Rain poured from the dark, thundering clouds overhead and onto the street below, almost as if the sky was weeping for Barbara. Even the heavens seemed to know tonight was not a cause for a celebration; it was a time to mourn.

As they made their way into the courthouse, Barbara blinked at the sight in front of her, wondering if they had made a wrong turn somewhere and walked into a cathedral by mistake. But if they had, James didn't seem to notice as he continued into the building, acting as if he knew where he was going. Meanwhile, Barbara followed behind, staring up at the rotunda above them with a mixture of awe and confusion. Awe because this was more like a Roman basilica with its towering cast-iron dome and colorful murals painted inside it. Confusion because this was more like a Roman basilica with its towering cast-iron dome and colorful murals painted inside it.

It made her question if the courthouse was built during the Italian Renaissance and somehow secretly moved across the ocean to Gotham. Because it was unlike any ol' courthouse she'd ever been in.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the black-and-white tile floor, Barbara angled her head to get a better view of the dome. From what she could see of the murals, they depicted different men and women throughout the years, as well as important events from Gotham's history. A Norwegian captain first setting foot on the land, the British eventually taking over the city, a major battle during the American Revolution, and some of the city's founding families constructing three bridges called the Gates of Gotham.

Since Barbara was not an art aficionado, none of this would have been particularly interesting if not for one specific portrait that caught her eye. It was of a man who bore a striking resemblance to Bruce, and if it weren't for the dark mustache or dull blue eyes, she would've thought it was him.

"Hey! Whatcha' standing around for?" Harleen came up from behind, drawing Barbara's attention away from the portrait's stony gaze. "The wedding's about to start! I just put the finishing touches on Red and—"

"Great," Barbara muttered. "Let's just get this over with."

"Don't cha just love my dress?" Harleen twirled her red and black sequined dress, the one she vowed she'd find.

"Uh, yeah?" Truth be told, Harleen did look a lot better with her hair parted down. And the black choker around her neck was actually pretty badass and not at all like a collar fitted over a dog. But now was not the time to start squealing over the latest fashion trends.

Fixing her eyes ahead on the muted white courtroom, Barbara rolled herself through the open doors. So far, only her dad and the judge were there even though she knew they had invited way more people than that. However, a small, cruel part of Barbara hoped no one would show up just to prove what a sham this wedding was. The other, more rational part of her hoped they wouldn't come for much different reasons.

"Where is everyone?" Harleen voiced Barbara's exact thoughts as they took their seats in the back. Because of course, this old place would only have its wheelchair accessible space in the back.

"Hopefully, not coming." Barbara folded her arms across her chest as Harleen locked her wheelchair in place.

But it seemed she spoke too soon. Almost immediately after she said that, guests began to pour in, making their way across the checkered tile floor and towards the row of chairs behind the wooden railing.

Watching as the guests took their seats, Barbara searched for the inevitable figure of Bruce Wayne. She hated that she recognized these overdressed people since the majority, if not all, were her father's friends. Oh, look, it was Gotham District Attorney, Harvey Dent. Oh, wow, could that be Dr. Thomas Elliot? And who would've thought the mayor would show up for the police commissioner's wedding?

However, with each passing face, she started to wonder if he might not be coming. She checked her watch and saw there were only about fifteen minutes left until the ceremony started. So then where the hell was he?

The minutes continued to tick by. Normally, Barbara couldn't care less if Bruce decided to grace them with his presence. But with everything hinging on his appearance, she had never wanted to see him more than at this moment.

From her peripheral vision, Barbara noticed Harleen move her handbag from the floor and into her lap. It wasn't anything to think of, much less notice. Yet, she couldn't help but feel something was up. That something was wrong.

Before she could figure out what that something was, the man she had been waiting for stepped inside. And there he was, with only a few minutes to spare, the one and only Bruce Wayne. If he noticed her, he gave no indication as he took his seat in the front row. Typical. Of course, he'd want to be the center of attention and if not, as close to it as possible.

With James taking his place in front of the judge's bench and the doors slamming shut to the side of her, Barbara could only wait for the inevitable. Clenching and unclenching her clammy hands, she could do nothing but wait.

The pair of carved doors swung open, and a hushed silence fell over the courtroom as an ethereal figure drifted inside. In the bright light, she resembled a specter with her white lace gown and startling pale skin. Though her face was hidden behind a veil, it did nothing to take away from Pamela's beauty.

Clutching a bouquet of lilies in her hands, Pamela slowly made her way down the aisle towards the judge's bench, her gown trailing behind her. The guests were in complete awe, unable to take their eyes off the elegant bride. But whether she didn't notice or didn't care, Pamela didn't spare a second glance at the entranced stares flung her way, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead instead. Forcing a wan smile to her face, Pamela looked like she was being led to her death rather than the altar.

James, on the other hand, didn't look as happy as Barbara imagined him to be either. As he took Pamela by the hand, he was slow and hesitant, nothing like how she expected a man head over heels in love to act.

Maybe he was just nervous. After all, it had been years since he last stood at the altar with her mom, and look at how that marriage turned out. Her dad didn't have the best track record when it came to weddings, so it made sense he would be anxious about this. Hell, who wouldn't be?

It made Barbara hate the woman even more if that was possible, knowing her dad was in love with someone who couldn't possibly ever return his affections. But at the same time, it made what she was about to do even harder, considering she was going to take her dad's last chance at happiness away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends," the judge announced from atop his bench. "We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of our police commissioner, James Gordon, and Pamela Isley in marriage."

As the judge droned on about the importance of marriage, Barbara shifted her gaze to the side and saw Bruce peering back at her. She cocked her eyebrow and jutted her chin out, the universal sign for asking him what his deal was. His eyes flickered to the couple in front like one of those hanging Kit Cat wall clocks, minus the charming smile. Well, guess that was her cue then. Folding her hands over her lap, Barbara merely nodded and sat back. She was going to do it on her terms, not his. Not anymore.

And not yet.

"Do you Pamela, take James, to be your lawfully wedded husband, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?" The judge glanced down at Pamela.

"I do." Pamela squeezed the bouquet closer to her chest.

Not yet.

"And do you, James, take Pamela, to be your lawfully wedded wife, promising to love and cherish, through joy and sorrow, sickness and health, and whatever challenges you may face, for as long as you both shall live?"

Not yet.

"I..." James paused and glanced to the side, meeting Barbara's eager eye.

Why was he stalling? He wasn't seriously thinking about saying no... Was he? She pursed her lips and continued to ignore Bruce's stare, something that was difficult to do when he was practically burning a hole through her skull.

Meanwhile, Pamela was gazing at her soon-to-be husband with such fiery intensity, Barbara swore she saw beads of sweat forming on her dad's forehead.

"I... I don't," James finished with a sigh, earning a collective gasp from around the courtroom, Barbara's the loudest of them all. Even the usually calm and collected Bruce Wayne looked like he could hardly believe what he was seeing, leaning so far forward out of his chair Barbara thought he might actually fall out of it.

"Excuse me, what?" Pamela demanded, flipping her veil back.

"I'm sorry, Pam. It's not that I don't want to marry you. I do. But this entire time, I've been trying to convince myself to go through with it because it's what you wanted." His arms fell to his sides as he released her hand. "And I didn't want to lose you."

"When you came into my life, I could hardly believe it. And then when Barbara became paralyzed, I thought for sure you would leave. I mean, I would've understood—"

Pamela's eyes narrowed into slits. "Quit beating around the bush and just say what you want to say."

He nodded, a dry, humorless laugh escaping from his throat. "I'm the one who's pushing fifty here and should be rushing this thing, not you. This is all so soon, and I don't want to screw this up again. You're a wonderful woman and... It wouldn't be fair to you."

"James... Darling..." She snatched his hand back up. "Don't do this. You know I love you."

"Pamela, that's not what I'm—Ow!" James tried wrenching his hand out of her grasp to no avail. Her hand was wrapped around his wrist like a deadly vine, slowly cutting off his blood flow with each passing second.

"You're just having a bit of cold feet." Though her smile was as sweet as honey, her voice dripped with venom. "It's nothing we can't talk through."

Now.

"Hey, you filthy parasite!" Barbara unlocked her wheelchair and rolled forward before Harleen could do anything. And it wasn't like she would; she looked just as stunned as everyone else. "Get your hands off my dad!"

"Barbara!" Pamela's cheek twitched as she glowered at her. "What are you doing? Go sit down—"

"Jason Woodrue. John Irving." Barbara glided down the aisle with half-measured turns. She wanted each name she said to be heard loud and clear. "Paul Jones. William Gray. Charles Graham. Isaac Irwin. Those names ring a bell, Pamela?"

"No." Pamela gritted her teeth. "Why would they?"

"Well, they should." Barbara came to an abrupt stop only feet away from the bench. "They were all your past husbands. All the ones you killed."

"Barbara, what is the meaning of this?" James was red with what Barbara guessed was either humiliation or anger. Whatever it was, he looked on the verge of a heart attack. "Go back to your seat! This doesn't concern you!"

Barbara shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face. "Sorry, Dad, but you're wrong. It's always concerned me."

"Harleen!" Pamela's gaze flitted to the back of the room in search of the blonde. "Get over here!"

"Then maybe you recognize this name." The corner of Barbara's lip tugged up into a grin as she said, "Thomas Wayne."

"That's it!" Pamela tossed her bouquet to the floor and stormed forward. "Barbara Gordon, you have been nothing but a thorn in my side—" She instantly froze when her eyes landed on the object in Barbara's hand. "Barbara," she gulped. "What are you doing with that?"

From the side of her, a chair creaked as someone rushed to their feet. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to guess who that might be.

"Barbara..." Bruce held out a quivering hand to her. "Put that down."

Barbara barely glanced at him as she gripped the stake even tighter. It was a strange feeling, knowing these might be her last moments on Earth. But if it meant seeing Pamela and Bruce looking like they were about to piss themselves, then she'd gladly take it.

No, she would not be able to kill them, much less hurt them. Their more than able-bodies would overpower her own broken one in an instant. But this—this she could do.

Raising the stake even higher, Barbara met Pamela's eyes one last time and smirked. "It's time to come out."

"BARBARA!"

"NO!"

Before either of them could move, she drove the stake into her hand and dragged it across her palm.

A moment of silence followed, everyone frozen in place as they waited for something to happen. No sooner had the blood leaked from the wound, trickling down her hand and over her arm, did the room erupt into chaos.