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There was something wrong with Steph. Not physically, her movements were comfortable. But something was bothering her, and she hadn’t told Cass when she asked.
It was fine with Cass. She wasn’t happy about the situation, but Cass liked spending time with Steph. Maybe a patrol would even take her mind off of things. Cas sometimes felt better when she shoved herself completely into the Mission, and so the same could be the true for Steph, right?
Steph was a little rougher than Cass had expected. She was a lot quieter than usual, but her sharp barbs came out as extra force in her punches. Whatever was wrong, it had really fucked with Steph. It made itself clear in every failed dodge, every misjudged kick, every leap that nearly ended in a fall. Maybe Steph was almost always scrappier, but that rarely included cruelty. On a normal day, Steph was high on adrenaline, not on simmering anger.
Quiet was nice, but not like this. Not as a warning siren.
In the movies that she’d watched with Barbara, the best friend and the main character were supposed to comfort each other and help each other solve their problems. And when the main character eventually ignored a glaring issue, it came back to bite them. If Cass had to cast everyone into roles, and herself as the main character, Steph would be the best friend: the most important girl in Cass’s life the same age as her, who she never got tired of being around. Cass needed to try to help fix whatever happened. That was just how this worked.
She had no idea what to do. The movies always had grand gestures, and characters apologizing in the rain, and swelling music; Cass didn’t have a train to run next to or a cake to buy. It was simpler to just go through patrol, and not say anything as Steph took something unnamed out on henchmen. Maybe her presence could be enough.
It’d be something, at least.
No matter how restless Steph was, it didn’t change the fact that the night was unusually quiet. On a better day, it’d be nice. It was the kind of night that she and Steph might grab Batburger and throw fries at each others’ mouths. Or spend a few hours watching a club for shady guys and occasionally getting to dance together, the two of them surrounded by people: but to Cass, it felt like it was just the two of them. Or even look for spots for pictures for the Batgirls Instagram, and get to really admire Steph in different lightings and poses.
But this wasn’t one of those nights. Steph was upset, and it was cold, and they both just wanted to go home. Cass told Steph to go ahead and meet her on the clocktower roof. It was high enough to see the stars over the urban smog, and it’d give them privacy without leaving them too far away from the warmth of home.
Cass had to make a pitstop first. The Wawa they always went to was on the way back, and Steph seemed like she could use a little treat. Cass punched in an oat milk vanilla matcha latte with an extra pump of sugar for Steph, and picked a random with an extra two shots of espresso for herself.
Steph’s legs dangled off of the roof. A cigarette rested between her lips, the warm light making her freckles pop against her skin. Her mask was pulled off and her hood was down. The wind whipped Steph’s hair into her face, which was probably why she didn’t see Cass approach until she was right next to Steph.
“Holy shit, you actually came!”
“Of course I did.” She handed Steph the drink. She should say something comforting, something that could fix this, but the words were just out of reach. Instead, Cass sat beside Steph and rested an arm over Steph’s shoulders. She set the matcha between the two of them. Steph grabbed it with an appreciative smile and took a sip.
“Thanks. How much do I—”
“On me.”
Steph set the drink down and lifted the cigarette. “You want one?”
“No thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” The breeze chilled her skin through the Batgirl costume, and Cass found herself leaning closer to Steph. “They dull your senses.”
“You’re not on patrol,” Steph reminded. “You’re safe right now, you can relax. We’re here for a good time not a long time anyway, right?”
Cass still wasn’t sure. She could be needed any moment now. But pulled her mask off anyway and took the cigarette. Steph wanted to talk, and Cass wanted to listen, but Steph didn’t want to be on uneven ground.
With a click of the batlighter, it was lit. Cass let the burn of smoke fill her lungs. “What happened?”
Steph let out a bitter laugh. “What happened? Cass, you almost died.”
Cass frowned. “I’m fine.”
“No, you—” Steph cut herself off with a groan. “A few months ago. With Shiva.”
“Oh. Then yes,” Cass agreed, “but I didn’t.”
“You could’ve.”
“It’s part of the mission. You risk your life for others. You could die any night.”
Steph bristled. “There’s a difference between accepting the risk and trying to sacrifice yourself.”
“Why do you care now? It’s not like she’ll be back.”
“That’s not the point!” Steph scooted back and pulled her knees close to her chest. “It’s you. And back then I didn’t— I never would’ve—” Steph pursed her lips. She wanted to say something.
She was scared. Cass was supposed to be comforting Steph, and now Steph was scared. Shit. She wasn’t sure how to pull herself out of the hole that she’d dug herself into.
“I’m here. And so are you. And if I die, Gotham won’t have me to protect her, so I’ll be here a while.”
“You were willing to die back then.”
“That’s different. I would’ve been useless back then. I can be useful now.”
“Is it so different?” Steph sighed. “I can’t— I don’t want to lose you. Maybe it’s been months, but you haven’t changed. You’d still give up your life for anyone’s.”
“They matter.”
“They do! But so do you.” Steph took a drag of her cigarette and looked out into the distance, away from Cass. Took a deep breath in and out. “Where are you gonna be in five years? Ten? Do you plan to live that long?”
“I…” Why did Steph care this much? She had other people in her life. And why did it make Cass’s chest ache with guilt?
“You’re one of the three good things I have in this shithole of a city.” Steph still couldn’t look at Cass. Like she wanted to pretend she wasn’t saying this to Cass’s face. “You remember my coffee order, you take me back when I leave, and you don’t care that I’m not as trained as you. I— what even are we? I want to have a chance to find out.”
Oh. Cass hadn’t considered this.
She’d tried out dating Kon, and then she’d tried it with Tai'Darshan. Both times she’d thought there’d been a spark. Both times, after the relationship, she wasn’t quite sure she’d felt what she’d thought. Kon and her were better off as friends, and she’d simply miscast him in her life. Tai’Darshan was someone she liked as a person, someone she found intriguing, and someone almost magnetic. But that didn’t mean what she’d felt was romance, and maybe it was, but she’d be lying if she said she was sure.
What Cass felt for Steph was different. It was different from her other friendships, and even different from her partners. There was a thrill in changing the script and in finding a name for what she hadn’t even realized was there. It scared Cass, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do or where to go, but she was sure she wanted to do something.
Before Cass realized it, she’d waited a beat too long. The hope fell from Steph’s face, replaced with a crushing look of regret that made Cass want to hit herself.
“Oh,” Cass whispered. “I didn’t—”
Steph shook her head. “Forget it. I— I’ll go. Forget this, forget I said anything. This was stupid of me. It’s your life to risk, and I shouldn’t—” She was reaching for her grapple. Cass had just realized what she could gain, and if she didn’t act now, she was about to lose it in the blink of an eye. They’d both bottle everything up, and it’d be back to normal, but worse because normal had lost its appeal. It wouldn’t feel the same, but instead like wasted potential. Cass wouldn’t, couldn’t let that happen.
She grabbed Steph’s wrist. “I think I love you.”
The cigarette fell from Steph’s hand and tumbled over the side of the building. Cass could imagine the light falling through the air, waiting to see if it’d be extinguished or if it’d start a fire.
It didn’t feel like enough, but what else was there to say? That Steph was a little piece of Cass’s heart? That Cass’s life was balanced with Steph in it, and everything was wrong when Steph was gone?
Steph away from the ledge, and closer to Cass. “What?”
“I think,” Cass repeated, more certain than ever before, “That I love you.”
Steph’s lips, rough and chapped and tasting faintly of chapstick, met Cass’s. She felt Steph’s gloved hand on her cheek, the other running through Cass’s hair at the back of her head, pushing the two girls together. Fuck. Cass could’ve had this so much sooner, if only she’d realized what was there.
She didn’t want the kiss to end. If they stayed like that forever, Cass wouldn’t be upset about it. They had so much time to make up for.
But all-too-soon, Steph was pulling away from Cass. “I think I love you too,” she began, and everything from her face to her posture to her tone was saying sad-relieved-hopeful. “But I can’t be with someone and know they don’t care if they’ll be here tomorrow. Can you try to stay safer? For me?”
“Can you?”
“Hey,” Steph laughed. “I’m not the one picking fights with Shiva. Nobody’s getting rid of me anytime soon.”
“Alright,” Cass agreed. She doubted she’d be able to keep this promise, but maybe she could consider trying. “I will. I promise.”
Steph’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “Well then. Shall we take this indoors?”
Cass wasn’t sure if Barbara had cameras on the roof, and she was completely sure that there were some inside. She couldn’t bring herself to care. When they were on the couch, sharing Barbara and Dinah’s leftover pizza, the only thought Cass had was that she wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.
