Chapter Text
When she lay in a pool of her own blood, she begged anyone who listened. Please, I don’t want to die like this. I have to save my family. I can’t just die like this!
Then she was waking up in a filthy alley, huddled against a brick wall, a small dagger clenched in her hands. She took a few moments to figure out what was going on, but she realized that she was a young teenager again. Her hands were callused and tough, but missing some scars she remembered getting when she was an adult. She was just a little shorter than she remembered being, missing calluses on her feet from hours of ballet practice.
She simply sat there for some time, thinking things through in silence as she usually did. From where she sat, the town square looked different from how she remembered. The clock tower of the church still stood tall, and the memorial statue on the fountain was simply a generic angel pouring from a pot, not the detailed rendering of the Black Knight slaying the Crimson Dragon.
It seemed that she had traveled back in time. Somehow. She recognized the dagger in her hand. She had left behind everything from David Cain, and had stolen this dagger from a pickpocket that same night. If she was doing her calculations correct, then she was within a year of running away. She had gone to the Northern Lands to avoid most of Lord al Ghul’s assassins, as they would have tried killing or capturing her. Supposedly, David Cain feared the Wayne Clan’s influence enough that he would only enter the Northern Lands on rare occasions.
Two people passed the alley, and she could clearly hear the sentence, “Has no one any leads on Lord Jason’s disappearance?”
Oh. Oh! She surged to her feet, mind racing. It was that time. Jason had disappeared after arguments with Bruce, and Bruce had gone all out in his fearful search for his son. After a month, they had found his mutilated body in a barn just a few miles from the Wayne estate. The Jester had taken credit for the foul act safely from the capital, thus weakening the Waynes’ reputation with the nobility and thus the annual support for monster hunts. Timothy had joined the estate after that, almost dying on multiple hunts before Stephanie forced her way in and helped with her magic.
She knew that her own abilities had lent to success during the monster hunts, then victory after Bruce had slain the Crimson Dragon. With the Dragon King dead, there was a much-sought after time of peace, during which Bruce could focus on the nobles and criminal empire that were trying to encroach on their territory.
Focus , she told herself. Thinking of the glory days of her family could come later. Right now, she needed to start moving. She cleared her throat and tried to say something, but no noise would come out. In the last life, she hadn’t been able to speak until Timothy had used his healing magic in several sessions to repair her severed vocal cords. So she could assume that nothing from the previous life remained, except for memories. She could possibly try writing to Bruce to tell him where Jason was being held, but she had no guarantee that any letter would reach him. He had been traveling all over the Northern Lands and petitioning nearby lords to let him search.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She wasn’t sure how long it was before the Jester killed Jason, but she knew where the barn was. Jason had come back to the Northern Lands as a Revenant four years after his murder, and after several months had joined the Wayne Clan again. On one reconnaissance mission, Jason had shown her the location of the barn, although it had been razed and the ground surrounding it sown with salt. She could remember where it was even now. If she hurried, she might make it there in time to save her brother.
The barn was somewhat derelict, having been abandoned when the nearby settlers gave up on the wild forest and left for villages. She could hear laughter from inside, even several yards away behind the trees. A shudder went down her spine as the insane laughter built into a crescendo.
The door was open a bit, and she easily slipped inside through the shadows cast by the lantern light. Jason had never described to her what had happened, and she could understand why. Blood was splattered across the packed dirt floor. A teenaged Jason was on the ground, breathing harshly through broken ribs. The Jester stood over him, bent in half from laughing.
She stood there in the shadows, suddenly paralyzed by indecision. Bruce had willingly killed monsters for most of his life, and had taken pride in protecting his people by doing so. He had never killed humans though, and encouraged his family to do the same. He believed that killing humans would make him little better than the monsters he’d killed, and prove all the nobles right in their rumors about the Monstrous Northern Duke. She had killed only once, forced to by David Cain, then gladly followed Bruce’s rule.
But… this was the Jester. He tortured and killed Jason. He tortured and mentally broke Timothy. He had sabotaged them on multiple occasions and caused the death of so many knights. She didn’t understand fully why he had done all of this, other than he apparently was insane. After all that he had done, could he really be considered human? Was he any better than the monsters she had cut down with no hesitation?
“Which hurts more, little Wayne?” the Jester suddenly asked, raising a metal rod into the air over his head. “Backhand or forehand?”
And her mind was made up in an instant. She had dashed across the floor, leapt onto his back, and drawn her dagger across his throat. His words died in a choking spurt of blood as he slowly slumped to the ground. She would not let him hurt her family anymore.
Why was she having trouble breathing? Why was her eyesight blurry? Why were her hands shaking? She recognized it was an anxiety attack. But why ??? He was a monster! He deserved to die, if anyone! She shouldn’t be reacting like this!
“Cass?” a voice croaked.
A hand touched her leg. Cass recognized the hand as belonging to Jason. And somehow, it gave her something to focus on. His hand was swollen and bloody, obviously broken in multiple places. But he was still worried about her, trying to make sure she was okay after killing his torturer, his almost-murderer. Her tears dropped down onto his hand as she knelt and gently touched his shoulder.
Little brother? She signed to him.
He smiled crookedly, blood trickling down his cheek. “Thank the gods,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m not the only one who traveled back.”
Cass nodded quickly, and started tearing and cutting any cloth she could find into bandages. She found the Jester’s cloak nearby, and took some quiet glee in using it to wrap Jason’s ribs as best she could. Her hands still trembled and she could feel a tightness in her chest, but she had a purpose now, and could move past the immediate problem.
Not for the first time, she wished she had Timothy’s healing power, or even Thomas’ ability to travel through shadows. She could have transported them in small journeys to the Wayne Estate. Stephanie’s ability to whisper messages to those close to her would be useful, or Damian’s familiar Goliath… Her siblings were always so much more useful than her. The ability to manipulate air into weapons was completely useless here!
Jason groaned as she pulled too tight on a splint for his left leg. She yanked her hands back, then signed Sorry repeatedly. Her breath stuttered in her chest.
“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging her sleeve. She didn’t at first, knowing that he needed medical help. “I’ll be fine for a while. Come give me a hug. I missed you.”
Cass finally laid down next to him, wanting to wrap her arms around him, but settling for clenching her fists in his tunic. He awkwardly moved his right arm, severely bruised but not broken, around her shoulders and simply held her there. She forced herself to match his breathing, wheezing though it was. She could feel herself calming down.
Then she heard horses’ hooves pounding on the ground. She was on her feet in an instant, blade pointed towards the door. She was too small, and wouldn’t be able to pull Jason to a hiding place.
Then the door burst apart in a blaze of black fire.
She dove to the side to avoid it, covering Jason with her body.
She knew the flames and their creator, but she was aware that Bruce was likely not fully in his right mind at this point. The terror and rage he was feeling would be overwhelming his sense of caution.
“Bruce, stop it!” Jason screamed, trying to sit up. “You’re gonna hurt Cass!”
The flames evaporated in an instant, leaving a ringing silence. Bruce, in full armor, stalked forward into the barn, glittering silver sword raised high. “Come out and face me, you maggot-ridden bastard!”
“Bruce, stop it,” Jason coughed out. “He’s dead.”
“What?” Bruce froze, then took in the scene. The Jester dead on the ground. Jason, bandaged and injured. Cass, slapping out the flames on the back of her pants.
“Jaylad, you’re… you’re…”
“I’m alive. I’m not a Revenant.”
Bruce’s eyes filled with tears, and he fell to his knees next to them, his armor making an unholy racket. “Cass, sweetheart, you came back in time too? And Jason? You both did?”
Cass flung herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around her neck and bursting into tears. Bruce held her in one arm, his other trembling hand on Jason’s shoulder. For now, at least, the past had changed, and Cass’ family was safe.