"You are ... angry when you fight ... Resentful."

"Yeah?" Jason said without looking up. He allowed a smirk on his face, but his attention was still focused on the different parts of the gun in front of him. His fingers moved nimbly between each instruments, caressing them with a spare cloth, attending to the little dust evident on the surface. So much devotion, Cass thought, for such a small object.

"What happened ..." Cass continued, "between you and Batman?"

Jason froze abruptly. The smug grin he had was gone, replaced by a silent frown. "It doesn't matter," he replied, indifferent. "And it's none of your damn business, anyway." He turned away, all body movements indicating that he did not wish to discuss the matter further. Similarly, this was also the reaction Cass had received from Batman when inquired about the past life of the second Robin; she noted how both had dropped the subject before it even started.

There was something different from each of them, though. The eyes.

Bruce's eyes had been sad, heavy with guilt. He had looked away from her with deliberation, much slower than Jason had done. If anything, it seemed as if Bruce wanted to tell her about Jason, but ultimately decided against doing so because the shame would be too much to bear. And as such he told her not to bring it up again, that there were just things that she could not ask. But Cass could read him. Bruce was scared and miserable and remorseful, and he needed to lock away those emotions deep inside him because it was his defense mechanism against grief. He felt that he was to blame for whatever happened to Jason. Maybe he was. Cass didn't know.

Jason's eyes, in turn, displayed raw disappointment. There were no hints of him having the desire to enlighten Cass of his own murder, nor of the conflict that followed it. He was cold about it. Uncaring. Detached. At least, he tried so hard to show that he didn't care that Cass almost believed it. She could tell that Jason was faking, though — faking the way he shrugged like he didn't give a damn and continued his business as if she was just asking about the weather. Jason ... he was much better than Bruce at hiding his feelings.

"Here he comes," Jason warned, raising the cock of his gun.

They both watched sharply as a dark silhouette of a man came creeping near the abandoned building. Cass took a moment to observe Jason, in case he would decide to play leader again and signal when it was time to charge. He was quiet, though. Eerily so.

And there, right there, Cass could clearly see Jason's eyes changing from slightly distracted to hard and unforgiving. He still maintained his outward appearance of composure, but the hammering of his heart was unmistakable, and the way he gripped his gun just a bit tighter didn't go unnoticed to her. He was gazing at the man like a hawk looking at its' prey, growing impatient with every second wasted, but knowing full well that a good attack needs preparation. He caught her looking at him. He nodded. Knowing Jason, he probably thought that Cass was waiting for him to be ready.

So Cass leaped down the rooftop and landed on the ground with a small thump. The man, Bailey the Rapist, was shocked at first, emitting a sound between a yelp and gasp from his throat. He soon calmed himself, but when he did, a nasty grin spread across his face.

"Hey, babe."

Cass took an intense dislike to him that very moment.

Then Jason was on her side, hood and guns and all. He turned to Cass and just eyed her for a few seconds, his hood preventing her to read his face. She knew what the stare meant, though: Why the hell did you leave me? Cass responded by giving him a half shrug. This was not his case, so he definitely had no rights to give her cues. He was simply a helper tonight, someone who was willing to support her and give her informations, but absolutely not to give her orders. She was about to tell him this, when she noticed that his attention was already focused on Bailey.

"Here's how it's going to work," Jason said, stepping forward, his large posture towering over him. "We're probably going to beat you senseless, but if you cooperate, we may just spare an arm or two. Well, she might. I'm not quite as charitable as little miss sunshine here."

He finished it off with a vigorous kick to the man's stomach, throwing him to the trash can. The blow was not too hard, though; Jason just put the right amount of force to make him hurt like the devil — one from the impact of his foot to his body and the other from the collision with the metal trash can — without sending him to unconsciousness. After all, they still needed to interrogate him about the whereabouts of the missing children. If the children were alive. But Cass didn't want to think about that possibility right now, especially with the sight of the man responsible for it crumpled and helpless against a stack of dump, groaning in pain as he hold his bruised stomach.

"That was for Luke," Jason said, "and for calling her 'babe.'"

Cass approached him slowly. She grabbed hold of his clothes, raising him so that their eyes met, and spoke: "Where are they?"

He sneered. "In the morgue."

She punched him.

She would've done much more too, if not for Jason snatching away her quarry and slamming him to the brick wall with full exertion. Jason's breathing was labored, even though he hadn't even started to beat the crap out of him yet. The gun was still in his left hand, clasped uselessly on his side. He was not going to use it. The way Jason's fist clenched and the other man's cruel smile met was enough for Cass to deduce that this would end in a blood bath.

"Where are they?" Jason repeated, shoving him rougher to the wall.

"Ooh, this is every little boy's fantasy, isn't it?" Bailey said with an irritating singsong voice that could drive Cass insane. "Pushed against the wall by a dreamy man and a sexy little bat. My, my, where does this seem familiar? Oh, that's right," he grinned, "it was one of my nights with tiny Luke. Pity he couldn't handle four bullets all that well."

And Jason lost it. He punched and thrashed, kicked and jabbed, until the man's eyes were slits beneath the swollen blue skin and he bled through his nose and mouth. He was furious, his rage plain on every blow, his frustration radiating on the cold night air. And for a while Cass could do nothing but watch, because this Jason Todd seemed so lost and desperate that Cass couldn't help but pitied him. She understood that there was more than just blind anger in him. Jason hit Bailey so hard partly because yes, the creep deserved it, but also because he was releasing everything that's been bottled up inside for so many years right at this moment.

"Stop," said Cass, gripping Jason's shoulder.

He didn't even glance at her; he just kept hitting him with all his might, with all his strength and energy. Cass took the initiative to grab his right arm and twisted it to his back, and when that didn't stop him from trying to continue beating the guy with his left hand, she held him and tossed him to the opposite wall. His collision with the hard brick produced a painful crashing noise, and Cass just knew that he would be sore in the morning.

"I'm ... sorry," said Cass, standing between him and the man.

"No problem," Jason replied lightly, dusting off his shirt (though he still cringed a little). He frowned, raised his gun, and pointed to Cass' general direction. "Just move. Now. I need to finish that bastard."

Then Cass experienced one of the most awful and strained silence ever. She refused to move, yet she could feel Jason's stare burning straight through her. He was questioning her morality, she thought. Here she was, Black Bat, adopted daughter of Batman, protecting a pedophile from harm. She felt ashamed, but then she knew what was justice and what was payback. She would not budge; she would not let Jason murder him for all the wrong reasons.

"No," she said firmly.

"No?"

"We need to ask him ... where Luke ... and the others are ..."

Jason laughed bitterly. "Luke's dead. You heard him."

"He could be ... lying ..."

Jason seemed to think about this. "Did he?" he asked, a tinge of hope, however little it was, apparent in his voice. He turned his attention Bailey, who was now out-cold and bloodied, studying him. Then he shook his head decidedly. "He didn't, did he? You'd know."

Cass looked away.

He wasn't lying. This guy was much too proud to lie about an achievement such as hiding children from the police and every masked vigilante in Gotham for a whole week before raping the children and murdering them. All done under the Bats' very noses. It disgusted her, but he didn't lie, and she couldn't do the same to Jason because she simply never told anything but the truth before. And even if she resolved to do it, Jason would have found out, and what good would that do? He would become angrier and more resentful to the Bats that way. She didn't want that. She wanted him to trust her.

"He killed them, Cass," Jason said quietly, using her real name. "I promised Luke, and this son of a bitch killed him. He killed Daisy too, for all we know. And you're going to let him go with a few bruises just so he could do it again. Tell me, where's the fairness in that? Where's the justice that Batman had swore to bring to everyone who deserve it? Luke didn't deserve to die. He does."

"Jason," Cass said, almost pleading. "Don't."

But he didn't change his stance, much to Cass disappointment.

A sinking feeling that Jason would not listen dawned upon her. They were both just too stubborn, she resolved. Neither would move, because each had a goal set in mind. Jason's was to bring justice. Cass' was to bring home the children safely. This was their biggest difference; Jason whole heartedly believed that all was lost and that kids were dead. There was nothing he could do to save them, so he tried to punish the man who did this instead. Whereas Cass ... she didn't want to accept that the kids were gone. Not yet. At least, not until she saw with her own eyes their motionless body scattered on the ground.

Cass made a decision. She swiftly grabbed Jason's hand and held the mouth of the gun to her chest.

"What —"

"Shoot."

He couldn't. She knew he couldn't — wouldn't, anyway. His helmet still concealed his face, but by the slight change in the angle of it, Cass could conclude that Jason was gaping. She imagined him staring at her in disbelief, and the thought of that somewhat comforted her, knowing that she still held some control over the situation. It was with full understanding of what might happen that she made that choice, but she still did it regardless, because she believed in her instinct. Sure, Jason may shoot her and the man as well, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't. Well, she had hoped that he wouldn't anyway, and by the lack of bullet in her gut, she thought that it was a pretty good bet.

The pause that wrapped over them was so full of tension that she thought of just knocking Jason unconscious so she could drag Bailey's body to the nearest police station and concentrate on locating the kids. She didn't, though. As it happened, something made her grip Jason's hand tighter, as if she was daring him to pull the trigger already, to just do it and make it fast.

"Fine," Jason snapped, lowering his hand quickly. "You play dirty, you know, pretty bat?"

Cass sighed in relief but didn't waste any time after that, as she turned to Bailey and press that one spot on his head that made him scream in agony. It gave her some satisfaction, but she knew she mustn't relish in it that much.

"Where?" she simply asked.

This time, he talked. He told her about the secret floor between the first and second floor of an insurance building. It would be locked. Two very capable guards would be there. They would find some dozen children tied in the room, drugged and starved. He reckoned about a couple would've died already, since it was about a week since he had fed them. He had been bored and tired of their whining, he said.

When he was done, Cass dug her thumb to his temple so he passed out. That ought to stop Jason to do more damage to this poor bastard. She would personally take Bailey to Arkham himself, or at least to Batman, but her mind was already wondering to a damp, little room in an insurance building where kids were hungry and confused. So for now, she settled with dumping him to the back of a trash can, covering him with stray banana peels and sacks of black plastic bags. She would come back to him later. The thing she did with her thumb could last for days, and she was sure she'd be here in the morning after everything was over.

She looked at Jason. An unspoken agreement came between them and they both ran like madmen to where the children were located. There was hope. Luke could still be alive. And for now, that was all that Cass needed.


AN: So, what do you think? I've been playing with the idea of Jason and Cass meeting each other, and this is what I came up with. I'm doing their relationship to grow slowly and gradually, though. I just want them to have a believable dynamic. They have so much potential, and I just hope I'll do them justice!

You'll learn who Luke and Daisy are in the next chapter. More angst in the second chapter as well. Enjoy! Reviews are always pleasantly anticipated! :D