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Childhoods are an intimate, personal experience.
It was once believed that a fortunate childhood was a gift from the heavens for a past life well lived. A black and white concept that was turned from fact into faith long ago. Those fortunes were now a gamble, possibilities dealt out at random with no way to prevent nor predict which one was in their hands.
However, this coin toss of luck meant nothing to Cassandra Cain.
Only children experience childhoods, not weapons.
That is why the early years of her life were dedicated to gruesome training. When training succeeded and she achieved levels of mastery, there were no praises, only a smooth transition into the next skill to learn.
The League of Assassins deemed her ready for her first field mission when she was no older than ten. With her mother no longer in the picture, it was up to her father to escort her to the last confirmed location of her assigned target.
One of the many lessons she learned that night was how to identify a lie of omission.
Cass sensed something off from her father’s usually stoic demeanor. It was as if there were words about to slip from his tongue before they were caught and replaced with another. His shoulders were light, actions carefree, and more than anything, he was like a gambler who rigged the odds in his favor.
He called her mission a game. Named her target as the opponent. Told her to eliminate the target to win.
This was a game she’d trained her entire life to win.
—--
In the beginning, the game mirrored the countless drills she underwent in her training.
For her, it was second nature to stalk the target before pouncing.
Her target, however, did not move like the soldiers she trained with.
When soldiers fought against each other it was easy for her to see how growing frustrations made movements sloppy, acting as a poison slowly spreading throughout the body.
Cass noticed the poison’s potency increased when they fought against her. Embarrassment, anger, shame, she recognized defeat no matter what mask it wore.
But that night her opponent was frantic. Every move was painfully uncoordinated, blood untainted as he tripped over his own feet at the sight of her shadow closing in.
There was no grace of an assassin nor the marksmanship of a soldier.
Just wide eyes looking for a way to escape, not even trying to win this game of cat and mouse.
When he was inevitably cornered there was no familiar face to see. She only saw his tremors, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. How sweat and tears blended drop by drop down his chin. Watched as his mouth was too busy choking on his spit to stutter out a plea.
Cassandra Cain would never need words to know when someone was begging for their life.
—--
The true lesson that night was: how to read a dead man.
Bodies were not still, they were frozen. Slack jaws and heavy lidded eyes. Unshed tears falling wherever gravity pulled them. And their final breath was not a sigh of relief. It was a gasp. A naive and instinctive attempt to keep this last breath with them because they weren’t ready to release it. That’s what most people got wrong when they were trying to play dead.
They always released their breath willingly.
Cassandra felt like her breath left her behind, fleeing from her like it wasn’t an accomplice for the crime.
There was never a game.
Only a milestone marked by her father’s hand when he clasped her shoulder with a squeeze before moving onto the next part of her training.
Disposing a body.
—-
The night of her first and only kill reached its 10th anniversary this year, but a lot has changed since then.
Shortly after completing that mission she successfully ran away from the League.
For years she fended for herself, living off of nothing but her own wits and the occasional acts of kindness she received. A nomadic life that she loved.
Cass was reborn, the League would say. Every experience, even ones she was already familiar with, felt brand new when done with unshackled hands and uncovered eyes. Every struggle she encountered was almost welcomed in a way. It was much easier to shoulder the guilt from stolen fruit than taking a life.
Plenty of people live a life without seeing or hearing the world around them. They encounter obstacles of course, but their quality of life isn’t hindered by what they could or could not do. And unless they’ve mastered all languages, a skill that not even demigods or extraterrestrial life has accomplished, then everyone is subject to encounter the barrier language creates.
Cass has been looking through that barrier her entire life. These were simple facts she has known and witnessed since leaving the League. However, out of all the difficulties a barrier brought, she did not account for loneliness. Plenty of people live life knowing only one language. She had yet to meet someone who could only speak a language no one else knew.
Her very first conversation was with Batman.
The name was only a whisper amongst assassins to her until she came across the man who belonged to the title. She had not been in Gotham long but masked faces couldn’t cross through the city without drawing attention from the Bat.
Their first encounter involved a chase across rooftops. Despite the gadgets and his intricate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, Cass had managed to vanish. Having Batman’s attention was one thing, but having his curiosity was another thing entirely.
For weeks the chase continued, with every encounter the gap between his pursuit grew closer and closer until he had finally caught her. Cass shouldn’t have been surprised when Batman said her name. He had cut her down from his trap but made no other move to defend himself once she was free.
Instead he approached her calmly, slowly, and with clear movements until they were face to face. With just a look he told her all he wanted to do was help her.
Speaking has never been a part of her repertoire of skills. But for the first time, when Cass stared through that barrier, someone was looking back at her. Batman could read her almost as clearly as she could read him. And from that night on they would meet on rooftops to confide in each other about all that was weighing over their heads with nothing more than a glance.
The night he pulled back the cowl so he could look her in the eyes as he extended his hand marked the beginning of her childhood.
—--
After gentle coaxing from Bruce and a push from her new friend Barbara, Cass agreed to stay at the bat cave until she was able to find stable housing.
There was no need to live a life on the run anymore.
Cass laid in a corner of the cave that was made into a makeshift bedroom. The League made the dark and stonewalls feel like a prison. Now it felt like a home. Maybe the difference was because of Bruce. The glow of his computer and the clicks of his gadgets as he tinkered with them. Maybe it was the butler who stopped by a few times a day, refreshing her with his kindness and his expertly made teas.
And with every passing day she continued to wonder just what it was about the dingy, bat-ridden cave that felt like a home.
Months into her stay the answer came down the elevator with soft whispers and multiple footsteps. When she heard the swoosh of the doors opened followed by unfamiliar steps, her killer instincts took back control.
She moved through the dark undetected with blades silently pulled into the palm of her hand with her fingertips and had her eyes on the targets.
Four little boys in a straight line holding hands.
Cass stopped her descent, laying low on one of the cave’s many ledges. It was the perfect spot to survey as it kept all of them in her line of sight. There was no need to get any closer because of the acoustics the cave provided. Especially when she could hear them reminding each other to whisper from where she was.
Are you sure about this, Dickie? The one with a red shirt and racecar shoes asked the one leading the troop.
Yup! Dickie, she assumed, responded with a popped ‘p’.
Timmy and I figured it out so I know for sure she’s down here.
Now that made her crawl closer, pulling the throwing knives back into her palms and dropping down another ledge.
Did the League send them? Was she their first mission?
Looking at how small and young these boys are made her stomach turn. If they were here that meant their handler was nearby. Eliminating the handler would be the most efficient option with the least amount of casualties.
Her pounce lost momentum as the conversation continued.
It’s true! Alfie keeps cleaning and moving things around in the bedroom next to ours and he did that for me when I moved here. And he’s making even more snacks even when it’s not time for snacks yet. And he goes down here even when dad isn’t in here. And and-”
The boy with marker stains on his hands, who must be Timmy, debunked her theory of their association with the League. Instead his intelligence revealed a hidden door to Cass.
At the top of the elevator were the residents of Wayne manor she had been preparing herself to meet. She never even considered the possibility of those residents being children.
She didn’t realize there was a family living above her.
The knives guiltily returned to their sheath as she made her way one ledge closer down to the ground.
Yup! Their leader answered again as he was practically skipping, jumbling his brothers behind him as they continued to hold hands.
And dad asked me how I felt about getting another sibling! And every time he does that I get a new one. But this time he asked if I was okay with an older sister! Isn’t that so cool!
Cass watched as their expressions showed how excited they were from the news while all the air rushed into her lungs.
An older sister! Like Nani from that movie with the blue fluffy doggy? The boy with the red shirt practically yelled.
Whispering was long forgotten.
Doggy? The youngest of them questioned, innocently looking around for the animal. Cass couldn’t remember, if ever, the last time she interacted with children but she was certain that she had never met a toddler.
Stitch was only pretending to be a doggy, Dami, because he wanted to get adopted like us!
The intelligent one explained, but their youngest seemed too occupied in trying to find the dog everyone else seemed to see.
I’m glad we didn’t have to pretend to be a doggy to get adopted.
The red-shirt boy said, causing an eruption of giggles. Cass felt the corner of her lips twitch upwards.
Okay, okay! Dickie’s going to be a good leader one day. We have to find our sister! So let’s start by looking under all the tables because that’s a really good place to hide.
A familiar black caped figure landed in front of them before they continued their march. They were unfazed by the towering dark creature with pale white eyes staring down at them. The villain of the bedtime story all criminals told was greeted with the happy squeals of children. All four boys rushed into the curtain of the cape before muffled giggles filled the room.
Bruce pushed back his cowl before opening the curtains, letting them get their last laughs in before scrambling out. He kneeled down to their heights as he took off his gloves. Cass noted how important it was to him that both were off before interacting with his boys.
You are all very smart, so that means you know our very important rules about the cave. Bruce began and he said it so gently that it made Cass clench her fists.
Oh I know what they are! No cave without you and no cave without Alfie and no cave without shoes and… And we look with our eyes, not with our hands!
We’re sticking together though! See? Dickie held up the hand holding his brother’s before gesturing down the line where the link ended with the youngest.
Bruce could feel Cass’ amusement without even looking at her.
Thank you for following that rule, but I would like to know what made you break the other rules.
Their youngest looked up and locked his baby green eyes onto hers before they could answer.
Doggy!
The youngest yelled as he looked up, pointing and jumping to where she was. Whether or not it was luck, spotting Cass in the dark when she was making the effort to stay hidden was never going to be an easy feat. That boy really must’ve been looking for a dog.
The others looked up just like their brother but were still unable to spot her.
Give us one moment please, Bruce’s eyes told her. When he received a small nod from her he turned back to the boys, refocusing their attention on him.
Please tell me why you are in the cave. He said as a command instead of a question but still gentle all the same.
Because I wanted to show them our new big sister. Dickie said, his hand reaching up into his mouth to bite his nails.
Bruce redirected the movement to hold his hand in his.
Dick, I understand that you were excited and you wanted your brothers to meet her too. And I see there was a misunderstanding when I asked you how you felt about getting a sister, so I am sorry for that. I wanted to ask your brothers before introducing you all to her. You are not in trouble because I failed to tell you that, and it’s wrong for me to assume you wouldn’t tell your brothers yet.
Dick started to look down with a soft oh
Bruce took his chin between his pointer finger and thumb to lift Dick’s head again. It was important that Dick saw his face to make sure he knew he wasn’t angry.
However, all of you know better than to enter the cave without an adult. I made that rule to keep you safe and I need you all to follow it because I care about all of you, so keeping you safe is important to me. Alright?
Bruce looked to all his boys as they nodded. A mixed response of I’m sorry and I’m sowwy was all that was needed to move on.
Cass expected this to be the end of the moment, that this was the part where all the boys would go back up the elevator and Bruce would speak with her privately. Only Bruce moved, raising his ungloved hand to each of the boys, pushing their hair back to kiss their heads. The sight made her chest feel heavy.
Then Bruce looked up to her and slightly tilted his head down. She read it as if you’re up for it, they’d like to meet you.
Cass decided she was ready, but every move she made to meet them on the ground floor felt like she was going to land on a glass platform. Like the moment she landed on it shattered glass would fall over a family she’d already promised herself to protect.
No glass crunched under her feet when she landed.
Okay boys, I think introductions are in order. Do you remember the manners Alfred has been teaching you?
They all nodded, unable to contain their excitement when they were reminded why they came down in the first place.
Three out of the four boys rushed to meet her and ask questions at a speed that made their mouths blurry. Cass looked up from them to find Bruce but her eyes found the fourth boy tucked back into the cape with only a sliver of it open to peek through.
With a nod of approval she looked back down to them and waved. For some reason unbeknownst to her, it was enough for them to reign in their hyper energy.
Go on, boys. You know what to do. Bruce encouraged, his hand reaching down to hold the hand of the boy with racecar shoes.
Dick was the first to run up to her and grabbed her hand to pull her attention on him.
I have another name but you have to call me Dick, okay? I only like that one, so if you’re gonna be my big sister you have to use it okay? And I’m 9 and a half which is basically ten so that makes me a big kid now!
Cass felt another hint of a smile trying to reach her face again. Showing expressions or any other kind of definitive movements was a habit from the League she hasn’t put much effort into breaking yet.
But Dick was giving her such a big smile and was practically trying to climb her leg to greet her face to face. She took that hint and carefully kneeled down for them to be eye level with her.
Dick was the one who was so excited to meet her that he not only went against rules but he also brought his brothers with him to share that joy. So she did her best to let him know how much of a pleasure it was to meet him with a soft squint of her eyes and a nod. Dick read her loud and clear.
The next boy was the smart one. The one they called Timmy. He held out his hand to her in a formality she didn’t know children were capable of. She kept the same look on her face as she shook his small hand.
Hello, it is nice to meet you. The British accent disappeared as soon as it arrived.
I’m Timothy but I’m also like Dick because I want you to call me Tim. I’m 5 years old and - he cut himself off with a gasp - you’re a little brother now too Dick!
The observation pulled them into their own conversation about their ages.
Cass did not dwell on the sudden shift because it was the youngest greeting her next. And like the other boys, she was waiting for him to introduce himself.
The youngest was too mesmerized by her to say anything. Cass hesitated when he reached his hand out to cup her chin, attempting to copy what Bruce had done to Dick. He did it so gently and had the cutest little smile that she didn’t stop him.
He was the only one with green eyes. The green that’s haunted her all her life was now the green in the irises of a little boy eager to admire her up close.
Dick and Tim stopped their conversation when they noticed their younger brother holding Cass’ chin with one hand and petting the side of her head with the other.
Oh that’s Damian but he’s not good at saying his name yet. He’ll get there though. Tim explained with an unwavering faith behind his words.
Cass nodded along, doing her best to follow Damian’s hand still cupping her chin when he was lifted by Dick.
Come on, Dami, you can do it. You know your name because you’re smart. Dick encouraged with a praise they must hear often from Bruce.
Dami’s my name! Mine! Damian huffed and pouted, his focus now turning onto Dick just to glare. His pout deepened as Dick and Tim laughed at his claim.
When Bruce approached her she wanted to stand up straight to meet him, but she forgot there is one more boy she has yet to meet, so she kneeled back down. He was more out than in the cape with a tight grip on Bruce’s hand. The boy looked up at Bruce before looking back at her with a determined gaze.
Hello, it is nice to meet you. I’m Jason, and I’m six.
No training was needed to hear the nerves behind the stern confidence in his words. Jason held up six fingers to show her, even puffing his chest a bit. Cass nodded and made a show of counting each of his fingers before nodding again like the fact was confirmed.
Some of the unease left Jason’s shoulders and his curiosity returned. He looked up at Bruce with a smile to make sure he was still watching.
Cass finally stood up and let her arms lightly hug her midsection as all their eyes fell to her.
Boys, this is Cass and she will be staying with us for a while. I haven’t talked to her about having little brothers yet, so we will be giving her space in the meantime.
The nods Bruce received told him he would be reminding them of this request later, but he didn’t dwell on it.
You should say yes because it’s a lot of fun being the oldest one. You get to late bedtimes and less naps so we can be awake together! I already know lots of games we can play until our brothers wake up. Do you know how to do a handstand? You need to for one of the games. Dick said, grabbing her hand and practically jumping up and down with it.
The situation of her living in the manor was still complicated and unclear, however, that was Bruce’s job to discuss with them. So Cass continued to nod and use her eyes to express.
All four of them were asking her questions and telling her their thoughts. Enough of the uneasiness in the room melted away for Bruce to quickly change out of his suit, still within earshot range of them. The four of them were sitting in a makeshift circle on the floor when he returned.
How come you haven’t said any words yet? Does your throat hurt? Alfie can make you the tea with the honey in it instead of the sugar if your throat hurts.
Tim innocently asked with a small tilt of his head. Bruce leaned against the elevator doorframe as he and Cass discussed it across the room.
She decided this should be done herself.
It’s okay if you don’t like talking but do you like reading? Maybe we can just read stories together instead of talking. Jason suggested, trying to include her in the best way he knew how.
Her answer told Bruce more about her past, about her time in the League and on the run.
Being unable to speak, read, or write was a frustration Cass learned to accept. Bruce would be happy to provide her with everything she needed if she chose to gain those skills. There were already people in the house still learning to speak, read, and write themselves.
That train of thought was broken with a loud gasp from Dick.
I know what game we can play! He suggested as he sprung up to his feet.
When Cass shook her head to the suggestion all of the boys jumped up in an outrage. They took it upon themselves to teach the game to her, opting to show her rather than try to explain it.
Dick contorted into a hundred different shapes, using his turns as an excuse to flip and tumble as much as he could in the allotted time. Jason had the wildest ideas for whatever he chose to be and were often too specific for anyone to guess. Tim was the one who guessed the most correct answers, however, he was always too obvious with his hints for his turns to last long.
Then there was Damian. The rules were carefully explained to him many times and every time it was his turn he would inevitably make some sort of animal noise that gave him away. A tactic she realized meant for making his brothers laugh instead of winning the game.
Bruce stepped in to say that it was getting late and the boys needed to get ready for bed. With the pleas of his sons and the slow blink from Cass, he assured them that they would all meet again soon for Cass’ turn.
A children’s game of reading and guessing body languages was definitely one she could play.