Taking the seat quietly, the blonde Batgirl sat, absently playing with the ends of her hair, twisting the strands in her fingers, trying to work out where, if, she wanted to start.
After a considered silence, she let out a slow sigh, let go of the twisted curl, dropped her hands into her lap, and raised her eyes to the camera, the cowl still covering her face.
“I am Batgirl. But not the first one. Like, the third, or fourth, or fifth one, depending on who you ask. No one remembers it, and, as much as I give them hell for it, I don’t think it ever really counted, I was Robin, for a little bit. Seventy-two days, actually.”
Lowering her head, shoulders slumping slightly.
“Not that I was counting, or anything…”
Pulling her cape in around herself, like a blanket, pulling her feet up onto the seat, her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on them, frowning visibly, even with the cowl.
“And then I got fired. It wasn’t the first time I got fired. I used to get fired a lot. But going back to nobody Spoiler after being part of something, even when… I know I really wasn’t part of it…”
She trails off, sharply sniffling, clearing her throat and turning her head.
“....I died. I did something stupid after losing the Robin mantle, it was all my fault, and… I died. It’s pretty simple. But that’s not considered a real death, because I wasn’t in the grave. I wasn’t buried…. My heart stopped. I don’t care what anyone says. That’s dead.”
Sniffling again, it seemed like now that she had started, it was all going to be hard to reign herself back in. Resting her forehead on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs, she continued after a considered pause, as if working out what she wanted to say.
"Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too."
“When we were told my dad died? I kept telling everyone I was happy about it. That it was good he was dead. But it wasn’t. It just meant he could never be good. I just wanted to know why he was the way he was, and no one had answers for me because they all thought I was a part of another one of his sick games again. And then when I found out he wasn't dead? And the one behind framing me for murder, and killing people I knew, and just…. Being a general a**hole? I was glad he wasn’t dead, for a split second. Just one second. Then he put me in a coma with a dream spore, trying to kill me, yet again, and exposing me being Batgirl to mom by extension.”
Letting out a slow breath, she pulled the cape around her tighter, stifling a hiccup, and wiping her damp cheeks.
“It just makes me realise that I did make the right choice in giving up my daughter… I would have been a terrible mother. I can barely keep myself alive, let alone another human. I just hope she's happy, loved and healthy…”
She lowers her voice to a whisper, the tears welling up to the point of uncontainability.
“...I think about her every day…”
For several minutes, Batgirl sits, hugging her legs, using the weight of the cape as some form of comfort, before gathering herself, unfolding herself, straightening up, shoulders back, pushing her hair back over her shoulder, and clearing her throat.
“.... I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have this… the job, the mantles. But I have hope. And that's a start, right?”
Offering a watery smile, she holds her hands together in her lap, hanging her head slightly, before getting to her feet.
“... I think I’m gonna stick with keeping things bottled up, if it's all the same to you…. You don’t have enough tape for all my issues…”