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Cassandra Cain
You know that something is wrong when your eyes open. It isn't the aches of your injuries; it isn't the dull, pounding pain in your head. It isn't even in the way it takes... effort to think, effort to avoid falling back into that numb haze that filled you every time Slade gave you your shot. Those are all...not okay, but expected.
It's what you see when you look at Robin kneeling over you, at Nightwing standing a short distance away. "Batgirl," Robin says, and you wince. He frowns, and you listen to his body preparing to reach out and grasp your hand, to reach down and crush your throat, to defend against your attack, to cry, to laugh, to run away, to.... It's too much. You see too much in him, in Nightwing. Just as you have in everyone since Slade...
He told you what the serum was intended for, the same one that gave Ravager and him their abilities. Opening up the full...power of the human mind. It isn't the first time someone has tried to improve your brain, and like the last time, it cost you. Last time, you lost the ability to... see. Now you see too much, a thousand possibilities for every real motion, every... choice made and not made. Too much.
Slade hadn't cared, and so neither had you. Now, though... "Serum," you say, your voice rusty. You fumble for the words that came so easily only... hours before. "Not...gone."
You see Robin's worry, his anger, his fear, his.... Emotions and potential movements race across his body, flickering and changing with every instant. He does a thousand different things, and you only know the disabling nerve pinch is real when it lands. Then he injects you... more anti-serum, sedatives. You don't fight the oncoming darkness.
When it lifts, you are restrained, lying in a plain cot, in the center of an empty, white room. The bonds are tight and strong, but not painful. You can move your arms and legs a little, but not escape. Four security cameras, one in each corner of the room. Difficult to take them all out at once. No visible door; no windows. Secure.
Your head pounds. Too much... too many drugs. Side effects. Withdrawal...effects? That's the wrong word; there's a...better one. You know you know...knew it, but it won't come. All the words, dodging away from your thoughts. Why?
You wait for him to come. You can't...track time like this, but you don't think it's long before an opening appears in one wall. There are... three others outside, but only he enters. The door slides shut behind him, and only then does he move away from it. He approaches you, but he stays out of reach.
"No touching," his body says, but it also babbles a thousand different things. "Touch me. Touch you. Love you. Hate you. Attack. Defend. Enemy. Friend. Killer. Murder. Victim. Betrayer. Betrayed." Too many things, no sense to be found. Everything he might be thinking, everything he can imagine thinking, you see in the stillness of his body. You can't sort it out, can't find the truth.
You wish you could. He is angry...you think. Angry at you? Slade? Himself? No way to see; no way to know. You should know. You would have known...before. It hurts to try to listen to his body. It talks too loud to understand, too softly to see.
You turn away, and then he speaks. Words.
"Report," Batman says, his voice deep and flat.
He doesn't call you Batgirl.
Bruce Wayne
You don't pace. The Batman does not pace. Occasionally, you decide to stand in a different place and walk to it, but you don't pace. "What dose did you say you gave her?" you snap at Robin. The girl should be awake by now.
"I told you," the boy responds, his voice dead. "One dose of the anti-serum you and I developed for Rose during the fight. After, another dose of anti-serum and one of our standard sedatives."
You nod. There might be some slight interaction between the anti-serum and the sedatives. Nothing dangerous, but it might take her a little longer to awaken. The lingering remnants of Deathstroke's serum might have an effect also. No need for concern; not yet.
"Someone should be in there," Nightwing says. "For when she -"
"Too dangerous," Robin answers flatly before you can. "There's no telling what state of mind she'll be in."
Oracle looks ready to argue, but then she looks down at her laptop. "She's awake," Oracle says, after checking the feeds from the security cameras. She's already cut them off from the JLA headquarters main security system, of course. This is your business, and you don't need anyone listening in. The others might mean well, but this is between you and her.
"Cut the feeds once I'm in," you tell Oracle. "Don't argue," you say when she starts to protest. "You'll have your chance to talk to her. I want privacy." You put on a communicator, though you don't turn it on. "I'll call for help if I need it."
"All right," she says, giving in too easily.
You just nod and hit the door control. It slides open, and you toss aside the bug Oracle put on your cloak. Then you step through, and you wait for the door to close.
She stares at you as you approach, and you stop far enough away that you'll have a chance to react if she attacks. Whatever she reads in your body language, she doesn't like it. You let her break herself, waiting for her to inevitably turn away.
"Report," you say.
She starts, her face blank as she turns back to you. "Found Shiva. Fought Shiva. Won." She hesitates. "Ran away. Come back. You, Robin gone." She pauses again. "Try to...get Slade. He get me...instead." She's fumbling for words, more than she has in a long time. Nervous? "You...know rest," she finishes.
"Was she your mother?"
"Yes."
You wait for her to turn away again. "How many?" you ask sharply, knowing you don't need to explain any more for her to understand the question.
She doesn't turn to face you. "Fourteen," she answers after a long moment. Another moment passes, and then she speaks again. "Faizul."
You wonder how she knows that name. Oracle must have told her. You don't give her any reaction. You can't read body language like she can, but you aren't illiterate in it. You know what she's doing. By listing him with the others, she takes responsibility for them all. You won't get any excuses from her.
"Shiva." She isn't dead, not anymore, but you both know that doesn't matter.
"Lazarus Pit?" you ask, and she nods, still not looking at you.
You listen as she lists the names, finishing with a quiet "Bombshell."
"Anything you want to say?" You wait for a while, then add, "Didn't think so."
"Can't talk right," she says. "Can't...see right. Serum?"
Combine Deathstroke's serum with her unique brain structure and abilities.... "Maybe," you answer. It might be worth investigating.
"What...now?"
You take a deep breath, and then you tell her.
Barbara Gordon
"Report," he says, and you wince. That's the first thing he can think to say to her? That? Like she was just back from some undercover mission or something? Slowly, haltingly, Cass answers, and realize that just might be what she needs. As much as you hate to admit it, Bruce probably understands Cass more than anyone.
If he knew you were listening in, he would probably think that you'd found a way around the safeguards he placed to keep you from remotely activating his communicator. That would be stupid, though. He'd notice that for sure. You'd made a weak attempt at it, but that was only a distraction, just like the bug he'd tossed aside before going inside.
Dick had planted a bug on Cassandra for you before he'd gotten her out of Deathstroke's mockery of Titans Tower. Bruce will be mad at him when he finds out, but Dick didn't mind. He knows why you need to hear this. At the end of the day, you and Cass might not have much in common beyond the name Batgirl, but in some very real sense that's still you lying on the cot in there.
"How many?" Bruce asks her. Not far from you, listening in, Tim clenches his fists.
"Fourteen," Cass says, and she starts to list the names. Each one lands like a punch to the chest. Shiva and Nyssa don't count, but twelve.... One murder had shaped the rest of Cass's life, and only death and rebirth had brought her any sort of peace with it. What would eleven more do to her?
Slade Wilson is going to learn just how unpleasant it is to have Oracle's all-seeing gaze fixed on him and how much damage her many hands can do. For a start, all his secret bank accounts will be drained. It's petty, almost pointless, but it will be only the beginning.
"What...now?" Cass asks, and all your attention goes back to the conversation as you wait to hear what Bruce will say next.
"Deathstroke's serum isn't mind control," Bruce says. "It doesn't create anything that wasn't already there."
Bastard. What the hell does he think he's saying?
"I...know." Damn it, Cass. You don't have to lie there and take that from him.
"You've killed outside of his influence, besides," Bruce continues. "Once for Cain. Once for yourself."
"No," Cass protests. "Not for me. For her." She pauses. "Gave her...what she gave me."
"It doesn't matter whether Shiva wanted to die or not," Bruce says. "You killed her."
"Yes."
"You aren't Batgirl," Bruce states. "Nor will you be Batgirl."
"I know."
"Good," Bruce growls. "You will pay for what you have done. Under the circumstances, the sentence will be relatively short." He pauses. "Understood?"
"Yes."
You hear Bruce walking away, and you switch off the bug and reconnect the cameras, downloading their local cache of the past few minutes' recording, moments before you hear him knocking in a precise pattern on the other side of the door. Tim opens it, and Bruce steps out. As the door shuts behind him, you look at Tim, but he won't say anything. Dick rests a hand on your shoulder.
Bruce looks at you. "She'll be ready for you in about an hour," he tells you. "Give her time to think first."
"You bastard," you snarl. "Do you have any idea what you did to her?"
"Yes," Bruce says, not surprised that you listened in. "She won't refuse your mission now."
Anger boils up inside you. How had he known that you were considering.... You hadn't even decided whether you could do that to her yet. "Bastard," you snarl again, and you push Dick's hand aside. Bruce just starts to walk away.
"By the way, Batman," you let out acidly just as he passes you, "You don't get to decide who can be Batgirl." You turn your head to give him a glare. "I do."
He just grunts, and you decide you don't want to know whether that mouth twitch is a smile. "Keep me informed," he commands, and then he is gone.