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Stephanie swears she can see her when she closes her eyes.
It wasn’t like this before. Of course, she always knew Cass was with her in the night, like some undead subconscious shadow that wrapped a strong arm around her while saying things like “If something’s not working, change it. Make it work for you” and “You can do this” and “Nice job” (Stephanie doesn’t want to think of how much Cass’s praise meant to her, not now).
And yet, Stephanie’s brain has never been so hopelessly tangled up in Cass and the promise of her presence, especially not while she’s actively nodding off into dreamland.
Cassandra. Batgirl. It’s like…she’s a song that’s repeating over and over in her brain, a thorn from a rose bush stuck in her finger, or a bramble pricking deeper into her psyche. Every time Stephanie shuffles or turns in her bed, Cass snags back into what should be an empty head. An empty heart.
But Cass is there when she closes her eyes, waiting, always waiting, patiently within that blanket of darkness. Stephanie doesn’t quite know whether to be comforted by it—and her—or not. Not anymore.
“Friends don’t turn their backs on each other,” Stephanie said, after Cass had essentially thrown all trust for her out the window.
Well, great. But Cass is still here, in the space between dreams and reality. And if they aren’t friends anymore, maybe they’re something else.
Stephanie feels her cheeks spark alight with heat as her heart ticks faster. Out of loneliness, anger, frustration, or something else—she just doesn’t know. Or maybe she knows way too well.
She rolls over to stick her head under her pillow, to finally shake Cass from her mind. That’s never been her strong suit.
Somewhere distant, Stephanie vaguely knows that she is dreaming.
She’s dreaming because she’s stretched out over a gargoyle in her unmasked spoiler suit, with an also unmasked, wide-eyed Cass looking at her like she’s the most astounding thing in the city. Like she has so much to learn from Stephanie.
(As if Cass isn’t the Batgirl. As if Cass couldn’t knock Steph back into the dark with a single hit to the jaw. As if Cass went from thrashing villians to laughing around her, like they were both easy.)
Stephanie feels herself tense, her eyes blinking rapidly. Cassandra scoots an inch closer and looks at her expectantly, like she’s waiting for Stephanie to explain something that she didn’t get to finish.
It’s Cass who ends up speaking first.
“You left me,” She said, sounding crushed but not surprised. Cass said that in a tone that Stephanie never heard her speak in before.
Cass sounded completely defeated.
Cassandra inhaled shakily, and Stephanie tried not to express her surprise at how totally unsteady Cass had just become.
“I thought we were…that we became…friends. I thought we…could stay that way.”
Cass didn’t falter when she spoke again. She marched on like knight trudging through a snow storm. “Do you think…I’m too…” Cass flicked her eyes downwards while trailing off, trying to find the best word to end her question.
Oh, geez. “Batgirl—“
Cass interrupted her, her voice softer this time. Like Cass was ashamed.
“Was I…a bad friend? That was why you…left me on that roof…right?” Cass said the word bad like it would turn right around and bite her.
And, despite how mad she was, how betrayed she felt, Stephanie couldn’t help but hate herself a little. Because of her, Batgirl of all people was reduced to unsteady words and broken promises, with shame dimming that determined brightness in her eyes.
Cassandra thought that she was just bad, that she’d failed Stephanie in a way she probably hadn’t even considered she could fail anyone at. Because no one gave her that chance.
For the thousandth time in her life, Stephanie wondered if Batgirl had any friends to talk to. Real friends, ones that didn’t assign missions from the dark or talk through hidden microphones. She knows how bad that loneliness gets. And she definitely didn’t need to be as skilled as Batgirl to know that taking up a mask at night doesn’t do your social life any favors.
Stephanie just let out a shaky exhale in return and kicked her legs out. “No…no, I mean, not exactly. Like, nobody’s perfect, I guess. It’s just…you—“
Stephanie cut herself off and looked down. She couldn’t see the concrete ground through the dark. “I don’t know.” God, Stephanie hated how unsure she felt.
Cass moved closer and looked up at Stephanie earnestly, never one to back down. “Hey…you can tell me. I…wanna know.”
And suddenly the feeling of betrayal and the memory of being left so…so alone comes rushing back to her, all at once. Stephanie slammed her eyes shut and scooted away minutely, clinging to whatever distance to the bat she could get, just for her own sanity.
Cass reached out to gently touch her inner arm, a mirror of how Stephanie used to clasp her shoulder. Even in the face of everything, Stephanie couldn’t make herself shake off Cass.
“Why…do you…keep moving away from me?” Cassandra whispered it like it was some dark secret that kept her up at night. Cass’s bangs fell into her eyes from the questioning way she was tilting her head. Stephanie resisted her instinct to brush Cass’s bangs out of her eyes, the way she’d sometimes clear the hair from her own view after cheerleading practice.
The hand on her arm felt heavy. Stephanie could feel her resolve start to crack under its weight.
“Look, Cass, I can’t do this, not right now. It’s just—you’re so good, you’re the best. And from the way you’ve been treating me it’s…you obviously don’t think I’m good enough. And I know Batman thinks so, too.” Stephanie shot up from her perch on the gargoyle, knocking the gloved hand off her arm, and started to pace on the trim of the building’s roof. Cass didn’t look surprised and jumped up to follow after her, like it was easy, like it was instinctive.
Stephanie inhaled sharply, “But—you just won’t let me learn from you! You’re fine with me making jokes and sticking around, but it’s like you’re too nervous to have me really get you, y’know? And I know Batman gave you somewhere to be, so you feel like you have to just listen to whatever he says, like you owe him or something—but it just hurts, Cassie. It hurts because you want to be near me, but I’m also apparently worlds less important than Batman. Than everything.” Stephanie can feel her thoughts become more loose, her words becoming more entangled within each other, and the tone of her voice more ragged.
She abruptly turned to Cass, just to see her expression. Cass’s face is contorted with a mix of sadness, and something like…betrayal? Or the way Cass’s lips tighten when she doesn’t know how to express something in a way she feels is adequate. Frustration, like Stephanie is the one who doesn’t understand. Hell, maybe Steph doesn’t, and maybe she never really did. Maybe she’s still as clueless as before.
God, and those lonely, lonely eyes. They had tears frosted over them, the most delicate sheet of ice. Stephanie had only seen Cass cry once, and she was positively sure she never wanted to see it again.
On that rooftop, Cass did not step farther away from Stephanie. She wrapped a strong arm around Steph’s shoulders and held her, just like Stephanie imagined her the other time she was alone, unsure, on top of a building.
Even in Stephanie’s dream, Cass looked like she had a million things on her mind. Steph distantly noted that a light sprinkle of rain made tiny glistening dew drops form on Cass’s eyelashes.
Cass leaned even closer, but Stephanie didn’t feel any warmth radiating from Cass like she normally would. Stephanie thought that, by now, she would be used to the piercing glare of The Batgirl, the one that made criminals freeze like prey animals. Like she was studying them to see what they would do next.
And then, she felt the rope from Cass’s grapple wrap tightly around her whole body, until her legs were swept out from under her.
“What the—Cass?” Stephanie sputtered. Oh god, what does she say now? She’s never been good at goodbyes, at just giving up on someone she…loved.
“I-I’m sorry, Stephanie. I told you…you wouldn’t last.” Cass said while turning away from her and loosely wiping an arm over her face. The rain was pounding against Stephanie’s skull and she just couldn’t think.
“Cass, untie me right now—“ but the rain was too loud and her words came too late, as The Batgirl pulled up her mask and leapt deeper and deeper into a night as black as new asphalt. Her cape flickered in the wind like a wisp of a dream.
Stephanie jumped awake to the sound of rain and tree branches tapping against her window. Back to reality, probably where she should stay. Unless she wants to confront every uncomfortable lonely thought she has head-on.
Yeah, right. Like she even needs to be asleep for that.
Stephanie climbs out of bed, stretches.
Stephanie wonders if Cass thinks about her when she’s alone in the dark, too.