Prompt (nativehueofresolution) : If you need another angsty prompt how about Cass on father's day?
She took him out for ice cream. Dick and Damian hogged him all morning, and Tim joined in before lunch. When she casually walked by his office a few hours later, Jason was in there.
They were sitting and talking. Laughing. There was a card. One of those cheesy Hallmark ones too.
But she looked away before curiosity got the better of her. Their moments together (without fighting) were rare, and she was very proud of her big brother and dad for making today one of them.
About thirty seconds after Jay left, though, Cass stood in her father's office. Flats sinking into the plush carpet and a big grin brightening her face. "Ice cream."
"I think we have some in the kitchen." His voice had that dry tone he put on whenever he tried to be funny, and Cass pursed her lips and glared.
The effect would have been a touch more intimidating if she wasn't still smiling. "Should make you pay."
He laughed then, the farce over, and stood. Held out his arm. She allowed him to escort her to the family room, where they informed Alfred of their outing, and then to the car.
She had chocolate, of course, and he plain vanilla. They got double scoops in waffle cones, and she made a great show of paying. Bruce grinned, oddly comfortable with the attention from the other families in the restaurant. But that was the cost of being a billionaire, she supposed.
Even the cashier smiled as she handed Cass her change, and, accepting her father's arm as he escorted her to a booth, the ex-assassin found herself rather pleased with the attention as well.
Dick had told her what happened. In person. He hugged her and no doubt expected tears but no. She was not built that way.
"I need to see." A pause. Struggling for the right word. Or just to say it? "Body. His body."
Her brother shook his head. Eyes bluer than she'd ever seen. "There isn't one, Cass, I'm sorry."
Right. Being lost in time would do that, and that would only feed the denial. She needed to be logical. Focus on his mission; that's what her father would want.
"Should I come back?" She paused again. "To Gotham? Or stay here?"
"Cassie..." His voice trailed, and he looked down and rubbed his eyes. "Whatever you want. Where do you want to be?"
"Stay."
Her answer surprised him, she could tell. But it was her decision. He stayed and talked with her for another two hours. Talking about weather. Cases she worked. Her Mandarin.
Answered any questions she had about...what happened.
And then he left. Back to Gotham. To Batman and Robin. Her father's legacy.
No one told her how easy it would be some days and how painful the next. They probably assumed she was familiar with losing someone, but her relationship with Lady Shiva was tenacious at best, and David Cain was not her father.
When months passed with only Dick as Batman, pretending grew harder. Tim kept some hope alive. Perhaps she was emotionally biased but Tim the Detecive. Surely that meant something.
There was nothing she could do to help him yet, and most days she was fine with that but today.
Today she sat in an ice cream shoppe in Hong Kong. A tear slid down her cheek into her ice cream as she pretended someone sat in the cushioned seat across from her. Vanilla ice cream dripped down its cone and onto the table.
(It was stupid and wasteful, and she didn't care.)
She came to a sudden realization then. There was one thing about this family she positively loathed.
Everyone grieved separately. And she was no different.