Work Text:
WEEK 7 Cassandra Cain
Holiday (New Year's Eve)/Charity Gala, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Bonus Prompt: Proposal
Gotham - Charity Gala at the newly renovated, Wayne Manor (end of No man's Land)
During no man's land, Cassandra couriered messages between the Oracle aka Barbara Gordon, and Alfred, the gentleman's gentleman, she’d travelled the length and breath of Gotham city.
From the Gotham Harbour where Hunters ruled, to Robinson Park where Ivy was contained, cultivating flowers, producing fresh food for the city forming some kind of understanding with Batman.
To the other parts - Gotham river to WatchTower, of the Gotham police - the Blue Boys and the Justice building, where TwoFace held a mockery of court.
She used the rooftop highway as Dick - NightWing called it. Cassandra had walked the streets, climbed fire escapes, and balconies and hidden dumpsters. Cass was familiar with every alcove, out cropping and gargoyle, to hide, to protect her from the cold or the rain. Except Wayne Manor.
Not during the Wake of Barbra’s step-mother. The opening of the borders, removal of the mines.
But tonight she was here. As a guest of Barbara Gordon at the first Gala after the opening of the borders, Gotham was no longer No Man’s Land. Gotham was part of a country again.
A lot changed in one year since the earthquake. Cassandra had a name. She went by Cass as well.
Cass belonged to the Batfamily, and all that went with it. She was no longer jealous of Barbara and her father, as she had one of her own, in Alfred.
Cassandra could talk. Which was also nascent. She sounded like a toddler, all grunts and tonal sounds with no volume control.
Her speech sounded wrong to her own ears.
Learning to talk can be very difficult for a person who’s deaf from birth or became deaf at a very early age. Cass, was neither.
Cass rubbed her forehead at the memory. At the sound of her attempts at speech.
No one made fun of her.
Not by word.
Not by gesture.
But micro-expressions of pity leaped through. Cass saw it and couldn’t unsee it.
No one understood her, saw her, as she did them.
Cass watched Barbara Gordon - amazingly beautiful, smart, independent, empathetic and even though kind of differently abled, holds her own well against all the warlords during no man's land.
She laughed, her red hair catching the twinkle lights of the high ceiling. She shoulders shook, eyes crinkled prettily at some joke Dick, the first robin made.
Class couldn't hear them over the noise of the crowd, she could see genuine in Barbara's green eyes. A wave of possessiveness flashed through her body, followed by shame.
Barbara deserved this bit of happiness. A New Year, new beginnings and old friends.
Cass shook her head as she turned her back to the room, walked down the corridor leading from the ball room, and Barbara to the veranda and the garden beyond.
She was stopped short by someone leaning against the railing above the steps. A girl. About her age, dressed in dark blue gown, a cape flowing from her regal back and a hood, down, resting on slim muscled shoulders.
Cassandra instantly recognised her posture. She was Raven. The only one able to travel at will to Gotham and then back to the outside world.
Cassandra had only met her twice. The first time was when she transported Nightwing to the ClockTower. Then later, the female superhero approached her. A hand on her shoulder compassion in her indigo eyes.
Even though she didn't turn in greeting, Cassandra could read body language. Raven knew she was here. Perhaps Raven was giving Cassandra the option of joining her or to ignore her and move on to the garden. Bye for lonesome.
The sounds of the party, of the crowds behind them dimmed. Cassandra wasn't sure how, but without her saying a word, Raven knew how Cass felt. Again she was considering her feelings - of being lost in the crowd. People asked her questions and she was too self-conscious of the sounds she made, to answer.
Without turning, Raven tapped one block heel clad foot. Demonstrating her impatience. Make a choice, Raven’s gesture said. And that made Cassandra smile.
She looked wistfully at Raven. And at the maze beyond her shoulder.
Raven uncrossed her bare arms, the midnight cape moved on its own, to cover her shoulder, a protection from the chilly night air as Raven walked towards the garden.
“Follow me,” she whispered. The words were unnecessary, Cass understood her perfectly without them. But perhaps this was Raven signalling the end of non-verbal communication.
Cass considered for a moment.
She was out of place at the Manor, the event, in her A line, loose fitting Qipao Chinese style black dress with a long slit on the side for mobility. The black floral print attire covers her chin to wrist to ankle. And yet she fells exposed.
With nothing better to do than follow, Cass works her way to Raven slowly, testing the uneven ground under the grass in her ballet flats.
Raven didn’t look back, yet Cass could see that the moment she joined Raven at the Woden bench at the mouth of the maze, she was going to be forced to talk.
“Don’t,” Raven said.
“What?” Cass whispered, modulating her voice to fringe innocence. And inwardly cringe at the sound she made. Her voice an unruly bark in the quiet night.
Her lip quivers.
Cassandra knows how to mouth the words. She practised lip movements in front of a mirror with Barbara standing behind as a guide. Cass can lip read. She has no difficulty understanding language anymore.
At Raven’s unimpressed expression, Cass takes the gesture for what it is. A reprieve.
Raven is making a concession. The conversation won't be wholly verbal!
Before she knows it, Cassandra laughs.
A sound of pure joy leaves her mouth. It transcends all language and even to it. Her own critical years, it is full of happiness.
The sound of Raven’s surprised laughter joins her own. Creating the most beautiful music that only the living can create.
Cassandra can see it in Raven’s eyes. A couple of things hit her in quick succession.
(1) The world continued to turn while Gotham was shrouded as no man's land. And it probably wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.
(2) Raven herself has been through some stuff.
(3) And yet here Raven is, with her presence, asking after Cassandra. Caring about Cass’s well-being.
Cassandra can feel her smile about to dim. And while the laughter dies down, she catches herself. No matter what has happened. It is her choice to be happy. To be a hero.
She continued on, following Raven to the bench in then empty Garden.
By the time, she sat down beside Raven, she had the distinct impression that the garden was not empty, or deserted by chance.
Raven raised her brow. And almost, what of it?
Cassandra raised her hands in the air, in surrender.
That got a silent laugh out of Raven. Her dark brows quivering.
It seemed to Cassandra every time Raven smiles or laughed, she was surprised by her capacity to still do so. What happened in the outside world, Cassandra thought not for the first time tonight?
Ravan shook her head in response, loosing a curl, covering Half her face, the half that was towards Cassandra.
Wishing you it, her fingers were raising her bronze skin, pushing the curl behind her hair, and then behind Raven's shoulder, revealing ocean eyes, winded a fraction.
Cassandra almost leaped back on the bench. Contrite. Flabbergasted at her own thoughtless boldness.
Raven size crinkled in amusement, surprise leaving her face. It was almost Maternal her expression. No Cassandra corrected herself. It was sisterly.
Raven waved her hand in the air as of sweeping the incident as unimportant.
Tell me,” she said. Her voice held an ethereal hypnotic quality. Inviting Cassandra to confide in her.
Something tickled at the back of her brain for a moment, Cassandra chewed her lip, indecisiveness seizing her vocal cords.
Cassandra had the impression that if she didn't answer now, she’d never have the chance again.
Ravan wouldn't press her to open up.
And so she did.
She tried to explain through words, and then when the idea couldn't be put into words, through gestures and mining everything she’d been, still was feeling.
The things she felt for her guardian and her mentor, Barbra Gordon.
How she’d cried when she fled her father. Who only wanted her to kill. How lost Cass had been, nameless and voiceless. trying to find her sense of morality after being a murderer.
How Barbra took her in.
Named her.
Fed her.
Gave Cass a mission she could be proud off.
Raven nodded, telling her she understood. Cass looked at the dark haired beauty and she felt, Raven really did understand.
Cass frown a moment. She was having difficulty articulating how she chose Barbara’s father, protected Commissioner Gordon with her own body, over her father. Confronting her father, the assassin - David Cain.
And now here they were, Barbara, beautiful and laughing, inside celebrating with guests, and Cass, Raven listing as she poured all the anguish of loving her friend, her mentor, the one who taught her to trust. To love, who smiled at her in the most Maternal way, while Cassandra was in love with her.
How she felt lost in a new world, yet again. And how ashamed she was missing, nostalgic for no man's land, a time when so many had suffered as anarchy and lawlessness ensued.
It was a pity, Raven thought, Barbara isn't here to hear Cassandra pour her heart out. Anyone with an ounce of sense would mind their own business.
Right?
But then, when it came to feelings, no one was logical or smart. And empathy, the ability to feel what others feel is voyeuristic in itself.
It wasn't the first time Raven had felt this need to help others. She leaned in with her unique senses and could feel rising sense of affection. They could be happy. And I am not going to restrain myself when I can bring a bit of joy into the world.
Raven, the strongest empath in the known universe was about to have some voyeuristic fun.
Cassandra was too busy in her own head to see the glimmer of satisfaction in Raven’s eyes.
Barbara Gordon - Oracle, was the original BatGirl. Unlike the Robbins, she chose the mantle without permission.
Barbara understood the power of Batman. After her father made it clear he wouldn't allow her join the police. She chose to take up the bat symbol, protect her city her way.
And regardless of her actions as a masked vigilante, Barbara Gordon lost her legs. She lost her city to blown bridges and Apache helicopters - not to protect the citizens, but to stop anyone from leaving.
Barbara lost her lover - NightWing, it was mutual, but still. And finally, her stepmother sacrificed herself to save the world. The Gotham part of it.
When Raven ferried Nightwing, the other Robins into Gotham, she got a good read on the Oracle.
Barbara Gordon may not be Batman, but her aura and energy was close to being as dark. And Raven wanted to save the original BatGirl from that abyss.
And now, Raven felt confident in making it so.
Raven, having decided to play Cupid wasted no time.
Raven cast out her senses, found Barbara Gordon. Her blue eyes darting around the room. Raven felt confident in presuming the redhead was searching for her, Protégé.
“I have a proposal.” An astral projection of Raven, that looked very much like the real thing, said to Barbara.
“Proposal?” She’d almost dropped her drink in surprise. But recovered quickly.
Raven using the table behind Barbara Gordon as support, she ignored a few drops of punch on the satin fabric, preserving the former BatGirl’s dignity.
Regardless of the strategy used, it’s vital Barbara Gordon be unsteady. There was no morality in matters of love and war. And she knew how to deal with her.
She opened the Oracle’s mind to the possibility of happiness. Shielding her from all the negative thoughts. What if’s like, failure and loss.
“Remember the last time I was at the ClockTower.”
Barbara nodded, browse creasing in confusion on where this was going.
“I had occasion to meet a beautiful girl.”
Barbara, stop nodding and frowned harder.
Ravan was satisfied by the feelings, eliminating from the seated woman.
“What was her name?” Raven pretended to think about it, waving a hand in the air, as if to catch the thought.
“Casey?”
“Cassandra” Barbara said a firm, no nonsense, tone.
“Ah yes, Cass.” She waved her hand pointing towards Cassandra, who on Raven’s urging for a drink, was entering the ballroom.
Heading towards the table, ladened with food and drink. Heading towards Barbara and the astroprojection that was Raven.
Barbara, once her eyes snagged Cassandra, walking sure and graceful across the room, Raven was forgotten.
Target acquired.
The astral projection fell, dissolved into air.
Leaving the lovers, alone in the crown, a phenomena, a magic exclusive to those in love, allowing nature to take its course.