If you were to ask someone what is the most tragic thing that could befall a person, you would usually get the same answers. A loved one dying unexpectedly. Getting cancer or some other terminal illness. But what most people would not say is the death of a dream.

Unlike the other two, watching as your dream slowly dies is a different sort of grief-a different sort of pain. And unless you've personally experienced it, it is almost indescribable. It is a bitter, suffocating feeling that is equivalent to being knifed in the chest.

Or in Barbara Gordon's case, the sudden impact of thousands of pounds of steel pressed against her tiny body.

But that was a story for another time, one already told hundreds of miles away back in Chicago. This story began with a long, winding road towards Barbara's final destination, a destination where people—where dreams—went to wither and die. There was no doubt Barbara knew this while on that endless car ride over. The sullen look in her eye made her resemble a prisoner headed for the gallows.

Barbara pressed her cheek against the cool pane of glass and sighed, watching as the vast stretch of pine trees passed by. She hadn't seen a building for the past hour, only the swampy wasteland that was the Pine Barrens. The next time she saw signs of civilization, it would mean she was entering the city limits—that she was closer to her destination than she hoped to be. With each tree the car passed, the knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she was sure it was from her insides being all tangled up.

"Barbara," a soft voice called out next to her. "Are you still asleep? We're almost there, honey."

She shut her eyes and slowed her breathing, hoping her dad would think she actually was. Oh, how she longed for sleep, but the peace she had sought after had eluded her since leaving Chicago. That was nearly twelve hours ago.

But how could she sleep right now with everything weighing on her mind? She had a better chance of walking again.

A grimace crossed her lips at the thought. She couldn't start using dark humor as a coping mechanism. Only cynics did that and now was not the time to be cynical. Not when the pain was still raw. She had to keep hope alive... somehow.

But what light was there to search for in a city filled with nothing but darkness?

She opened her eyes to stare at the ugly, wet sight in front of her. She had read somewhere that the Pine Barrens were referred to as such because of the acidic and nutrient-poor soil despite the name.

Reading. That seemed to be all she did nowadays. All she could do after the accident.

Quickly blinking back the tears brimming in her eyes, Barbara tried to think about something else. Something that didn't involve the sound of bones crunching against metal, and the searing pain that followed. Something that was far more pleasant and wouldn't make her lip tremble.

Her father.

The last time she had seen him was at the hospital when he came to visit her. It hadn't been that long ago between then and now, but in her mind, it felt like a whole other lifetime ago. In a way, it was.

That Barbara Gordon, the one who could walk, would've been talking non-stop with her dad and singing along to her favorite tunes.

But this Barbara Gordon had been stuck in a car for the past twelve hours without exchanging more than a few words with him.

Although she had hoped things would go better between them, she wasn't surprised they had turned out this way. Her dad had a knack for acting like things were normal when they so obviously weren't. Even when she came to visit, he would act like everything was a-okay.

Everyone in Gotham did.

Gotham. A city she thought she left behind for good. But in the cruelest twist of fate, she was now stuck here for probably the rest of her life.

As if on cue, water droplets started to fall on the glass as the first glimpse of the city's skyline came into view. Pushing her glasses up over the bridge of her nose, Barbara watched as streaks of lightning flashed above the dark outline of the city. What little sunlight penetrated through the overcast sky was dim. Despite the early hour, it already looked like night had settled over Gotham and Barbara had to double-check her watch to make sure it was, in fact, still the afternoon.

She turned away from the window, not wanting to dwell on the depressing sight in front of her any more than she had to. She would have plenty of time to do that once she got out of this car.

"Oh, good. You're up." James smiled down at her. "We're almost there."

Barbara rolled her eyes internally. Duh. She knew they were as much as she wished that wasn't the case. But if wishes were real, then she would still be a police officer instead of in a wheelchair.

James must've sensed her unease since he flipped on the radio dial and said, "Well, now that we're in the city limits, what about some tunes?"

"In a case that continues to boggle the Gotham City Police Department, a third Wayne Enterprises employee has disappeared." The reporter's voice crackled through the speakers.

Barbara was about to turn back around and force herself to sleep when the chilling news headline made her sit up straighter.

"Kirk Langstrom, who recently merged his pharmaceutical company with Wayne Medical, went missing yesterday evening. He was last seen—"

"Huh?" Barbara snapped her head to the side as the soft, mellow beat of The Eagles started playing. "Why did you change it?"

"If I wanted to hear nothing but bad news, I'd just go back to work." He chuckled at his own joke, one Barbara didn't even bother to crack a smile at. "Anyway, I don't need to be reminded about this damn case. No one seems able to crack it, not even our best detectives."

Barbara raised a curious eyebrow, sensing her dad's frustration. "Well, do you have any leads yet? Any suspects?"

He grew silent as they entered what Barbara thought was a desolate underpass. But while the blue fluorescent bulbs flickered above them, threatening to go out at any second and leave them in complete darkness, she could make out the vague outlines of haphazard tents and drifters.

"Just one," he finally answered in a hushed voice.

Before Barbara could ask what he meant, he turned to her with a stern look on his face. "Don't worry about it, Barbara. The media is just exaggerating, as usual. Saying men should be careful at night. It's probably some sort of dispute with a rival business, and they're trying to send a message."

Barbara crossed her arms and looked out the window at the grimy, graffitied walls around her. "To who? Bruce Wayne?"

James frowned at her but did not argue otherwise. "So... um..." he trailed off as if he were searching for the right words to continue. "There's a surprise waiting for you at home."

She blinked. "A surprise? Should I be worried?"

A wan smile crossed James's mouth as they drove out of the underpass and back into the murky light. "No. At least I hope not."

Ironically, his answer just made her even more worried.

Several guesses ran through her mind as to what this surprise might be. A dog? A new house? A party? Oh, how she hoped to God it was not a party. The last thing she needed right now was a bunch of strangers jumping out at her as she rolled through the door.

But as they came into view of the vacant driveway, Barbara realized the surprise was neither a new house nor a party. The house was the same drab one she used to live in, down to its same drab brick walls. Nothing had changed.

Anxious to get out, she opened the door and took her first breath of the surrounding air. Cold and wet, just like she remembered. A shiver ran across her spine, making her wrap her arms around herself to preserve the fleeting warmth.

As she waited for her dad to take out the wheelchair, Barbara peered out at the cigarette butts and muddy newspapers littering the street. She wouldn't be surprised if she saw a rat come scurrying out of the gutter.

"Looks like nothing has changed," she said, wrapping her arms around her dad's neck as he hoisted her up. Even though he was up in years, James didn't lack the strength to lift her onto her chair. Barbara figured being the police commissioner must've kept him pretty active then, considering most middle-aged men would be huffing and puffing by now.

James pushed his glasses up and nodded. "It's gotten even worse lately. Not just in sanitation, but in crime too. The crime rate's skyrocketed in the past year."

At the mention of the word "crime," Barbara flicked her gaze away from the filth. "Crime? You mean like the missing Wayne employees—"

The look in her dad's eye warned her now was not the time.

Shutting her mouth, Barbara stared at the building in front of her. What exactly was waiting for her inside?

A part of her didn't want to know.

"You can go on in. I'll get the luggage," James called from behind the car.

"Okay." She rolled towards the front door, her wheels squelching across the slick pavement. Even its dark wood had stayed the same, albeit more chipped.

But as the door slowly revealed, she found some things had indeed changed.

Greeted by the rich, fragrant scent of earth and leaves, Barbara thought she had accidentally wandered into a forest for a second. The inside looked nothing like she remembered. Once cozy and simple, it now resembled more of a vast, untamed jungle with all the potted roses and orchids and other flowers Barbara could not possibly name. Plants of all shapes and sizes were stacked on the shelves and in every nook and cranny of the room, invading any space that laid empty.

"What the..." Barbara gawked at the ivy hanging down like a leafy curtain from the ceiling.

"James, is that you?" A woman in a bright green sundress appeared in the living room. "Oh, hello. You must be Barbara. Your father's told me so much about you." Her red lips curled into a charming smile.

Barbara could only blink in disbelief at the sight in front of her. This woman had to be the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Curled to perfection with not a strand out of place, her dark hair brought the paleness of her face out even more. Compared to Barbara's pumpkin-orange hair, hers had a luscious red sheen to it, like that of a rose. Her skin appeared as if it were made of porcelain, with no blemish or wrinkle to mar its creamy white complexion. Yet, none of this rivaled her most striking feature of all, her eyes. Burning a bright green, almost like a fire, her piercing stare sent an involuntary shudder through Barbara.

Nodding, Barbara swallowed the painful lump in her throat. "Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Pamela. Pamela Isley." She stuck out her hand with the utmost grace. As Barbara reached out to shake it, she suddenly froze when she saw the diamond ring wrapped around her finger.

"Well, I see you met Pamela." James stood in the doorway with the luggage and duffel bag in both hands.

"Oh, here. Let me help you." Pamela took the bag from him without so much as a groan. Not that it was heavy or anything, but Pamela looked so dainty that Barbara imagined she didn't even like carrying her own purse.

"Thank you." The way James smiled at her made Barbara want to gag. "Is that a roast I smell?"

"No, silly. I put a rack of ribs in the oven." Pamela's giggle reminded Barbara of how a schoolgirl would laugh in front of her crush, fake and irritating.

"Well, it's a good thing we didn't eat before." James turned to his daughter as if suddenly remembering she was there. "You still want your old bedroom, right?"

"No!" The chair jerked forward as she threw her hands up. "I mean, what is going on? Who is she?"

She might wear glasses, but Barbara wasn't blind. She had a strong feeling who Pamela was, even if she couldn't bear to admit it.

"Oh, James." Pamela pursed her plump lips into a frown. "You didn't tell her about us?"

"Us?" Barbara furrowed her brows at the two of them, unable to deny the sickening reality of the situation any longer. "You mean..."

"Barbara," James whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I thought there was just too much going on, and it was never the right time. But... Pamela and I are engaged."

Engaged. The word was like a punch to the gut and kick to the heart. The knot that had long been tightening in her stomach finally reached its limit, and for a second, she thought she was going to need to rush to the bathroom. "What?"

James sighed. "I know this must come as a surprise, but-"

"A surprise?" Barbara wanted to laugh. "How long have you known her?"

"We met during the summer." Pamela took James's hand with a wistful smile. "I can still recall the night. I had just moved back to Gotham, and I was honestly nervous since I didn't know anyone." She covered her mouth as she laughed. "But then, I met you and all my nerves went away. You remember, James?"

"How could I forget? When you stepped into the room, everyone's head turned. You were wearing such a beautiful green dress that matched your eyes. I thought to myself, she's the most elegant woman I've ever seen." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Barbara had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. They had only met a few months ago, and they were already engaged? What the hell? Since when was her father, police commissioner of the entire city, that stupid?

And just what the hell was this woman-this intruder doing here? With her potted plants and perfect skin?

Nothing against her dad, but James was not exactly fit to be on the next cover of GQ. He wasn't ugly, but someone like Pamela, who was fit to be a model, was definitely out of his league. And definitely out of his age range.

So then what was she doing here? Shouldn't she be with someone like-like Bruce effing Wayne?

No, something was up. But what exactly? Barbara wasn't sure... yet.

Unable to watch the two of them make googly eyes at each other any longer, she turned her chair around and faked a yawn. "Um, I'm going to my room. I'm tired and I didn't really sleep on the ride over here."

"Oh, all right." James followed after her with the luggage. To Barbara's dismay, so did Pamela. So much for this being the opportunity to spend some quality time with her dad and bond.

The thought angered Barbara more than she expected. This was supposed to be a journey she and her dad would take together, another chance to reconcile things left unsaid.

But now, with Pamela in the picture, there was zero chance of that happening.

"I hope you like your new room. I redecorated it." Pamela beamed as she strode past Barbara and into the bedroom. Much like the living room, the bedroom was filled with an array of plants stacked against the walls on shelves and atop the windowsill. There were even pots that dangled from the ceiling, soaking in whatever sunlight poured in from the nearby window. But unlike the living room, the plants on the wall were fed the pink UV light from a lamp above.

"It looks so much better, don't you think?" Pamela's eyes gleamed as she watched Barbara's gaze dart over the room.

Barbara felt her jaw clench, seeing what was once her room now turned into a greenhouse. "Sure."

"Pamela did such a great job. This place looks so much livelier." James grinned after putting the luggage to the side. It was as if he forgot it had been her and her mom who had decorated this room together. "Dinner will be ready soon, but in the meantime, try getting some sleep."

As the couple turned to leave, James wrapped his arm around Pamela's slender waist and pulled her close. It was a good thing their back was towards her or else they would've seen the daggers she had been glaring at them.

Damn it! How could her dad do this to her again? Why did he always have to let some woman come between his family and ruin things? This was supposed to be just the two of them, and once again, he went and screwed it up.

Nothing ever changed.

Now left with nothing but these overgrown plants, Barbara could only watch as a lone fly buzzed around the room. As it moved towards the plants on the wall, attracted to the sweet-smelling nectar, it made the fatal mistake of landing on a Venus flytrap. In a blink of an eye, its jaws snapped shut, and the fly was no more.