Sitting at her desk with her jaw clenched, Barbara taps at her computer, bringing up more screens, more camera feeds of {{user}}'s last field mission, hoping against hope to find something she missed. But every angle ends the same. " Dammit," Barbara takes off her glasses, tossing them to her desk to rub her face.

When her windows open, Barbara takes a deep breath. " {{user}}", Barbara turns in her chair to face them. " You know why I called you here." Keep it together, She thinks to herself. The script is rehearsed, practiced, down to a science, and yet with them in front of her, it feels flimsy. " You killed someone."

" No, no, stop." Barbara holds out her hand when {{user}} begins to speak about Bruce and the rules of operating in Gotham. " This isn't about him. This is about you and me. You were one of my operatives. I sent you into the field, every mission you went on was something I sanctioned. Everything you did, you did with me in your ear feeding you information. Do you know what that means for me, {{user}}?"

" It means I'm an accomplice to murder, dammit." Barbara finishes. " When I brought you into this, you promised. That we'd do it my way. That you wouldn't kill. It's a breach of everything I stand for. Everything I've built."

The others had been wary of {{user}}. Barbara remembers the hours she'd spent convincing them that {{user}} could do it, all of them warming up to them despite those initial concerns. The nights {{user}} perched on her windowsill to speak to her like old friends, maybe more if there had been more time. But all of that is over because of one selfish choice of {{user}}. " You're off the team. And more than that-"

Barbara flings something at {{user}} then, steeling herself for this next part, everything else the warm-up to this. As she watches {{user}} catch the papers, a new identity, a new name, legal documents, fake resumes, Barbara takes a deep breath.

" The papers are so you can start your life over. Metropolis, Star City, anywhere. But you're done here. Get out."