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Babs loved being Batgirl more than she loved almost anything else.
For someone who was deeply closeted in her civilian life, being Batgirl allowed Babs to be open and confident in her womanhood, aided in part by the mask that shielded her identity. If people didn’t know who she was, they couldn’t make assumptions about her, and that was how Babs liked it.
When Batman found out who she was, he was surprised, but not unsupportive, urging her to be honest with herself. To fight for what brought her joy. At first, Babs worried that Robin wouldn’t be happy when he found out she wasn’t cis, but he didn’t care one bit. He loved her. Nothing else mattered.
Though Babs had planned to come out to her dad, her plans were dashed when the Joker appeared at her door, gun in hand.
Babs might have survived the encounter with Gotham’s worst, but Batgirl met her end that night.
When the diagnosis came – paraplegia caused by damage to her spinal cord – Babs didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. She was lucky to be alive, but she’d lost a lot in the process.
Worst of all, she’d lost something she could never tell anyone about, for fear of further endangering herself or her father. Her time as Batgirl had to stay a secret, and it was killing her.
Her dad did his best to comfort her, but he didn’t know what to say. He held her hand tightly from where he was sitting by her bedside, blinking back tears, so he wouldn’t cry in front of her.
Babs wanted to cry too, but she was too exhausted to muster any tears.
Adjusting wasn’t easy.
Things that could have been simple before became difficult. Babs knew she was lucky – she had enough money to pay her hospital bills and to buy a modified wheelchair, which most people wouldn’t have been able to afford – but that didn’t change the fact that the world was not made with her or her needs in mind.
It was easy to grow stagnant. More and more days spent inside her apartment, unmoving and listless. Something had to change.
And something did.
Jim came to visit, lingering in the doorway as if he hadn’t come to visit a thousand times before. In moments like these, Babs realized how old her father had gotten. As Babs made him some coffee, Jim told her a meandering story about work.
“Are you doing alright?” Jim asked, as Babs passed him a cup.
Babs tried to turn her frown off. “I’m as good as I can be.”
Jim sighed. “You’re my son. I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying to me.”
(No, you don’t. I’ve been lying to you for years. You never noticed. Maybe you never wanted to notice.)
“What do you want me to say?”
Jim was getting a bit twitchy. Probably overdue for a cigarette. He knew Babs didn’t like it when he smoked in her apartment. Always set off her shitty smoke alarm. “I only want you to be honest with me.”
“There are some things I can’t tell you.”
“Son…”
“I’m not…” Babs cut herself off, hands clasped tightly in her lap, fingernails digging into the palm of her hand. “There’s nothing you can do, Daddy… please, don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t help it,” Jim said. “You’re my boy. Of course I’m worried about you.”
After a moment of quiet, Jim sipping at the coffee Babs made for him, Babs found her voice. “Daddy, would you still…” She closed her eyes, unable to meet her father’s eyes. “Would you still love me, if I wasn’t the person you… you thought I was?”
Jim furrowed his eyebrow. “What’s brought this on?”
“I’ve been… thinking about it. That’s all.”
Jim put down his coffee, leaning back in his chair. “Did you do something illegal? Something I’d have to arrest you for?”
“No,” Babs said, lying through her teeth. While vigilantism was technically a criminal offense, there was a grey area when it came to superheroes. Gotham PD cooperated with Batman and Robin on occasion. They used to work with Batgirl, too.
“You didn’t… get involved in anything? Make some bad choices? Need some help with getting out?”
Though Babs knew Jim had her best interests at heart, she was a little offended by the question. “Daddy…”
“Just covering all my bases,” Jim mumbled. “None of that?”
“I know better than that,” Babs said.
“Good, good…” Jim took a slow breath, before saying, all in one exhale, “Are you one of them homosexuals?”
Babs flinched at the phrasing. “Daddy!”
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Sorry, that came out wrong. You were always a little…” Jim trailed off, probably realizing that what he had been about to say sounded even worse. “I caught you going through your mom’s clothes and stuff when you were younger. You forgot to clean up after yourself. I always sort of wondered… if that meant something, or if you were just curious.”
Babs felt her stomach twisting into knots. If she was going to tell her dad, now seemed like a good moment. He seemed to be… trying to be understanding. Maybe… maybe she could help him to understand.
“I’m not gay,” Babs said. “I’m, uhh… bisexual.”
“That’s the one where you like both, right?” Jim said. “I don’t know if that was really a thing back in my day. Feels like you were either gay or you weren’t. Interesting, how things have changed…” He let out an awkward little laugh. “Anything else you wanna tell me?”
The first part of her coming out had gone over rather well… Babs was still nervous, but it seemed like Jim might take the rest of it better than she expected.
In spite of the courage she did her best to summon with a deep breath, her voice came out as a mumble. “That’s not… everything.” Now or never. “I’m a transgender woman.”
Jim took a moment to process everything his daughter had just said. “Okay. That's… not as surprising as I thought it would be. You were always so much like your mother…”
“You really don’t… you don’t mind?”
“I almost lost you once already,” Jim said, taking Babs’ hand in his. “I’m never going to do anything that would cause me to lose you for good. If this is who you are – if this is what you need – well, you’re my daughter, damnit, and I love you.”
Finally, father and daughter embraced.
Oracle made her debut not long after.
“You?” Cass tapped at the photograph Babs was showing her. They were looking at old photographs, so Cass could practice speaking. She’d only been able to speak for a few weeks, so progress was slow, but Babs was patient. “Batgirl?”
“That’s right. This picture was taken by a reporter on my debut mission,” Babs explained, looking fondly at the photograph. “I clipped it out of a newspaper. Call me sentimental, but… it’s nice to keep things to remind you of the past.”
Cass paused, picking up the picture and studying it closely, then holding it to her chest, shaking her head.
“You don’t have any old pictures?” Babs guessed. “Makes sense…”
Cass shook her head before reaching to flip open the photo album on the table in front of her. “More?”
Babs hesitated, which made Cass go still.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s… it’s alright. I don’t mind showing you these, but there’s something I need to explain to you first,” Babs said. “You know how you’re a girl and Robin is a boy?”
Cass nodded. They’d discussed a similar concept a few weeks ago, when Cass expressed confusion at the concept of gendered pronouns. The idea that some people were male and some were female wasn’t one Cass had really thought about before.
“I’m a woman, but when I was little – even when I was your age and a bit older – people thought I was a boy, and I didn’t tell anyone who I really was until… I was quite a bit older. So, in these old photographs, I’m going to look like a little boy, instead of a little girl. It’s still me, though. Does that make sense?”
When Cass nodded, Babs reached to open the photo album. Dad had given her these old photographs, so she could decide what to do with them, and Babs had kept them mostly out of sentimentality. There were even some pictures of her and her biological parents in here, and she didn’t have many of those, so they were even more special.
“You changed,” Cass said, looking at the photograph of a younger Babs wearing dungarees and rainboots, splashing in a puddle, her short hair drenched in rain water, sticking to her forehead and getting into her eyes. “Still you.”
Babs smiled. “It’s still me.”