Chapter Text
Cass slowly and carefully rewrites a word from a character's line that she particularly liked. Next to it is a word that she didn't understand. They are written in different colored pens because El is a cool adult. These are Dickie's words, not hers, but she agrees with the emotions he put into this phrase.
El is on the phone next to his own desk. He looks tense, tired, annoyed, but his voice is polite, helpful, understanding. Cass is used to his outward not matching his inner state. He's a good actor when he's doing his job.
She's part of his job. That's what El said. Bruce and Damian didn't say it, but she figured it out from their conversations with Na-ta-ni-el. That's El's full name, but she can't pronounce it, so he let her use the nickname. It's like Cass. It's cute, short, and comfortable. Cass is the name her loved ones call her. The dumb, too sure in their security people who sometimes come to the ballroom of their house use a different name. It's very long and a little complicated. Cass wants to learn how to say it because it's her name, a gift from her new family, but these people make her name sound stupid.
El ends the call and collapses wearily on the couch she's sitting on, his legs stretched out in a bright socks. He glances over at her work and smiles. She is his work, but he doesn't pretend when he's with her. At least, not as much as he does with others.
Cass points to a word written in red pen.
"What does pre-te-chi-s mean?"
His eyebrows raise slightly in amusement, and he leans towards her. Cass leans back, smiling, feeling as if they are sharing a secret, like with her siblings.
"Remember the stupid people at Mr. Wayne's party?" she nods, and his whisper becomes ostentatiously louder. "They're very pretentious."
They giggle together, and she goes back to reading her comic. It's easier than a book, and it's more fun to talk to El than it is to talk to people at the Center. Although she understands that the Center for the Disabled is not to blame for being run by bad people. She doesn't know how to point this out to Bruce because she doesn't know the names of these people, and she can't just bring them to Batman.
Maybe she'll ask El to help her. Cass already knows that he's somehow connected to people like her. She's seen his stiff gait, like from an injury, and the way he gathered himself like a snake before an attack as he escorted her to Alfred through the alley. He could help her find the bad people.
The wind chime on the door makes a pleasant sound, and Steph closes her notebook as she rolls her chair towards the entrance to the main area. She only has one visitor this early in the morning.
"Hi-i-i," Daniel twitches at the sound like a cat at a cucumber, and turns around, placing his hand on his chest. Every time is as funny as the first. "It's been a while, dude, I've missed you."
He takes off his mask, smiling awkwardly at her. "I'm sorry, I had a lot of work to do on my studies. I couldn't submit my report on time because of my part-time job, and you know how it goes."
She nods in understanding, straightening his bag where he’d dropped it: “The bathroom’s empty, you know where the light switch is.” He’s almost glowing at her words, leans in for a quick chu on the cheek and runs off, shouting, “You’re the best!”. Steph laughs.
Out of habit, she adjusts the screen in his favorite spot, while also rearranging the snacks in the mini-fridge next to it to make room for his energy drinks. It's a well-established, simple routine. Something inside her unclenches, even though she hadn't realized she was worried until that moment.
Daniel returns fifteen minutes later in full makeup. Steph reaches for the phone to capture this beauty, and he moans ostentatiously.
"Stephani-i-e"
"Di-e-el," she mimics, waving for him to come closer. He dutifully crouches down so they're at the same level, looking into the camera. His face is pouting, making the glitter on his cheeks more visible in the artificial light.
"You look sweet, honey"
"You always say that," D-el looks at his pocket mirror, wiping off the purple lipstick where she kissed him for the photo. He sounds embarrassed, which makes her giggle.
"That's because you're always cute."
He elbows her, not hard, but enough to make it tangibly, and pushes past her to his seat. She sits down at the next computer, stretching her hands.
"How about a run in Hades 2?"
"We start with it every time."
"Admit it, Melinoe is hot."
"And you know I prefer Thanatos."
They laugh in a familiar atmosphere as the game's intro plays. Stephanie feels herself relaxing after a long night of studying and working as Spoiler. Although they haven't known each other for long, this guy has a way of affecting her. There's something about him that is both gentle and warm, lifting the weight from her tired bones.
She really hopes that he feels just as safe around her.
Dick waits impatiently for the girl behind the counter to fasten a paper bracelet around his ankle, and when Alfie nods in confirmation, he rushes to the locker room and then to his favorite corner.
"Dottie!" The girl looks up from her phone and smiles when she sees him. She hurries out from behind the cart and opens her arms, and he jumps up and hugs her. They laugh together. "I missed you. Why weren't you here last week?"
Dorothy spins him around slightly before placing him on her hip, her smile turning slightly guilty and sad. "I'm sorry, kiddo, my second job got in the way."
Dick wants to pout, but his worry overrides his resentment. He didn't know she was working two jobs, but he should have thought about it - it's unlikely that running a candy stand in multiple entertainment centers provides her with a significant income. Especially in Gotham, with its frequent street robberies.
"Are you okay?" Her green eyes widen in surprise, but a second later they soften at the corners. Dorothy kisses him lightly on the forehead, and Dick chuckles involuntarily as she rubs her cheek against his like a big cat.
"I'll be fine, Dickie, don't worry about me. I'm sorry I made you feel this way," she says, and Dick laughs as she throws him up in the air and catches him, and he wonders how they didn't crash into her cart. It's a pretty impressive feeling of space.
"Miss Clare," Alfred finally approaches, having changed into more comfortable clothes for the sports center. He nods at the girl, and she smiles politely back. "I apologize for his behavior; master Richard has missed your company."
"Oh, nonsense, you know I love that little circus monkey," she throws him up again, but this time Dick lands on the floor. She leans against her cart, smiling as she points to the table. "I have a couple of new items for both of you, would you like to take a look?"
"I wouldn't do that, kid"
Jason falls with a loud "fuck" as a rickety fire escape step gives way under his weight. Kestrel hangs indifferently upside down from the railing, watching him. "You know I can hear you from here, right?"
"I don't want to shout for the whole street!"
If Jason was paid every time he argued about some ridiculous thing with a crime boss, he'd... Well... It wouldn't be much, but a couple of years ago, he could buy enough food to last a couple of days with that money. A week, if he was really careful.
Kestrel does a showy backflip, settling next to him on the roof. He looks terribly bored, which continues to annoy him in the background, but Jason wouldn't have survived so long on the streets if he let his anger control him.
"Did you bring me something, or did you just come to distract me from my patrol? Because I really have a lot to do, little one."
Jason doesn't let himself snort, but he's inwardly sticking his tongue out at the vigilante. A lot to do. At this point, he already knows that most of the Red Hood gang works together like clockwork, even without their boss. Even if they don't know they're working without a boss, because everyone sees the Red Hoods as the boss, not, well, the Kestrel, who's like the gray eminence? Jason's not as interested in medieval history; he's more drawn to the twentieth century.
"Kid. Information"
Kestrel flicks his nose like a child, and Jason swats his hand away, frowning. He can't see it under the mask, but he's sure the man is grinning.
"Well, Mira from Third Street told me that Cameron..."
One of the few nice things about this guy is that he actually listens. Jason used to have a hard time noticing this: Kestrel wears a full-face mask in addition to his gray hooded jacket, and his body language is extremely reserved. He looks like a porcelain doll, just as still and colorless.
But now Jason knows that Kestrel is not a statue, but a frozen mainspring that is ready to snap at any moment. That he listens and remembers everything that is said to him, even the smallest details. That he can be very expressive without his mask, but with it, he feels the need to control himself to an absurd level.
"I got it, we'll get it taken care of in a couple of days. Thanks for being so attentive," the guy reaches out to ruffle his hair, but Jason dodges in time, pulling his red hood over his head. Kestrel snorts, the sound filled with amusement. "You're boring."
"You're fucking funny, though," he cringes at his own aggressive reaction, but the vigilante doesn't react, standing up and stretching. He almost does a backbend, arching his back. Fucking show-off.
"Be careful, little one. And give my regards to your big brother!"
The Kestrel laughs at his grumbling and escapes on its grappling hook towards the next house, continuing his patrol.
Little bastard. He knows that Jason would never reveal his connection to a crime boss, but he says it anyway.
The shitty part is, he will find out if Jason doesn't pass the word. And they both know there will be consequences.
He groans, hiding his face in the hood. Jason doesn't want to explain to Bruce again what he was doing alone at the port, at a gang meeting, without a costume or backup. That asshole is too good at photography and photoshop.
"Jason told me you sent me a hello"
Teo stands up abruptly, apparently forgetting where he is, and hits the top of his head on a beam. He lets out a groan, more out of frustration than pain. Damian still leans down to kiss it better anyway. Out of courtesy.
His not-quite-boyfriend looks up at him with a kind of knowing but flirtatious grin, but a second later his expression changes to curiosity and hunger as he reaches for the bag that Damian had brought with him.
"Is this Alfred's cooking? Please tell me it's Alfred's cooking."
Teo, being a mere mortal, is absolutely enamored with their butler's cooking. However, this is a debatable statement, as even Wonder Woman appreciated the food at their celebratory dinner. Damian nods, placing two bags on a small table in the middle of the room, and descends to retrieve the third.
When he returns, the main lamp has been replaced with a string of warm yellow lights that illuminate the entire attic. Teo has already set out the plates and is examining the food in the containers that he has not put in the mini-fridge. He looks like an excited puppy.
Damian says so, sitting down on the carpet next to him, and gets a disapproving look. Teo slaps his hand away when he reaches for the potatoes and mushrooms, and puts them in the fridge as well, instead taking out the rice and hot sauce.
"You usually avoid spicy food," Teo shrugs, adding more sauce to his plate than to his own. He's already turned on his laptop, downloading a movie. Damian has no idea how he got Wi-Fi to work in a random attic in a bad neighborhood, but he's learned not to question his not-quite-boyfriend's methods.
It goes against his training as a bat, but there's something about this man... Something painfully known, almost familiar, that makes him feel safe. Damian can only hope that his intuition won't fail him.
"Have you heard anything about a new musical based on the Odyssey?"
Damian feels his eye twitch involuntarily.
"Not you too. Please, Theodore, no"
"Only for the full name, yes, Damian, we'll watch this musical. I'm tired of you not understanding the reference."
"Richard was trying to get Jason and me to watch it with him. If you show me those videos now, he'll be devastated."
This makes Teo smile, but at the same time, he rolls his eyes, amusment.
"You'll think of something, Little Prince. Don't play a fool."
He suppresses a sigh. Damian could close the download tab in a second? but the boy in front of him looks so curious and relaxed, which doesn't always happen, even when they're alone. So he suppresses as well his frustration, learned distrust, and concerns about the future.
Teo's right, he'll figure something out. It's not the first time.