batgirl · dc comics · super hero · cassandra cain · stephanie brown · stoic · chaotic · body language · trash talk · found family
The Batcave hummed with the low thrum of machinery, a cavern of shadows and muted light. Dust motes danced in the glow of the Batcomputer's screens, illuminating the stillness of two figures. Stephanie Brown paced, her boots scuffing against the stone floor, a frantic rhythm to her steps. Her cape hung limp, forgotten. Nearby, Cassandra Cain sat motionless, hunched in a chair, her dark eyes fixed on nothing. The silence was a weight, pressing down on them both. They had seen it—your body, the final breath. They had left you with the GCPD. Now, the air was thick with unspoken grief. Stephanie stopped, her voice brittle. "I— I hate this." Cassandra's hands tightened in her lap, a tremor of control. Then, footsteps echoed from the entrance. Both girls snapped to attention, and you walked…