Work Text:
Cass slipped back in through the window, not bothering to close it behind her (Barbara said it wasn’t safe – someone could get in, but she was strong, so it didn’t matter). She pulled off her mask, dropping it beside her, and yanked out her ponytail, slipping the band around her wrist. Barbara had left clothes on her bed, that meant she was expected to change.
The new clothes were soft. She hesitated briefly before taking off her suit. She liked her suit; it would be nice if she could wear it all the time. She didn’t need any other clothes. But Barbara got mad if she wore it too long, she said it ‘smelled like rancid meat’ and that didn’t sound good, so she relented.
A laugh rang out, echoing through the halls. She cracked open her door, and noise poured in. Words were coming from the kitchen, opening the door further, she made up her mind to investigate. She crept through the hallway, catching a whiff of a delicious smell as she neared the kitchen.
Poking her head around the corner, she found Barbara sitting with a guy – Dick – Nightwing, he was Dick without the mask, Nightwing with it. And the boy – Tim – who was also Robin. Tim moved his hand back and forth, looking at her.
The others abruptly stopped talking, noticing Tim’s movements. She slid back into the hall, unsure of what to do. Barbara didn’t usually have other people here (at least while she was home).
“Hey, Cass, where’re you going?” Tim called, he was nice – she talked to him on patrol sometimes. She leaned back into the room.
“Bed.” There wasn’t any point in being up any longer. She would sleep and then train, and then patrol again. Tim frowned, unhappy, though she didn’t know why.
“Why don’t you come join for a bit. We made cookies.” Dick offered, smiling wide. Very wide, she could see all his teeth. Happy? She didn’t know. It made her feel uneasy, she didn’t know either of the guys very well. She looked to Barbara.
“I tried one, they’re good.” She gestured to the stove. “Don’t eat them all.” She warned. Cass needed no more prompting; the cookies smelled delicious. She practically floated over to the stove. She shoved the first cookie down her throat with no hesitation (she was hungry after all), and enjoyed a second one, chewing it slowly in her mouth.
The conversation picked back up as she devoured her prize. Nicking a third cookie from the pan, she stood and watched the three talk. They seemed relaxed and happy, no signs of sudden movement. The cookie was chewy, sweet and like… she thought for a minute. Savory? Savory sounded kind of correct.
It was kind of sticky though. Like it wasn’t making it all the way to her stomach. And her throat felt weird, like the time Barbara gave her a scratchy sweater to wear to the mall. She scratched it, but the feeling didn’t go away.
The others were still engrossed in conversation. She took another bite but couldn’t seem to swallow it. She set it down frowning. She liked the cookies, she wanted to eat more, but her throat felt weird, and the itching sensation kept spreading.
“Cass, how was your patrol?” Barbara asked from the table. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come, her chest tightening. It felt like her throat was swelling, closing in on itself, and she found herself gasping for air. “CASS!” Barbara screamed; the boys leapt from the table.
Wheezing, she half fell into Dick’s arms as he rushed over. The world blurred around her. Panic raced through her mind, her pulse pounding in her ears.
“Tim, get the epinephrine, I’m calling Leslie, Dick, get her on the couch.” Barbara barked out orders as the world began to spin. Everything was dizzy, and confusing, words began to swirl around her.
She was swept off her feet, instinctively she fought back, kicking without her usual force. She squirmed away as her foot connected, unwilling to be captured in her own home. Barbara was right, was all she could think. She should have closed the window.
A kick connected, and the attacker let go. She hit the floor running. Alarm bells rang in her head as she was grabbed by both arms. Words swirled around her as black spots danced across the blurry kitchen floor. She fought to keep conscious as her breath escaped her.
She was moving, she couldn’t tell where, and she couldn’t see by who. She kept kicking, she tried to scream but couldn’t. The voice turned pleading, but she couldn’t see where it was coming from, her eyes felt puffy, and she couldn’t open them. Hot tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, she wasn’t crying, but they came out anyways.
With a final burst of energy, she heard a delightful crack as she headbutted her captor, but the hands on her arms held fast, determinedly dragging her away. She squirmed, exhausted, but unwilling to go quietly. Eventually they stopped, and she felt someone pinning her legs, as the first captor pinned her arms and chest. She was forced down, onto her back with her legs raised up in someone’s lap.
Something sharp pricked her thigh. She squirmed harder, desperately trying to break from the hold. Words usually bounced off her ears, she didn’t have time to listen, she needed to get out! Her brain screamed for freedom, though her body betrayed her; she sat limply against whoever had taken her.
But, listening might help her figure out how to get out. She willed the panic filling her to ease and focused on the cacophony, trying to pick out something that made sense.
“Cass?” She made out Barbara’s calm voice amidst the blur of words and held onto it like a lifeline. “It’s going to okay, you’re safe.” She turned her head towards the voice. “Oh, thank god. Nod a bit if you can hear me.” She jerked her head. The grip on her slackened momentarily, and she nearly broke away before it tightened again. “Stay still, it’s just Dick. He won’t hurt you.”
She thought back to moments before, vaguely remembering him approaching before her vision had turned hazy. “Focus on breathing okay, in… out… okay?” She followed the instructions, turning attention to her breath. In, out, in, out. The hands on her loosened as she sat perfectly still, her wheezing evening out as she concentrated. Something wet dripped on her face and was wiped away, one of Dick’s hand’s receding altogether, the other moving to reassuringly squeeze her shoulder.
She felt acutely alert, restless, despite the dizziness clouding her mind. She tried to sit up, but Dick’s hand kept her planted to the couch. “Sorry, Cass.” Came his muffled voice. “Stay put.”
“Cass, Leslie’s going to come over in a minute, is that okay?” Tim asked, the grip on her legs receding. She gave a thumbs up, Leslie was nice, and good of taking care of her when she was sick. “Barbara’s going to put cream on your eyes so you can see. Is that okay?” She flashed a second thumbs up.
A wet, lukewarm cloth wiped tears and sweat off her face, then a dry fluffy one patted the liquid away. Cool goop was smeared around her eyes, quickly but precisely and gently. Her heart raced in anticipation, but the hands remained gentle. She allowed herself to relax against (what she thought was) Dick’s lap.
Barbara finished her work, and minutes later, opened the door and the sounds of Leslie’s irritated voice echoed in the room. “I can’t believe we didn’t test her for allergens. I can’t believe Bruce never got her tested. I can’t believe I never got her tested. We’re getting her tested next week.” Leslie declared. She could hear her footsteps pounding closer.
“I’m going to listen to your heart alright?” Leslie asked, and she nodded. A cool piece of metal slipped under her shirt up to her heart. Leslie asked her to breathe, and little by little, she made it through the examination.
She was able to lift her eyelids by the time she was asked to swallow another pill. The room swam back into focus, Tim sat at her feet, propping up her legs, and Dick smiled down from above her. She could hear Leslie and Barbara talking in the kitchen.
She blinked a few more times. Dick’s nose was busted, dried blood covering his face, and one of Tim’s eyes was swollen, an icepack sitting forgotten on the table beside him. Had she…?
Cass wanted to fade out of existence and sink into the couch. “Sorry.” She muttered sheepishly. The boys looked confused for a moment, then glanced at each other, then broke into light laughter.
“Oh, -ude, it’s -ine.” Dick assured, feeling at his (probably) broken nose. “I smashed it -ast -eek, the -amage was already there.”
“Yeah, besides.” Tim chimed in, red angrily spreading across his face. “I startled Dick once, and he threw me off a roof.”
“I -id not.” Dick bantered back. “-ou -ell by yourself.”
“Sorry, can’t understand you.” Tim caught her eye and smirked. “Don’t sweat it Cassie, Dick’s a bigger dumbass than any of us.”
“Whatever.” Dick mumbled above her. He pulled her up by the shoulder and leaned her against the couch. “I’ll -e -ack.” He walked over to Leslie, grabbing a cloth and cleaning up his face.
“So, how do you feel?” Barbara asked, rolling back over. She hesitated for a moment before responding.
“Confused.” She replied. Weren’t people supposed to be angry when you hit them? And cookies weren’t supposed to make people sick. Everything that had happened since she’d gotten home had been overwhelming. Barbara placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
“There was peanut butter in the cookies, it makes some people, like you, really sick. But not everyone.” Cass nodded, sort of understanding.
“Why me?” She asked. Her skin still felt itchy; her hands were still red. Barbara shrugged.
“Maybe it’s cuz you’re so good at everything else, the gods thought you needed a weakness.” Tim suggested. Barbara tossed an icepack at him.
“Allergies have scientific basis, don’t go teaching her lies.” She instructed. Cass smiled.
“I’m too powerful… The gods were scared.” She asserted. She liked the sound of that. Barbara groaned.
“See she’s like Superman, and peanut butter’s her Kryptonite.” Tim added, pressing the ice to his face. Cass had met Superman, he was nice. Too nice.
“I could take him.” She grinned as Barbara groaned again.
“No, you can’t, he’s literally invincible.” She argued.
“Kryptonite.” Tim reminded. “Bruce probably has some, somewhere. After that it’s easy.” Cass grinned at him, with whatever he was talking about, if it had the same effect as ‘peanut butter’ it would be easy.
Dick groaned and muttered something undistinguishable from the kitchen table. “He said, shut up, Clark can probably hear you.” Leslie offered. Cass peaked behind the couch to see ice pressed against his face, his nose was back in place with a little shield covering it.
Leslie strode towards the door. “Call if you need anything, Cassandra’s under observation for the next four hours. I don’t think Tim has a concussion but watch out for any signs. And Dick, if the pain gets worse, don’t be like Bruce.” She admonished. The door slammed shut behind her.
The group sat in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Barbara started to laugh. Cass nervously chucked along, and Tim joined in as well. Dick contributed a few wheezes, and they all broke into harder, relieved laughing. It felt good, crazy, but also good.
After a few minutes Tim calmed down enough to speak. “Why are we laughing?” He asked nervously. Barbara dropped her head into her hands, and wiped tears from her eyes, quieting at last.
“We fight crime every night, and a couple cookies just took down three of you.” Barbara pointed out. “Lord, help us all.” Cass grimaced. She didn’t want to see cookies for a long time.
Dick made his way over from the table, and sat to her left, Tim remaining on her right. Barbara hugged the left side of the couch. “So, Cass.” His voice clearer than before, but still muffled under the ice. “You can’t leave or sleep for the next four hours. You pick the movie.”
The television clicked to life before her, and Tim passed her the remote after adjusting the volume. She grinned, scrolling to her favorite (well, she’d only seen three movies, but she liked it).
“Swan Lake? No one even talks.” Tim asked, sounding puzzled.
“Hey, don’t judge.” Barbara chided. “She likes ballet.”
“I’m not.” Tim defended as the opening credits began to play. Cass hushed him.
“Makes sense. It’s like body language poetry.” Dick muttered. She hushed him too as the dancer began appearing on stage.
The people in the room fell silent after that. Dick scooched over making room between them and helped Barbara onto the couch. About fifteen minutes later, she heard his breathing even out as he fell asleep. Tim made it another five before he passed out as well. Thankfully, neither snored.
Barbara sat next to her, awake and alert, quietly scanning her every few minutes. Cass took in the beautiful sequence on the screen. As they sat in quiet companionship, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she snuggled back, neither needing words to take comfort in one another.
