside him, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Damian whispered,
"…a Talon was here."
Nightwing stiffened.
"Alive?"
"No. Dead. Weeks ago. This warehouse was a nest."
Cass's expression darkened.
Nightwing tapped his comm.
"Batman, we need a forensics team here."
Bruce answered instantly.
"Stay put. I'm on my way."
Damian looked up at the rafters.
In the shadows was a symbol — carved into the metal.
Not the Court's usual insignia.
This one was different.
Older.
Darker.
Damian muttered:
"This wasn't just a Talon…
This was something before the Court."
Nightwing swallowed.
"Fantastic. The Court had grandparents."
Cass glared at the marking, recognizing the malice in it.
Damian's eyes hardened.
"They're studying me. Preparing. Planning."
Nightwing stepped between him and the symbol.
"Then they'll have to go through us."
THE TRIO LEAVES THE SCENE
As they waited for Batman, Damian stood quietly, arms folded.
Nightwing placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You did good tonight."
Damian didn't look at him.
"I don't need praise."
"Good," Nightwing said with a grin. "Because I wasn't praising you. I was praising Cass."
Cass gave a smug smile.
Damian rolled his eyes.
"You two are insufferable."
Nightwing slung an arm over both of them.
"Welcome to the team, little brother."
Damian didn't say it…
but he didn't push Nightwing away, either.