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Cass hadn’t thought when she saw Steph, no mask and eyes wide with panic. She hadn’t thought about the danger and risk she was putting her family in with the split second decision she made.
In a moment, almost too late, Cass pulled her mask off and placed it over Steph’s face. She got one good look at the horror in her best friend’s eyes before a cloud of fear gas rose in the room around them, engulfing the team.
Her mind spun and Cass made another decision, one that will probably get her benched for who knows how long. Cassandra Cain, trained assassin, seconds away from being consumed in instinct driven fighting, ran.
When the gas faded, Cass was gone, her tracker and comm lying on the ground where she stood once.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Hands were never nice to Cassandra as she was growing. They punched, slapped and pulled at her hair, a form of discipline that she was raised on.
Cassandra Cain was expected to sit with not a hint of movement as the man who called himself her father rained abuse over her, weapons such as knives and bullets never sparing her.
When she endured nightmares, Cassandra would still herself then also, perfectly peaceful to any watching eyes as she warred with scenes of horrific gore behind her eyelids.
It had been Bruce who had helped break down the conditioning she faced. He spoke to her in a kind tone, patient with her slowed speech and moments of comatose like days where all she could do was stare blankly at the walls.
At every turn where she had expected punishment, all she got was kind but firm words. Every time she braced herself for a blow, Bruce would place his hands on her shoulders and lower himself to face her, never forcing her to feel small or lesser than him.
His body language never opposed his words, truth finding itself in every expression of praise and tender loving.
Which is why it was so, gutterally agonizing, to see the bullet wound burst from Bruce’s forehead.
Cass stumbled back, eyes locked onto the hole in her fathers head, small and dribbling blood. Bruce stood there, frozen, eyes wide. That was until he went crashing down, eyes blank and mouth opened slightly.
Words echoed around Cass, ones she couldn’t decipher as static consumed all sound. She could hear a sick laugh reverberating in the warehouse when had they been in a warehouse her father had just died in. Eyes flicking around, unfocused with a mind numbing and all consuming fear, Cass could only make out streaks of black, shadows running just out of view.
Blood crawled itself all the way from Bruce’s wound to her boots, a chokingly familiar sight.
“You’re nothing but a weapon.” The muttering, chanting voice grows clear, static giving way to a voice that’s reminiscent of her father. “This is your fault, this wouldn’t have happened if you just obeyed me in the first place.”
Cass’ chest hurts from the rapid beating of her heart, the breaths she’s dragging in and out of her lungs not delivering the oxygen her brain needs to just think.
A movement under her catches her attention, a shuddering jolt from the body– from Bruce under her, arms thrashing.
Crashing down to her knees, Cass’ hands hover over his body, unsure of what to do, unsure of if she can do anything. Her head moves to look around at the space, eyebrows furrowing when what meets her isn’t the inside of a warehouse, but a bare white room with an observatory window. Her head looks back down and Bruce is gone, any trace he was there removed.
Standing on shaky legs, Cassandra cautiously approached the window, peering through the pristine glass.
The scene was set, and Cass recognised the space as Barbara’s apartment. Her eyes caught on a familiar red headed woman, but when her face came into view, Cass saw she was younger. It was like the photos on the manor walls that she liked to admire, committing every one of her loved ones faces to memory.
Cass’ hands pressed against the cool glass, a feeling of dread making itself known through her heartrate. She had a feeling even if she tried to make herself known, Barbara wouldn’t be able to see her.
Bab’s head raised in reaction to a sound Cass wasn’t able to hear, and the woman rose to her feet on steady legs. That gave Cass pause, the roiling in her gut increasing as the scene gave way to a memory.
Barbara, hands pausing on her keyboard, mouth pressed into a thin line, finally turned her head to meet Cass’ eyes. “I wasn’t in the Batgirl costume when I was paralysed.”
Cassandra could do nothing as she watched her friend, the woman who Cass would consider a mother to her, slowly approach her front door. It was sickening, the way her body froze in place like it always did, how words refused to leave her lips, not even to warn her friend, her mother.
No sound emitted from the room as Barbara opened the door, only the expression of evil from the man Cass knew was on the other side of the door.
BANG-
The deafening noise split the silence in half, shattering the glass as it sprayed across Cass’ face. When her eyes opened from their natural instinct to close, there was no wall or room left, just Barbara lying, bleeding out.
Cass’ knees once again collided with the floor as she reached for Barbara’s shirt. The older woman was groaning in pain, body spasming as tears poured from her face.
Ripping the fabric of Barbara’s shirt, Cass pressed the scraps down and onto the wound in her stomach. However, as she pressed the wound, trying to stem the blood, the hole seemed to grow larger and larger until it was a gaping hole in her torso, swirling black and silver. It had grown big enough for Cass to fall through, bigger than Barbara’s stomach.
The colour entranced her, like it was mocking or tempting her. Her body grew sluggish and Cass couldn’t move her hands from where they hung over the abyss. A gentle calling drew her closer, a voice that she trusts, like a siren's song.
A prick in her neck had Cass flinching, but her body fell into freefall as she easily tipped into the swirls of darkness.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Cassie?” A gentle voice coaxed Cass out of the panic that claws at her throat. Her body aches and she realises, with a twitch of her body, that she’s tightly curled into a ball.
Head tilting up through bleary vision, Cass finds herself face to face with Barbara. A flash of red and the shot of a gun has memories of her nightmare in full display in her head.
The pressure in Cass’ throat was too much at the moment. Talking wasn’t something she could do in this state, so Cass just settled for leaning forward to press her head against Barbara’s knee, eyes closing.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Her soothing voice echoed in the air, cracking the silence. The deafening, dread filled silence. Cass never wanted to hear silence like this again.
Cass felt a familiar resolve push and pull at her heart. She would never be silenced, not again.
Opening her mouth, cracked and dry lips pressed against the fabric of Barbara’s pants. “Babs.”
Her voice was quiet, but it was there.