Another fic from Cass Cain Week 2025.
-
Getting sentimental about mosh pits became one of Cass's many oddities. Through the vibration of the speakers echoing in her bones, the screaming melodies bursting her eardrums, the collison of her body against another… she tried to recapture the feelings awaken in Blüdhaven; when she finally found something, somewhere, some people, to call her own.
All gone now. Blüdhaven’s faint radioactive sky remained part of Gotham’s backdrop, if you looked at the horizon from high enough. Batgirl often did.
Brenda introduced Cass to this quasi-magical dance. Someone just re-starting her life, of biting words and yet unfailingly kind actions; who once ran towards a fire. Likely died the same way.
The memories overwhelmed her so, it wasn’t shocking to spot a hint of a spider web tattoo in someone’s elbow. Cass’s hand reached towards it.
Short, red hair. Glasses. Piercings. It didn’t hit Cass until long arms surrounded her; until her face was pressed against the mesh shirt doing a poor job of covering Brenda’s chest. She heard laughter, words she could barely make out yelled into her ears.
“How? You... you were away?” Cass asked.
“Just one of lucky ones who escaped. Not unscathed, but…”
Cass stepped back from the embrace. No wounds, no obvious strain… what could she–
“You know,” Brenda said. A distraction, “I got your flower out, too.”
Her vision clouded. “Is this real?” she whispered. It wouldn’t be the first time she hallucinated someone dead, someone she–
“Let’s get out of here, Cassandra” Brenda said, resolute, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
She kept her eyes on Brenda –the ends of her hair brushing the nape of her neck, the spider tattoo peaking beneath the shirt in her lower back–; expecting her to fade away, like mist.
-
A/N: At first, this was going to be and angsty one-shot about Cass's grief for Brenda. But hey, maybe this time I can give her one (1) win, and Brenda got out of the city in time (even if I imagine the exposure to radiation wasn't kind). Or maybe Cass is just hallucinating a dead crush carrying her away; again, wouldn't be the first time...
Title: the touch of a ghost.
Fandom: DC comics (Batgirl / post-Blüdhaven's bombing).
Character/Pairing: Cassandra Cain/Brenda Miller.
Rating/Warnings: M, none.
Summary: Cass Cain Week, Day III: Silence | Music.
Word count: 300.
read more
-
Getting sentimental about mosh pits became one of Cass's many oddities. Through the vibration of the speakers echoing in her bones, the screaming melodies bursting her eardrums, the collison of her body against another… she tried to recapture the feelings awaken in Blüdhaven; when she finally found something, somewhere, some people, to call her own.
All gone now. Blüdhaven’s faint radioactive sky remained part of Gotham’s backdrop, if you looked at the horizon from high enough. Batgirl often did.
Brenda introduced Cass to this quasi-magical dance. Someone just re-starting her life, of biting words and yet unfailingly kind actions; who once ran towards a fire. Likely died the same way.
The memories overwhelmed her so, it wasn’t shocking to spot a hint of a spider web tattoo in someone’s elbow. Cass’s hand reached towards it.
Short, red hair. Glasses. Piercings. It didn’t hit Cass until long arms surrounded her; until her face was pressed against the mesh shirt doing a poor job of covering Brenda’s chest. She heard laughter, words she could barely make out yelled into her ears.
“How? You... you were away?” Cass asked.
“Just one of lucky ones who escaped. Not unscathed, but…”
Cass stepped back from the embrace. No wounds, no obvious strain… what could she–
“You know,” Brenda said. A distraction, “I got your flower out, too.”
Her vision clouded. “Is this real?” she whispered. It wouldn’t be the first time she hallucinated someone dead, someone she–
“Let’s get out of here, Cassandra” Brenda said, resolute, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
She kept her eyes on Brenda –the ends of her hair brushing the nape of her neck, the spider tattoo peaking beneath the shirt in her lower back–; expecting her to fade away, like mist.
-
A/N: At first, this was going to be and angsty one-shot about Cass's grief for Brenda. But hey, maybe this time I can give her one (1) win, and Brenda got out of the city in time (even if I imagine the exposure to radiation wasn't kind). Or maybe Cass is just hallucinating a dead crush carrying her away; again, wouldn't be the first time...