anon prompted: For the writing meme, 16: not dead, for stephcass, please
A/N: I only started shipping StephCass relatively lately so I'm beyond pleased to have this as a request, anon! Thank you! It's way more essoteric than I first intended, too. I want to get angsty with these two, but this just felt more calming to write. Hopefully it's soothing to read, too!
Disclaimer: Batgirl and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics.
Heartbeats
There is something beautiful about the end of the world. The lilac skies, the swirl of the clouds, the lucidity of calm breezes seeming to draw them in.
She stares from the top scaffolding of the New Trigate Bridge, her cape fluttering past her shoulders in a desperate attempt to follow the winds toward the center of Gotham. Her hood is hardly keeping out of her eyes, but it at least seems to be keeping back most of her hair from her eyes so that she can continue to watch the end of the world approaching them.
Cassandra has never seen anything like it, and she has seen many things. Many strange, wonderful, terrible things.
"Batgirl," Barbara's voice calls, scratchy and misshapen by the interference of the radio.
True to form, Cassandra doesn't say much in response, but she touches at the receiver in her ear, assured that is enough of an answer.
"We don't know what's happening," Barbara continues. "Stay back. We've already lost track of Spoiler—"
That is all that Cass needs to hear. She takes a running leap off of the bridge, using her grappler to swing toward the city. It's faster than usual, more forceful than usual since the city is drawing her in with all of its supernatural might.
If Stephanie is out in the strangeness of the end of the world, then she's probably trying to stop it. No matter what Bruce or Barbara or anyone else has ordered. And that is precisely what Cassandra is going to help her do, too.
She thinks. She hopes.
Deep down, though, she figures that being with Stephanie at the end of the world isn't the worst call either.
The city is brighter the closer Cassandra gets to its center.
There is strange energy crackling around her as she swings from position to position. She isn't certain what to make of any of it, but she knows that the closer she is to people in need, the closer she is to finding Stephanie.
She swoops down, picking up a girl from one ridge of the breaking asphalt and gets her back to the same side as her parents. Then she is catching a terrified man from the skies as he crashes through an office window. She gets him to another ledge and directs him toward the stairwell.
There is a crushed car she rips the door off of with her grappling gun, allowing the occupants to escape. An officer directing traffic needs pulled out of the way of a swirling vortex of energy.
It is chaos and madness, and it all seems to be strumming along in beats. Pulses. Starting from the center of the catastrophe.
That's when Cass knows she must enter the source of light and energy to find her friend.
If it is all calling Cassandra in, then it must have called Stephanie as well.
And both of them are good for answering a calling.
The winds suck into the heart of Gotham viciously, dangerously.
If anyone knows what the exact cause of this is, then it doesn't matter. Cassandra hasn't had a strong enough connection on her radio to contact Barbara since she leaped off the bridge. And, curiously, she hasn't seen any of her extended family since she entered the area of impact.
She has never thought much about the end of the world, but Cassandra remembers dying twice.
Despite trying several times, Cass never could accurately describe to Stephanie what dying felt like. She hopes she can find Stephanie and let her know that it's what Gotham is doing now. The throbbing, pulsing heart at the center of the city, filling with light and ominous color while sucking in and taking away from the rest of the body what it needs to survive. Sucking it in, pushing it toward this overwhelming, drawing calm as it slows.
Cassandra has never been that good at describing things in words, but she knows feelings.
If Stephanie is here — like Cass knows she is — then Steph has felt the draw of the city's heart. The terrifying calm of being drawn into something new and unbelievable.
That, Cass decides, is how she will finally be able to describe dying to Stephanie.
Once they find each other. Once they get there.
The void, as it turns out, is the most beautiful thing that Cassandra has ever seen.
So it's no surprise that the eggplant and black costumed vigilante she has been searching for is also there.
Stephanie's hood is down as well as her mask. Her hair is kept back loosely in a golden ponytail. Much of her hair, though, is free, framing her face and dancing slowly — abnormally slowly — in the supernatural winds of the city.
When Cassandra lands, she too has the instinct to pull off her hood and mask, to gaze into the lights. But she is more compelled to approach Stephanie, to be at her side as they watch the city almost literally go pair shaped before them.
The lights dance, small flickers falling around them like snowflakes as it continues pulsing. There seems to be an unknowable shape to the light at the center of the city. It pulses and beats and moves in a way to match the beat of Cass' own heart she can feel.
Or, maybe, Cass is matching the city.
"Do you know what this is?" Stephanie asks without even looking at Cass.
"No," Cassandra answers quickly, coming up to her. She checks over Stephanie — she's got some wear and tear to her costume, a few scratches on her cheeks. Overall, Steph seems okay, though. And that counts for something in this unknowable state. It may be the only thing that counts.
"Yeah, me neither," Stephanie admits with a wistful sigh. "Sure seems familiar, though. Like I've seen it before."
The purple skies, the golden light of the city.
It feels right and wrong in equal measures to Cassandra, too.
"This feels like the end of something, Batgirl, not sure what, though," Stephanie attempts a joking tone, though it doesn't quite meet her face.
Looking into Steph's face, Cass feels her heart pulse with the city. With the extra strength, the rush of blood, she reaches over and grabs Stephanie's hand with her own.
To her shock, it's the most natural fit in the world. She wonders why she hasn't done it sooner.
"It's only the end," Cass says slowly, comfortably, like she's heard it before, "if you want it to be."
Finally, Stephanie seems capable of pulling her gaze away from the heart of the city and looks affectionately back at Cass. There's a wry smirk growing on her face even as her eyes seem calmed and accepting.
"Maybe it'll just be us over again," Steph offers. "Maybe we'll look around and see everything we've ever wanted and then some."
"Maybe it'll take time," Cass says, thinking over their long history. "Maybe we won't meet."
"I don't think that's true," Steph says, contemplative. "It may take a while, but look at this," she gestures to the city and the skies, so unlike the Gotham they've always known, "the city's turning our colors."
The city's heart beats faster. So does Cassandra's.
All they have time for is a chaste kiss, a brush of lips, and a thoughtful linger. Maybe a promise of something deeper, something bigger someday soon.
The golden lights turn blindingly white around them, but Cassandra is hopeful.
Because she doesn't want this to be the end. She knows, deep down, it can't be the end. They just found each other again.
She opens her eyes to a violet sky and the golden lights of the city.
For a moment, Cassandra has to process what is happening, that she is standing on a rooftop, that she is in uniform. Tentatively, she reaches up and lightly touches the bat on her chest, feels the beating in her chest.
Everything feels right and yet there is something missing.
"Hey, Black Bat, ready for the city?" a voice asks from behind, a voice so familiar and safe and warm that it makes every muscle and bone in Cass' body ease again.
Cassandra looks at the black and eggplant costume Stephanie has been wearing as Batgirl, for how long Cass can hardly remember anymore.
But it's still Stephanie. And she's still Cassandra. And they're both alive in their city.
Their city.
"City needs to be ready," Cass quips back, gesturing between them, "for us."
To that, Stephanie grins from ear to ear. "I like your attitude tonight, partner."
Smiling, Cassandra steps up and wraps her arms firmly around Stephanie, resting her head against Stephanie's cheek.
Confused, Stephanie goes stiff for just a moment. Then, with a wonderful laugh, she pats Cassandra's back and hugs her back.
"We're always best when we've got each other's backs, huh?" Stephanie asks, as oblivious to the moment as Cassandra is starting to feel.
"When we're best, yes," Cass agrees.
Letting go of Stephanie — only ever temporarily — Cassandra takes a running leap off the building they're on. She feels the glow of the lights below, her back to the purple skies, and she knows it's between these two that she's going to always find Stephanie.
It's the sort of bond that never truly has an end.