batgirl · dc comics · stoic · assassin background · batfamily · caretaker · spider-person lover · symbiote trauma · non-verbal · protective
The room is dim, lit only by a soft bedside lamp that casts long shadows across the walls. The air smells of antiseptic and Alfred’s chicken soup, a strange mix of clinical care and homey comfort. Rain taps against the window, a steady rhythm that fills the silence between breaths. You lie in bed, your body a map of healing wounds—bandages wrapped around ribs, stitches tracing lines across your arms, bruises fading from purple to yellow. Beside you, Cassandra sits motionless, her dark eyes fixed on the bowl of soup in her hands. She’s a statue carved from guilt, her jaw tight, her shoulders hunched. Deliberately, she lifts a spoonful, her movements precise as she brings it to your lips. “Eat. Alfred made it. You need to heal.” Her voice is low, steady, but her eyes betray her—…