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It takes a long time for Stephanie to recover.
In the first week, Cassandra visits quietly, silently, slinking through the windows in the dimming light. But one day, as she sits beside her best friend, Dr. Thompkins flicks on a light.
Cass freezes, flooded with shame and uncertainty; Leslie didn’t want her here, before. She wasn’t good enough to stop people from dying.
But the doctor’s gaze is gentle – even if she studiously avoids the Bat on Cassandra’s chest.
“You don’t need to sneak around.” She must see the doubt even, beneath the kevlar; she can’t read people like Cass does, but years of practice means she’s better than most. Her shoulders hunch a little – the same way Bruce’s does, when he feels guilty. “None of this is your fault.”
Cass can’t hold her gaze, so certain and kind; instead, she looks back down at Steph. She’s covered, mostly, but her face is pale and bruised. “Tried…to find her.”
“You couldn’t have known. Even he didn’t.” Leslie’s voice is lower now, angry – but when Cass looks up again, she sees desperate, mournful love.
“Batman – Bruce – didn’t want…this.”
Leslie sighs, raking a hand through limp, mussed hair. (Her clothes are rumpled, and the circles under her eyes are deeper than usual.) “He never does. But here we are.”
Something twists in Cass’s chest. There’s a heated need to defend him, but when she looks at Steph again - “She just wanted…to be a hero.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Leslie steps forward and rests a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “She’ll recover. You can be here with her as often as you’d like.”
When Batman tells her to go to Bludhaven, she says no.
He tells her that it’s not a punishment, not a way to push her away, that she deserves her own city. He doesn’t say that he loves her, that he’s proud of her, but she can see it anyway. It doesn’t matter, not in this moment.
“This – is my city.” She pulls back her cowl. It feels strangely heavy against her neck. “I have…friends. Here.”
His shoulders hunch, a little.
“You can still visit Stephanie. I’ll make any arrangements you need.”
She looks away, out at the the city. The jagged skyline that’s become her home. The reason her best friend is barely conscious.
“Robin needs you, too.”
She doesn’t mean to pout, as she looks back at him. “That’s…cheating.”
“Yes.” He smiles, grim and weary. He doesn’t say that he’s worried about Tim, or that he wants them away from a city that’s turned against them, a city that he failed.
She takes his hand, and tells him goodbye.
They become Bludhaven’s Dynamic Duo.
They don’t actually fight side by side very much; when one of them is in Gotham, sitting at Stephanie’s bedside, the other is in Bludhaven. Patrolling, or investigating, or just getting to know the city. One of the highlights for Cassandra is Brenda Miller and her tea shop.
She’s never been able to relax with people who weren’t like her, who didn’t spend their nights prowling and fighting and protecting. But Brenda’s easy affection and quiet concern always make her feel lighter, and their morning chats grow more and more intimate.
The only problem is, she feels a bit guilty.
The first time they laugh together, it catches in her throat; she takes a sip of tea to hide it, but Brenda sees. (She sees a lot, just like Leslie, even if she doesn’t always understand.)
“Cass?”
She wants to say it’s nothing, it’s fine, but Brenda looks so worried, and she’s wondering what she did wrong.
“It’s not – you. Promise.” She frowns, trying to grasp the right words. “I was…alone. For a long time. Not much – laughter.” Brenda is nodding, accepting; knows enough about Cain to put some of the pieces together. (She knows what it is, to be on your own, to fight tooth and nail to forge a place for yourself.)
“Then I found Gotham. Found – family. And a friend.”
Brenda’s eyes widen, a little. “Your first one?”
“Yeah.” She has to take a moment, filling the space with a few bites of blueberry muffin. “She’s – she got hurt. Bad. In the gang war.”
The horror is clear and immediate; the coverage went far and wide, and nothing hid how brutal it all was. “God, Cass, I’m so sorry.” The words aren’t hollow; she’s never met Stephanie, and she’s only known Cassandra for a few weeks, but her heart is bleeding for them.
It makes Cass smile a little, through it all. “She’s – awake now, sometimes. But she’s…fuzzy. Can’t talk much. Can’t laugh.”
Understanding dawns, and after a moment’s hesitation Brenda reaches out to rest a hand on Cassandra’s. “I think she’d want you to laugh.” Her lips quirk in a sheepish, hopeful smile. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to be rusty, by the time she’s okay.”
Cass blinks hard a few times, before smiling back. “True.”
It’s easier, after that, to embrace her emotions – the fluttering in her chest when Brenda grins at her, the warmth in her cheeks when she give her a compliment. It’s like flying with Kon through castles of clouds, without ever leaving the ground.
One day, when she enters the shop, Brenda is nervous. It’s strange; there’s so much steel behind her smile, hard-won pride and confidence that she can wield like a weapon if she has to. Cass has never seen her like this. She barely says a word before handing Cass her tea, and a towering stack of pancakes she’ll undercharge for.
Brenda tucks strands of rose-red hair behind her ear, gnawing at her lip. “So – that party, a while ago, it got cut short. And I’ve got these tickets to a concert – they’re a local band, nothing huge, but there’s gonna be a mosh pit and food and - “
Cass never thought she could grin quite this widely. It makes her cheeks ache.
“Yes.”
Tim notices, of course. He doesn’t see people like she does, but his gaze catches everything, and the wheels in his mind never stop turning. One night when they’re actually together, kneeling on a rooftop and missing Gotham’s gargoyles, he says “So that’s a nice tea shop, huh?”
Cass shoots him a flat look. “Ask…what you want to.”
Tim smiles back, a bit sheepishly. He looks so young, when he does that. “You go there every day, almost. And you’re always smiling when you leave. And you’ve been…you’ve got a spring in your step.”
She’s never blushed quite like this, beneath the mask. She’s pretty sure Tim can see it, somehow.
“I just, you know. I want to say…good for you.” He means it, but there’s a catch in his voice, in the way his shoulders tense. He’s worried about something. “But it’s hard. Caring about someone who doesn’t know the whole you.”
Cass nods, slowly; Brenda tells her that it doesn’t matter what she does, but it still feels like a barrier between them.
Tim smile again, and he looks older this time. “Just – be careful. For both of you.”
They’re making progress in Bludhaven – tracking down the corruption, helping people feel safe – but Gotham is just as dangerous for vigilantes. The tension is palpable every time she goes back, whether she’s wearing a Bat or not. It’s stifling, and frustrating, and it only sharpens her guilt.
But it’s always worth it, when she sees Stephanie awake.
She’s still so weak, and her face is pale and bruised, she’s hooked up to all kinds of machines. But she always smiles when Cassandra slips inside. “Heya, Batghoul.” (It’s funny because Cass is dressed in jeans and a hoodie.) “What’s shaking?” Her voice is light, if hoarse. She always tries to be cheerful.
She must know that Cass can see everything seething and aching underneath, but she tries anyway.
Cass shrugs as she smiles back, settling into her usual chair. (Leslie has tied cushions on it, and she keeps mugs of tea and an array of snacks in Stephanie’s room.) “Crime.”
Steph rolls her eyes, which makes her grimace for a second before saying, “You need more hobbies, girl.” Her eyes go wide when Cass flushes, and a mischievous grin lights her face. “Okay, dish.”
The flush deepens, of course. She doesn’t say a word.
“Don’t make me cross my arms, it hurts.”
That gets a pout. “Not fair.”
Stephanie’s expression is utterly shameless. (For once.) Cass sighs.
“I, um. Met someone.”
“In Bludhaven?” Steph is teasing, but there’s real concern and skepticism, and Cass can’t help but bristle. Her words are quicker than usual, stumbling against each other.
“It – can be good. . And she’s…kind, and gentle, and she makes tea, and - “
The doubts have already faded; Steph’s smile is warm and bright. “Okay, that’s adorable.” Cass’s shoulders ease again, until Steph continues. “So when do I get to meet her?”
She doesn’t talk to Brenda about it, not for a week or so. The idea of tying her two lives together like that – her past and her future, her failures and her hopes – makes her stomach twist. The idea of exposing Brenda to all of it, without even knowing who they really are, is worse.
Then, one day, they’re watching the news. It’s about rebuilding Gotham, and prosecuting the surviving gang members, and the tension between vigilantes and the police.
Cass’s shoulders hunch as they talk about blame, about arrogance and recklessness.
Brenda’s arm cross as she glares at the screen. “That’s not fair.”
“No?”
Brenda shakes her head, firm and sure. “No. I mean – yeah, they probably should have worked with the cops more. But they saved a lot of lives anyway. They shouldn’t be fugitives just because they aren’t perfect.”
She gestures out the window, as the sun sets. “Batgirl and Robin are out here busting their asses to help us now, just because they can. I’ve never felt this safe, and I know a ton of people who feel the same way.”
Cass just stares up at her for a few seconds. There’s a swooping in her chest, and tears prick at the edge of her eyes. Brenda is about to ask what’s wrong, and then -
“Do you…want to come to Gotham? With me?”
Her apartment looks exactly as she left it – Alfred’s effort, no doubt – and the lonely, hollow regret she expected doesn’t happen. Maybe it’s because Brenda is right behind her when they step inside, and she gazes at the room with delighted curiosity.
“This place is amazing, Cass, how can you afford - “ She grimaces, as she stops herself. “Sorry.”
Cass shakes her head. “No, it’s – fine. It’s, um, a Wayne building.”
Brenda stills, peering at her. “You mean like the Wayne grant my shop got?”
“Um.” Brenda crosses her arms, which is quite a feat considering she’s carrying two bags of luggage, and stares at her expectantly. “He’s…like a dad.”
“But not your criminal dad.”
“No.”
“So it’s like a fostering thing?”
“…Yes?”
Brenda stares at her a second longer, before shaking her head. “Okay.” She’s confused, and a little concerned, but she’s willing to shove it aside. She always is.
“Can we talk about it…over lunch?”
It’s a small diner, run by a local family; it’s one of the few places that survived the quake, more by chance than anything. In the early days, before the supplies ran out, they would serve food to anyone who came by. Some people tried to take it, of course, take everything; it was the first time she stood and fought to protect something in Gotham. Before Oracle, before Batgirl.
The hostess – Hannah, a plump woman with a mass of dark curls, a slightly crooked nose and a wide, kind smile – strides forward and clasps her hands. “Cassandra! We haven’t seen you in ages.”
Cass smiles back, a bit bashful. “I’ve been – in Bludhaven. But - “ She gestures at Brenda, who’s been watching with keen interest. “Wanted to show my friend…my favourite spot.”
Hannah turns her grin on Brenda, though she’s very clearly looking her up and down. Cass can feel her cheeks flushing as Hannah finally nods, turning around and grabbing a menu. (Just the one; she’s always let Cass describe what she wants.) “Come along, dears, I’ve got a lovely spot near the window.”
Once they’ve settled in and ordered some milk shakes, Brenda finally voices some of her curiosity. “She sure likes you.”
“I, um, helped out, once. When the earthquake hit.”
Brenda’s eyes go wide, just like they did when she learned about Steph; the Cataclysm took far more lives than the gang war did. “You were here for that?”
“Yeah. Just got here, when it happened.”
“Damn. Talk about bad timing.”
Cass shakes her head. “People…needed help. And I was here.”
Brenda is staring at her with a stunned admiration that makes her want to cry. Time to change the subject. “That’s, um, how I met Bruce.”
“Bruce Wayne.” Her brow furrows. “I remember – he tried to stop that whole No Man’s Land thing, right? But it didn’t work.”
Cass nods. “Didn’t – stop helping people, though. None of them did.”
“Them?”
“His – family. Friends. I…”
She’s never mentioned Barbara. (Stephanie told her that Black Canary stops in sometimes. To see how she’s doing, but also to ask about Cass. Sometimes she thinks about passing a message along, some kind of peace offering.) “I had – she met me, first. Named me. But…”
Brenda’s brow crinkles, and Cass can see the recognition of familiar pain. “You fought?” When she gets a nod in return, “My dad and I…we argued a lot. I acted out after Mom died, and he was just…kind of hollow, you know? Depressed. We ran up a lot of debt between us, so that was nice and stressful.”
There’s old pain in the way her hands clutch the table, but steady sureness in the set of her shoulders. “But we worked it out, before he died. There’s a lot more I wish we could have said, could have done, but…” She shrugs. “I can think back and say he knew that I loved him, you know? Him and that damn coffee shop.”
Cass blinks hard a few times, as she smiles. “I – like that shop, too.”
Brenda grins back at her, ruefully proud. “Yeah, I noticed.”
They’re in Gotham for a few days before visiting Steph. They talk about Bruce and Barbara and Alfred, about tea and dancing, about campy horror movies and frustrating politics. Never about what Cass really does, who she really is.
Brenda sleeps in the spare bedroom, and Cass pauses by the open door each night, wondering if she should invite her into her own. But she’s never done that before, and while she can see Brenda’s attraction neither of them has attempted a kiss, and what if they try and she does something wrong, what if she loses her first friend since -
“You’re gonna gnaw your lip off.” Brenda’s voice is warmly teasing as she steps out onto the balcony. (It’s the only apartment that has one; Cass wonders if Bruce had it built for her specifically, and how long ago it must have been.) “Are you that nervous about me meeting Stephanie?”
Cass turns from the waning sunlight with a sheepish smile and a faint blush. “No, it’s – something else. Not important. You’re ready?” Brenda stares at her just long enough to make her skepticism clear before nodding.
It’s dark by the time they reach Crime Alley. Brenda notices the shift in Cass’s posture, the closing of space between them, but she doesn’t say anything.
Leslie is deeply, quietly pleased to see them, and immediately ushers them towards Steph’s room. (There aren’t usually permanent rooms in the clinic, but Leslie set this one aside and Bruce paid for all the equipment and comfort Steph would need.) “She’s been conserving her energy all week, you know.”
Then they’re stepping inside. Steph immediately puts down the comic she’s reading, grin broad and eyes twinkling; she almost looks like herself. “Cass is right, you’re totally cute.”
“Stephanie!” Her voice squeaks, and she must be beet red. Then she hears Brenda’s delighted chuckle.
“I’ve been waiting ages for her to tell me that.”
Steph carefully shakes her head, tsking to herself. “She’s ridiculous. Almost as much as her dad.”
“You know him, too? God, Bruce Wayne.”
Brenda walks closer; Cass notices she doesn’t stiffen, that she steps around the cords easily. Maybe her father was in a room like this, before he died. Still, she hesitates by the chairs until Cass follows and sits beside her.
“You get used to it.” The words are wry. Stephanie didn’t know his name until she woke up in this bed. But there’s no bitterness in the set of her mouth, not any more. Cass wonders how often he’s visited. “But sometimes you remember he could buy your house with pocket change.”
Brenda’s smirk is sharply sympathetic. “I bet he could buy my whole building. Heck, my whole neighbourhood.”
Stephanie shifts – carefully – and taps her chin. “He might already own my neighbourhood.”
“At least your billionaires are better than ours.”
“Yeah, Bludhaven drew the short straw, huh? But we do get more supervillains.”
Brenda raises a hand, rocking it back and forth. “We’ve gotten more since Nightwing showed up. Not that it was his fault.” Her expression turns wistful. “A lot of us wonder where he is, you know? I hope he’s okay.”
Cass looks away, hands curling in her lap. Steph glances at the door, and her voice lowers. “Cass, you look like a kicked puppy. If you want to say something you should.”
As she looks up, “Tim?”
Stephanie smiles, warm and weary. “He doesn’t keep secrets from me. Not anymore.”
“Um?” They both turn to Brenda, who looks bewildered. “Did I say something wrong?”
Cass and Steph shake heads in tandem. Then Cass turns in her chair, reaching a tentative hand towards Brenda; after a moment, she takes it. “Cass…?”
“I – Nightwing is…okay. Just – needed time. I know, because…” With her free hand, she fishes in her pocket, and draws out a batarang.
Brenda stares at it for a moment, flooded with confusion and shock and relief. Then she looks up at Cass like she’s seeing her for the first time. Seeing all of her, finally. “That explains a lot.”
Cass doesn’t think; she just pulls Brenda close and kisses her. She barely hears Steph cheering from the bed.
When they part, noses brushing, Brenda murmurs something that makes her heart soar and plummet all at once, something she agrees to before Brenda’s even finished.
“I think you should introduce me to Barbara next.”