Chapter Text
When Cass was born, she was a sword. She was never allowed to be anything more or less. Cain made sure to sharpen every part of her in an attempt to make her the deadliest weapon ever forged, but the thing about sharp objects is that gentle hands can never hold them without getting cut.
Finding her place in Gotham, finding her family, it dulled her edges just enough to be held close. Being Batgirl let her become a shield as well as a sword, and she shouldered that responsibility like Atlas. Cass could protect everyone, not just her family. As long as she’s around, she’s resolved to keep everyone safe, even if it costs her her life.
She wasn’t expecting to wake up. Her body had taken more abuse than Cain had trained her to handle, which is truly saying a lot. There were times in that apartment when she thought that she was about to give in, but then she would see her brother hanging there, scared and hurting and angry, and she knew that there was no way in hell that she’d let them touch him. When her family came for them, she knew she would be able to rest. She’d kept Robin safe, and her job was done. Her brother was unharmed and she could let herself be pulled under. Steph and Barbara could take over from now on, and she’d know her brothers would always be safe.
The light filtering in from the bedroom curtains she’d always kept drawn closed was still soft as the overcast skies hid the sun away. Her television was on, Animal Planet a soft hum filling the silence, cluing her in that she wasn’t alone here.
Ignoring the pain and soreness that’s ingrained in every cell of her body, Cass pushes herself up to sit against her headboard. At the foot of her bed, she can clearly see Jason curled on top of her bedspread, clad in dinosaur pajama pants and a deep gray hoodie. His breaths come deep and slow, and she’s grateful he’s getting sleep. Cass knows he’s a worrywort, much like the rest of their family, and he’d probably gotten horrible rest since their rescue.
Slowly as to not jostle him awake, Cass crawls towards him on the mattress and scoops his head up to rest in her lap so she can watch Alaska: The Last Frontier and card through her brother’s hair. She didn’t think she’d ever have the opportunity to hold her family like this again. For a second, fear twists her brother’s face, and Cass immediately moves to wipe the crease from his brow with soft fingers. The expression fades and Cass breathes deeply, biting back the flare of pain from cracked ribs stabbing at her lungs.
Pain has always been inconsequential for her. It has never benefited her, and she’s trained herself to ignore most of it; at first, to make Cain happy, then to keep Bruce and Barbara from pulling her from the field, and then finally to keep her family from worrying. Cass is an excellent liar when it comes to her own body and limitations, though she thinks now that the others will keep an even closer eye on her.
The thought of them distracting themselves with her wellbeing turns her stomach. She’s the one who looks out for them, not the other way around. Cass is more weapon than girl, and it’s an unspoken fact that she’s more expendable than the rest of them. They shouldn’t have to pretend she’s anything special, or waste their time fretting over such ridiculous things. Her family is so much more than she is, and this is all she knows.
They get through an episode and a half like this, Jason drooling on her lap and Cass overthinking, until her brother finally begins to stir.
He shoots up, and Cass is barely able to dodge his head connecting with her chin. “Fuck, Cassie—” Jason starts, before twisting to envelop her in a feather-light hug. She returns the hug with much more force than he’s giving, but the voice in the back of her head reminds her that he doesn’t want to risk hurting her further. She can feel his breaths struggling not to hitch, and she rubs soothing circles on his back. “Cassie, you died on us.”
“Wouldn’t be… the first time,” she rasps out, suddenly aware of just how parched she is. Jason stiffens then, slowly drawing back to reveal confusion-shock-horror painting his face. The expression sticks as he leans to grab a cup of water from the bedside table and hands it to Cass. She spills some as she finishes the cup, and finds he’s still staring at her with that look on his face. Clearing her throat, she clarifies, “Murdered. Twice. Shiva, then… Mad Dog. No biggie.”
Jason looks even more horrified, and Cass doesn’t fully understand why. It’s never been a secret that she’s been killed before, it’s just that… well, nobody’s ever asked before. She parts her hair to the side to reveal a stark white streak of hair, then reaches up to lightly tug on Jason’s hair. “See? Matching.”
Pain-sadness-heartbreak replaces the horror on his features, but that doesn’t make Cass feel better at all. “Jesus, Cassie, I’m so sorry. Does Bruce know? Or Barbie? Does anyone?” She answers with a shrug, and Jason sighs heavily. “I’ll chew them out about that later, but first I gotta get something through your head first, okay?”
Now it’s Cass’ turn to be confused, and she opens her mouth to question him, but Jason cuts her off. “You’re never allowed to do that to us again, to me again, do you hear me?” Cass tilts her head in bewilderment. “You died on us, Cass, do you get that? Do you understand what that would have done to us?”
Oh, she thinks, finally understanding what he means. “If I die, you don’t… have a weapon anymore,” she nods. It makes sense that they would be concerned about that. Nobody else can do what she does. Bruce and the others can’t put their lives on the line like she does because they wouldn’t be able to take the beatings she does and bounce back like nothing happened.
Rage twists Jason’s face, but his hands are still soft when they grab her face. “No. Christ, is that what you think you are to us? You’re my little sister, Cassie. You’re our family, you’re not just some thing to be used. Cain fucked up how you think, but we thought you understood that you’re not just a weapon, you never have been.” His voice hitches, and Cass watches as his eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. “You’re not expendable. You can’t live your life thinking that you are, it doesn’t work like that. We love you. I didn’t camp out here just to make sure you got back to working order, I stayed with you because I was scared you’d stop breathing, or you’d wake up scared and alone. I stayed with you because I love you just as much as you love me, and any one of us would say the same, and do the same.”
He drops his hands from her face and stands up from the bed to let off steam, pacing around the room. Cass just sits there, trying to believe what she’s been told.
“Nobody… calls me,” she starts softly. Jason stares at her, bewilderment written all over his face. “They call Black Bat. When Bruce was gone, nobody called. Never asked where I was. Never came to see me.” Her fingers make knots in the bedsheets, eyes never looking up to face her brother. “Tim called once, needed Black Bat to save him. He left after I helped. I didn’t know B was home for a long time.”
Her brother is careful not to interrupt her, and Cass is grateful, because words are so hard. She takes just another moment to put her thoughts into words before she goes on. “If I am more than a weapon… Someone would call.”
She isn’t mad about it, not at all. Cass thinks they might just be confused, really. Sure, they ask Cassandra Cain-Wayne to attend fundraisers and public events to keep up appearances, and she tags along on family outings, but she’s the one who does all of the legwork in their personal lives. She’s the one who crashes into their apartments to make midnight Rice Krispie treats, or pulls them out of bed to take them to lunch, or finds concert tickets for their favorite bands for them to go to. Nobody wakes her up in the middle of the night to raid a 7/11, or takes her to Claires to get questionable ear piercings, or get lost in the IKEA showroom. Those are activities for people, and she’s not… a person.
There’s no sound in the room for a while, then a hard sniffle. Cass’ head jerks up, and she winces at the pain, but otherwise ignores it to watch as Jason hides his face in both of his hands, wiping at his eyes.
“I’ll do better, they’ll all do better, too.” His voice is wet and full of heartbreak and remorse when he speaks. “We’re gonna treat you right this time, Cassie, I swear to god. You are a person, you’re the best one I know, and you don’t even— you don’t even know it.” Jason sits himself down at the edge of her bed again, placing one hand over her heart and one on the back of her neck, gently levering her down on her pillows. From the cart next to her bed, he pulls a syringe and a bottle of Dilaudid.
He draws the pain medication and fiddles with her IV for a moment before continuing. “I know you’re in pain, and I know that showing it has been beaten out of you, but you need to rest, okay? And when you wake up this time, things’ll be different.” He finally meets her eyes again, and past the redness and sorrow, there’s only determination in his eyes. He depresses the plunger on the syringe and Cass immediately feels the pain dissipate.
“It’s time that Robin protects Batgirl for a change, Cassie.”
Maybe it’s the pain medication, or how determined he is to fix the mess they’ve all made of her, or maybe even the trauma of it all, but before she knows it, hot tears are burning tracks down her cheeks and soft hiccupping sobs are shaking her broken ribcage. He moves further up the mattress to sit against her headboard, calloused hands wiping her tears and carding through her hair.
Just as she’s nearly cried herself to sleep, she hears her brother whisper, “I’ll call you, Cassie. I’ll call you.”