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Cass its in the middle of the room, sweat dripping off of her hair as she pants. Music still plays, the loud thumps echoing throughout the dance room, but Cass feels too dizzy to continue. She takes a stuttering breath and looks at herself in the mirror, her paler-than-normal complexion making her eyebrows furrow. She take a deep breath before nervously reaching towards her glucose monitor that’s clipped on her waistband. She nearly took it off, especially since it kept weighing her shorts down, making her moves less graceful, but as the familiar chimes of the monitor ring out in the room, she’s glad she didn’t. The number it reads is far too low, and Cass bites her lip before preparing to stand up, planning on grabbing a juice box from the fridge that sits in the corner of the room, but the sudden nausea that rolls through her stomach makes her collapse back on the ground.
Cass screws her eyes shuts, willing the tears that are building in her ducts away, but before she can even let out a frustrated whine, a sudden, sharp pain bursts in her fingertips. Cass gasps, the pain catching her off guard both from confusion and shock. The pain slowly travels upwards, through her arms and bouncing to her legs. They feel tingly, much like it would feel before a seizure, she imagines, but she continues to lie still on the floor. Her breathing starts to stutter, her lungs feeling like they keep getting smaller and smaller the longer that she tries to take a deep breath. She tries to call out, but her voice doesn’t seem to be working, tears finally rolling down her cheek.
“He-elp!” She tries, but nobody responds. She lies on the floor, helplessness seeping into her veins as the pain takes over.
Minutes go by, but they feel like hours, maybe they were, but Bruce walks into the room, rushing to Cass’ side with worry written on his face.
“What’s wrong, is your blood sugar too high? Too low? What’s going on?” He asks, concerned. Cass merely whines in response, unable to form words. Bruce stays silent, allowing her to take her time.
“Hurts.” She finally pushes out. Bruce looks confused for a moment but he nods, as if understanding.
“Do you remember, the doctor said that you might get nerve damage, especially if you neglect your health.” Bruce gently reminds. Cass huffs sadly.
“I don’t like this.” She states miserably. Bruce nods.
“I know. Let’s get you some of your cream to help with the pain. We can call your doctor in the morning if it doesn’t let up.” Bruce soothes, leading her a hand to stand her up and holding her as she limps across the room. Damian sits outside of the door, staring at the two with an unreadable expression.
“Is Cassandra okay?” He asks hesitantly. Bruce smiles, trying to comfort the teen.
“She will be alright, she’s just getting used to her new diagnoses.” Bruce lays a gentle hand on Damian’s shoulder, who merely nods, unconvinced.
“Can I… help?” Damian wrings his hands together, nervousness exuding off of him in waves, making Cass feel guilty. She wants to comfort him, tell him everything is fine, help him like she normally does, but she can’t because she can barely keep herself conscious, let alone form a full sentence, and it makes her feel like the worst sister in the world. She’s supposed to be the one that never struggles and that always helps her siblings through whatever is happening in their life but… this time, she’s what’s happening in their life. It’s her that’s causing them to worry, and she doesn’t know how to deal with that. She’s supposed to be invincible, but now her own body is attacking her and she can’t even muster enough energy to give her baby brother a hug.
“Will you go tell Alfred to meet us up in her room?” Bruce requests after a moment. Damian nods, scurrying of, happy to have something to do, no matter how small, that might help his sister feel better. Bruce leads Cass up the stairs and to her room, carefully lowering her into her bed in a way that hopefully won’t cause her more pain. Cass winces as she readjusts herself into a more comfortable position, smiling when Alfred brings her a cup of juice.
“Thank you,” she rasps out, her eyes meeting Damian’s, who casts his gaze to the floor. Cass’ meek smile drops, concern instead taking over. “Little brother.” She says, shifting over as est she can in order to make room for him on her bed. Damian looks at her for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to take her up on her offer, before one side seems to win, Damian making his way across the room and crawling into her bed hastily. Cass wraps an arm around Damian, gently patting his shoulder. Bruce quietly leaves the two alone, going to talk to Alfred outside fo the door.
“You are in pain.” Damian states factually. Cass nods.
“That seems to so.” She answers. Damian hums.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers. Cass purses her eyebrows.
“You did nothing wrong. Why are you sorry?” She questions, confused.
“I cannot help.” Damian tries to explain, but Cass shakes her head.
“You are doing nothing wrong, baby brother. Nobody can help. My body is being mean… not you are anyone else.” Cass tries to comfort, but Damian doesn’t look happy about that.
“I want to help.” Damian states, worry and a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he’s frustrated and trying to get his point across. Cass hums.
“You help by being here.” She responds, nuzzling the top of his head in gentle affection. Damian huffs.
“That is not enough.” He says, as trying to disagree with Cass’ words. Said girl lets out a disappointed sound.
“You are always enough, do not think otherwise.” She huffs, glaring at Damian lovingly. Damian looks away from her, blushing.
“I just want you to be okay.” He admits quietly. Cass gives him a sad smile.
“I will be, baby brother. This is my new normal. It will all be okay.” She says, already feeling better not that she feels like she can help her siblings, even if she can physically fight for them as often as she could before, at least she can try and combat their insecure thoughts