DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl # 6
All in a Lifetime's Work
Part 2
Gotham City
"Alright, no one moves, no one gets hurt!"
Tatsu found herself increasingly amazed by the gang's brazen attitude, matched only by her astonishment at their sheer stupidity. Ten men (boys might have been more accurate, Tatsu thought to herself. Even if they could vote and drink, this gang was hardly composed of men), brandishing weapons had spread out through the store, and then started herding customers and employees of the store alike into a corner of the grocery store. Most of the people huddled together, caught between crying or praying, terrified of what the young men might do to them.
Tatsu Yamashiro, former heroine known as Katana, however, fought to stifle a yawn. Casually, she tried to decipher the criminals' motives in her mind while she awaited the rescue she knew to be coming.
Just what did they hope to accomplish by taking hostages in a grocery store, of all places? There wasn't anything here that'd be worth the criminal charges, and even the dumbest criminals had to know that the police would arrive inside of ten minutes. If the silent alarms hadn't been tripped already, someone outside doubtlessly would have seen the armed men enter and called the police themselves.
"Don't no one try anything stupid!" snarled the leader, a confident grin plastered across his face, "The cops are a little too busy checking out a suspicious package at the court house to come rescue your butts! It's got tubes and everythin', so be calm and no one has to get hurt!"
Well, perhaps not so stupid, reflected Tatsu.
Regardless, they still had terribly poor luck. Even on her worst day, Tatsu knew she would still be able to handle them, sword or no. However, she knew that if she tried, she couldn't ensure the safety of the hostages, nor would she be able to convincing explain how an 'ordinary woman' like herself dealt with an entire gang single-handily. The scrutiny it would bring would instantly destroy the new life she was building for both herself and Cassandra.
But in the end, it really wouldn't matter. These young men were about to face a far greater threat, one with far less mercy. And they'd be lucky if they saw her coming.
&&&
Batgirl had decided on a rear approach by the time she'd removed her costume from the car's secret compartment. Direct assaults were rarely the Bat's style after all, and for good reason.
With barely a thought, Cassandra slipped in the open garage and entered silently. She quickly found two of the thugs rummaging through the employee lockers, their bodies containing both anger and anticipation.
"Where the hell could he hide the shit, man?" Bobby Evers went from locker to locker, ripping the contents out and scattering them on the floor, "do we know which one was his or if he even used the damn things? Jake?"
Bobby looked over his shoulder, and stopped dead. His best friend Jake was on his knees, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, while Batgirl had her left arm snaked around his neck, and while her right hand held a tight grip around a razor sharp batarange, that impossibly seemed to shine in the darkness.
"You're searching. You will tell me… for what. And I will hurt you."
Cassandra allowed Jake's unconscious form to fall forward like a rag doll. With deliberate slowness, Batgirl stepped towards her cowering prey.
"There is no... or."
&&&
"Bobby? Jake? Man, pick up, you assholes!"
Tatsu watched with a smirk on her face as the gang leader tried, and failed, to raise his friends on their cell phones. Just when the boy was about to give up, someone picked up.
"Tommy! It's arggh!" the shrill scream of pain startled both the hostages and the gang leader.
"Bobby! Bobby, what happened!" Tommy's face became flush with worry. Tatsu suppressed a smile, "what's going on?!"
"Don't worry…" answered an impossibly cold, detached voice, "you'll learn."
And the line went dead.
Tommy hadn't even realized his cell phone had slipped out of his hands until it struck the cold floor. The slight –clak!- of it hitting the tile was enough to make every criminal jump. Desperate to keep control, Tommy realized he needed to give his soldiers orders before their nerve broke completely.
"This place isn't that big! Spread out and find…find whoever the hell that was!"
The gang wavered only for a moment, and then scattered, beginning their hunt.
&&&
'Mad Dog Petey', as he was teased and ridiculed by his fellow gang members, stalked down the paper towel aisle with his gun in his right and, and his left hand gripping his wrist, just like they did in TV shows.
Unfortunately for Petey, he'd never actually been in a fight of any kind. As luck would always have it, he'd be somewhere else when a gun battle, bar room brawl or fist fight had broken out. The only reason no one suspected him of betraying them is because he always took the beating his gang handed him without complaint.
But finally, luck had broken his way. He (finally, finally!) was able to prove his worth to his friends and adopted family. As he came out of the aisle, he swept his gun to the left, but saw nothing.
Sweeping to the right, he realized that the Batgirl was standing not two feet away, her cold eyes bearing down on him.
With casual disgust, she brought her left arm down and knocked Petey's gun from his hand, drove her elbow into his throat, with just the precise amount of strength to insure his silence but not kill him, and then swung her fist upwards, striking his face with the back of her palm, instantly rendering him unconscious.
Technically, Petey still hadn't been in a real fight.
"It's Batgirl! Get her!"
Cassandra, well aware of the four man group that was sixteen feet away and approaching fast, grabbed the unconscious Petey and swung his limp body towards his friends as an obvious human shield.
The men hesitated, just as Cassandra knew they would. This gang, in many ways, considered one another family. They wouldn't cut down one of their own to get to her, not when the prize was so small, little bigger than their actual chances of hitting her.
So the men discarded their guns, and charged with fists instead.
Dropping Petey, Batgirl sized up the first one.
The man was of average height, good health and an excellent sprinter, as evidenced by the fact that he was a good six feet closer than the others. To Batgirl, that just meant he'd be the first to fall.
Batgirl lashed out with her foot when he got within two feet, smashing his ankle bones with her steel toed boot. The man screamed, but Cassandra wasn't quite done with him yet. Pivoting slightly on the man's smashed foot, and grinding the bone shards together, Batgirl struck the center of his chest with her flattened palm, expelling the air from his lungs.
Her opponent now unconscious, Batgirl decided to put him to use. Grabbing the man's left arm, she spun him around and flung him into his fellows with all her strength.
The three went down in a tangle of arms and legs, crashing to the floor. The middle man Cassandra judged to be the most dangerous, given his six foot six height, muscle bound frame and scarred fists that seen their fair share of violence. Best to deal with him quickly, she decided.
Batgirl swung her foot past the man's face, so closely that her heel came within a hair's length. The man foolishly thought that he'd been spared, and thought that until Cassandra's boot slammed down onto his face, removing him from the equation.
Her remaining two foes scrambled to their feet, and took positions opposite to one another, thinking they could surround her. Cassandra could see that neither of them expected to succeed. Maybe if she demonstrated how outclassed they were, perhaps they'd make wiser choices in the future, thought Cassandra.
No, she what she was planning next had nothing to do with her wounded pride.
The man on her right swung his fist, aiming her for head, while the man on Cassandra's left executed a fairly basic snap kicked aimed at her stomach.
Cassandra caught both attacks with her bare hands before they struck, and held them with ease. She allowed that fact to sink in for just long enough, before pushing both men backwards with contemptuous ease.
Cassandra taught the man to her left what a real kick was, with a perfectly executed round-house to the side of his head. As she allowed the second man to approach, his fists raised in what he knew to be a futile effort, Cassandra reached into her belt and removed a single weapon.
Dispatching the thug with a single but quick blow, Cassandra counted for several seconds, and then threw the batarang she'd removed from her utility belt one foot to the right of the canned goods section of the grocery store, just as one gang member, who thought himself smart by hanging back for a surprise blitz with his sidearm, stepped out.
The projectile caught the young man just above the eyes, and he fell to the ground without ever firing a single shot.
Remembering the count she'd performed, and confident that they would leave at least one gang member with the hostages, Cassandra knew that there was just one last criminal to deal with, and then she would be all but finished.
To her surprise, Cassandra found the remaining thug waiting for her in the frozen foods section. The man waiting for her was six foot six, broad shoulder, with torn jeans and a shirt that looked as if it had never seen the inside of a washer machine.
The man's body language was strong and confident, and stood at the ready in a manner that indicated he had at least some formal training.
Might find a challenge, Batgirl thought to herself.
"Name's Tyrone Biddle, Batslut!" declared the thug. He squatted, and Cassandra could see him removing some ankle weights he'd attached, "and unlike them other foo's, I'm ready for you Bat freaks!"
Batgirl rolled her eyes under her mask. There was one in every crowd, that somehow thought they were skilled or strong enough to defeat a Bat. Cassandra knew that if she were so inclined, she could have put the man down while he was loosening his leg weights. But Batgirl waited. She would at least give him the respect of an equal, even if he didn't deserve it.
"Twenty pounds," Tyrone held his weights up proudly, "wore these things everywhere I freakin' went." he threw the weights over his shoulder, "you're going down now!"
Cassandra took a step back to avoid the man's opening left cross, and ducked her head underneath the follow-up kick. The thug was faster than most, she gave him that.
But not faster than Mad Dog, Shiva or even Shrike and certainly not a smarter fighter than them. And certainly not fast enough to catch her.
For a good thirty seconds, Cassandra did nothing but ducking and dodging, as she watched Tyrone's body move. How he went for a punch, the attacks he favored versus those he didn't, and those he couldn't and compiled all that information inside her head, all while dodging attacks that might have crippled or killed her if they actually connected.
Finally, Batgirl had decided that she'd had enough information. As Tyrone swung a left hook aimed for her head, Cassandra grabbed the handle to the freezer's glass door next to her and swung it open, right in the path of her foe's fist.
"Arrgh!" Tyrone screamed as his fist traveled through the glass, it's sharp edges cutting his flesh in turn. Instinctively pulling his fist back, Tyrone cradled his bleeding hand to his chest as pain wracked his body.
"You should know good fighters pay attention...to their environment," chided Batgirl as she covered her mouth to fake a yawn. Amateurs usually responded to dismissal with anger, which in turn led to mistakes.
"I'll kill you!"
The man lunged forward, with no pretense of skill, but Batgirl had expected that. She convincingly faked right, and then went left. Straightening her fingers, she jabbed Tyrone's kidneys with her left hand, and give his liver a good solid punch. Ducking under the pathetic backhand, Cassandra shifted to Tyrone's right side, repeating her attack perfectly, but this time she slammed the top of his knee with her boots, and brought the man tumbling down.
"I'll...I'll...kill you!" Tyrone gasped, his entire body wracked with pain now. Unlike most parts of the body, liver shots throbbed. Combined with the pain of his bleeding hand, his damaged knees and aching kidneys, the fact that he was still conscious was truly an impressive feat.
Without a word, Cassandra leap-frogged over his head. For a second, Tyrone braced himself for the pain, the beating that was sure to follow.
Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened.
Looking over his shoulder, Tyrone saw Batgirl crouched, several feet away, her back turned to him.
Forcing himself to his feet, despite the best advice of his body, Tyrone surged forward, carried by hate, fear and determination not to be beaten by any little girl, no matter what they were wearing.
Unfortunately, fate and irony were against him.
Batgirl spun around at the last second, and smashed Tyrone's vaunted twenty pound weights across his face. Blood, spit and teeth were loosened and flung through the air. Tyrone staggered, but didn't fall, so she slammed the other set into his stomach.
He fell instantly. Batgirl could have easily killed him with the weights if had she wished, or wasn't careful, but Cassandra was nothing if not precise. He'd be feeling it for weeks, but Tyrone would live. And hopefully he'd reconsider his life.
Dropping the weights, Cassandra decided to end this foolishness. She'd had enough fun, and the police would be here soon.
&&&
Tommy wiped a thick brow of sweat from his forehead. What had turned into a simple smash and grab was quickly turning into a nightmare. Tommy, along with the hostages, had heard the sounds of the fight, but knew nothing of what was actually happening.
As the seconds crawled by, Tommy finally got it in his head that a hostage might balance the scales. But as he turned towards the crowd, a batarange soared past his face, so close he could smell the metal.
"Try to harm a hostage…I take an eye," hissed Batgirl.
No one doubted her.
Tommy swung his gun forward and began pounding the trigger. Bullet after bullet was sent flying, each one Cassandra side stepped with ease. Tatsu was amazed, watching Batgirl dodge the bullets with such grace it almost seemed as if it were a choreographed performance.
Tommy watched in terror as Batgirl dodged each and every shot, inching closer and closer as she did. Finally, she came to sudden stop not a foot away. Young Tommy, gun still in hand, drew a bead on her head and pulled the trigger.
-click!-
"You should learn to count…before you use a gun," supplied Batgirl.
With one well placed chop to the neck, Tommy was no longer a factor.
For a moment, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The threat was no more, dispatched by one of the legends of Gotham's shadows. But when Batgirl snapped her head to the side, Tatsu was the only one among them who didn't flinch.
Slowly, Cassandra scanned the crowd, before her eyes became locked on one man.
As Batgirl stepped forward, the crowd parted instinctively, no one having the strength of will to look the young crime-fighter in the eye, let alone stand in her path.
Tatsu watched in confusion as Batgirl grabbed the store's terrified pharmacist and hauled him to his feet, a look of outrage clearly visible underneath her mask.
"You drug people, don't you?"
Tatsu felt her heart skip a beat. Did Cassandra know what she was doing, what exactly she was asking? Did she know the important differences between a doctor handing out prescriptions, and a punk dealing out narcotics on the street?
"I…I don't know what you're talking about!" the man stammered pathetically.
Batgirl grabbed the man's hand, applied some force to pressure points few even knew of, and elicited a pained screamed from the terrified man.
This has gone on far enough, thought Tatsu to herself. Cassandra was on the verge of making a terrible mistake, of that she was certain, and Tatsu knew she would never be able to live with herself if she allowed that.
"Batgirl…"
Cassandra snapped her head to look at Tatsu, and gave her a look as cold as the Artic itself. Despite herself, Tatsu found her words die in her mouth long before they reached open air.
"You will confess," Batgirl returned her attention towards the pharmacist, "or what I've just done…will seem like a mercy….to what I will do."
Batgirl spun on her heels, the sound of her cape fluttering was like the beat of leather wings. She strode out of the grocery store just as blue and red lights and sirens announced the presence of law enforcement, though Tatsu doubted that they would have even see Batgirl.
&&&
If Tatsu had to choose between dealing with police officers as a civilian, or as that of her heroine persona Katana, there was simply no contest. As a heroine, discussions were brief and to the point. Police officers rarely wasted her time, always mindful of the superior power she possessed when compared to them.
But as a civilian, the police seemed intent on drawing everything out. It took considerable effort to convince the officers that she didn't need to go to the hospital 'just in case' for any stress related treatment, and the officer who was interviewing her seemed to have never heard of the concept of 'short hand'.
But in fairness, the extended time did allow Tatsu to eavesdrop. She was adept at reading lips while talking herself, and when the interview was over loitered on the edges of the policemen's notice, observing this and that. An hour and a half after the hostage situation had ended, Tatsu had learned what she needed to, and made her way to her parked car (which she observed was now parked on the very edges of the parking lot, away from prying eyes).
Cassandra was in the passenger seat, leaning back as if taking a nap, but Tatsu could tell she was aware of everything that was happening around her.
"You were right," Tatsu said as she got in, "from what I overheard, the doctor had been using illegal narcotics to make addicts of his patients. The gang you dispatched gave him the supplies so it wouldn't be traceable to him, but he apparently made the mistake of trying to then remove them from the deal."
Despite all she'd seen and done in her life, Tatsu shuddered. The very idea that a doctor, someone instinctively entrusted with the welfare of the community, would willingly poison his own patients disturbed every fiber of her being. And though she had lived and worked in Gotham before, she found she could still be shocked by the moral bankruptcy of some of its citizens.
"Told you so," groused Cassandra.
"You did," Tatsu confessed, "and I'm sorry for not believing you. Let me see your hands."
Cassandra brought them both up for inspection, and Tatsu was shocked to see that they hadn't a blemish on them. No tears, signs of bruising, not the slightest indication that they'd just been used to take down ten dangerous criminals. The senior heroine found herself a little shocked, and knew instantly it spoke towards her ward's skill.
"Why?"
"I can't have you showing up at school with bloody knuckles. It raises questions we don't want to deal with," Tatsu started the car, "it's a little too late for shopping, so I fear we'll have to make do with fast food. Would you like pizza or burgers?"
"Both."
Tatsu rolled her eyes, "Next time. I know of a nearby pizza place, I think you'll like it."
&&&
Tatsu rose with the sun, and began preparing for the day. Thankfully, she had enough supplies on hand to make Cassandra a lunch to carry with her. Quickly putting the lunch together, Tatsu placed it in Cassandra's backpack, and waited for a moment.
Tatsu knew, in a way only a parent knows, that Cassandra had awoken the moment she stepped out of her bed, and wondered if Cassandra might rouse herself to get an early start on the day.
But a few minutes passed, and it became obvious to her that Cassandra would rather pretend to be asleep than start the day for school.
She really is a fast learner, Tatsu shook her head in amusement.
Rather than return to bed, former heroine decided to meditate to pass the time. She stopped when Cassandra's alarm clock (Tatsu had taken the liberty of programming it in advance) went off. The noise wasn't especially loud, but to those who trained their senses to remain at a constant state of heightened awareness, even when asleep, it might as well have been a fire alarm.
"I'm making bagels for breakfast," Tatsu called, knowing Cassandra couldn't ignore her, "hurry up and get dressed!"
"Can't decide what to wear!" Cassandra answered back.
Learning much too fast Tatsu sighed to herself mentally as she went upstairs to help her ward.
When she entered, the elder heroine saw nearly a half dozen shirts and jeans strewn across the bed. Cassandra was examining herself in a mirror with such apprehension one might think she was planning to attend the Prom, not her first day of school.
"They don't…feel right," Cassandra explained as she tried on another shirt, "and people judge based on clothes…I saw that on TV."
"Only the dumb ones," answered Tatsu, "what color do you prefer?"
"Doesn't matter," Cassandra removed the shirt and tried another one on, "they don't feel…right."
"I really don't think it's the clothes that are the problem," offered Tatsu.
Cassandra said nothing.
"Simply wear whatever you prefer. If people are going to judge you based on what you wear, shouldn't it be something you like instead of something you think they will like?"
Looking at herself in the mirror for the millionth time, Cassandra found that Tatsu's words brought little comfort, and worse, almost seemed accepting of defeat.
But deep down inside, Cass wondered if she'd ever really be comfortable in clothes like these.
&&&
Gotham Docks
If there was one place for dumping corpses Peter Akins absolutely hated, it was the river.
Granted, he hated all corpse dumping grounds, but mixing water with a corpse was especially disgusting. The body became blue and bloated, fish dined on the exposed flesh while the water washed away vital evidence and even if the sight wasn't enough to make a nun swear, the smell was.
So when he got the call that a body had been dredged from the river, Peter knew to skip his morning hash browns (unless he wanted the entire department to see him revisit them again). But what he found was startling, to say the least.
When the officers on the scene directed him to the body, he expected a normally dressed, bloated corpse. What he got was a body that looked almost alive, dressed in a black suit that was obviously a Kevlar mesh (the Gotham Swat team had dozens of the things), holsters on each hip, empty. The coroner, a lady by the name of Alice Fleury, gave him a nod as she looked over her sheet.
"Looks like you got a 'cape case'," Alice smiled sarcastically. Gotham Detectives, as a rule, loathed the caped crowd and the trouble that always followed. Not a single 'cape case' was ever open and shut, not like other murders. The investigations often consumed countless hours with only a hint of pay off and rarely ever resulted in meaningful convictions, not when the defendants broke out of jail, or were assigned to the revolving door known as Arkhum Asylum.
But the young detective knew he wouldn't get ahead by complaining, so he simply nodded in acknowledgement and examined the corpse. With most 'cape cases', there was something odd about the victim that set them apart from other murder victims, and that went double in this case.
The body was dressed in an all black body suit. Two gun holsters underneath each arm pit, and a knife sheath in each boot. Akins didn't need anyone telling him that the corpse in front of him was a professional mercenary, but the detective was still confused by what he saw.
According to the officers on the scene, the body had been dredged from the water. So why did the man look like he was taking a nap? If he was a professional mercenary and didn't wear gloves, why weren't his hands scarred? Small arms and the knives seemed to indicate that the man wasn't one of the pros who sniped a target from across the street, or whatever the case may be. This man probably got down and dirty with his fists, so where were the scars?
And why no gloves? Finger printing had been a basic part of law enforcement for decades now, and was one of the easiest things to thwart. Why didn't the deceased care about leaving his finger prints? It only took once to get them in the system.
As he pondered these questions, Peter gave the suit a once over. Noticing a small cut in the uniform over the man's heart, and another over the man's right lung, an idea began to form in the junior detective's mind.
"He's a metahuman," Akins said aloud.
"What makes you say that?" asked Alice.
"He's got slices in his uniform, each one over vital organs but no blood," explained the detective, "the body was pulled from the water but still looks fresh. No bloating at all. I think the term's healing factor, if I remember my meta-human vocab right."
"Ain't much of a healing power if the guy's dead," commented one of the nearby officers.
"Everything has its limits, Officer Duncan," answered Akins casually, "all the vital organs were stressed during the fight and I'd bet there was strong poison involved too. Add that to the drowning, and it's no surprise our boy here bought it. This guy had to have put up a fight, I'd bet our department's pension on it. But his attacker was good, probably one of the best. We probably wouldn't recognize the original crime scene even if we walked past it. Best thing to do right now is get that stiff in the morgue, see what his body can tell us and pray we get an I.D."
"You honestly think he's in the system?" Alice asked.
"I hope so," Peter sighed, "because I need something to even pretend to investigate this. Gotham's got enough sociopaths and wackjobs, last thing we need is a freakin' ninja doing who knows what!"
&&&
Breakfast was a painfully quick affair. In almost no time, it seemed to Cassandra, they had finished and were making their way towards her new school. In almost no time, Tatsu had pulled into the parking lot.
"Here," Tatsu handed Cassandra a tape recorder, "I know you have an excellent memory, but there's little need to stress it so early on. The battery will easily last you the entire day, so you can use it liberally."
"You're not coming with?" Cassandra's eyes were as wide as saucers.
"I am going to meet with the staff, actually, but we both felt it was best you do this on your own."
Traitor, Cassandra thought harshly.
"Just go to the front door. A staff member will be waiting for you."
"But..."
Tatsu put her hand over Cassandra's. Up until now, the young woman hadn't realized how much it had been trembling, "Trust me. There are some things you will need to start doing for yourself, by yourself. Believe me, you'll thank me in time."
"Oracle used to say that…all the time," Cassandra muttered as she got out, "still not there."
Tatsu drove away, leaving Cassandra alone with her thoughts.
Her training kicked in automatically, observing those around her, their mannerisms, interactions, possession and whatever else her trained eye could see.
And in no time at all, all the people carrying thick, heavy books, talking easily amongst one another, began to whittle away at the young Bat's self confidence. How could she ever hope to fit in a place like this, where people interacted casually and had books?
Almost involuntarily she began opening and closing her fists, trying to deal with the anxiety.
"Cassandra Cain?"
When someone called her name, Cass nearly jumped out of her skin. It wasn't that they'd snuck up on her (Cassandra had seen the person walking towards her twenty seconds ago), but rather someone had pulled her out of the anonymity that had been protecting her up until now.
"Uhh…yes?"
Cassandra turned to face the women. She was dressed professional, in her early thirties with red hair pulled back in a pony tail. For a split second, Cassandra was reminded of someone else.
"Hi, there," the women extended her hand in a kind gesture, "my name's Doctor Marnie Herrs, but you can call me Marnie or Ms. Herrs, whichever you prefer. I'm here to show you around, and answer any questions you might have about your classes. I'm your counselor, so we'll probably be seeing a lot of one another."
"Counselor?" asked Cassandra, "what's that?"
"We're staff whose job is to help the students directly," she explained politely, "what that means for you is that, if you have any problems, you can come to me and it's my job to help you."
"Oh." Suddenly, Cassandra found that the obstacles before her didn't seem quite so insurmountable.
"I'll show you around the school before I take you to your first class, okay?"
Cassandra nodded okay, and relaxed somewhat. This building didn't seem nearly as mystifying, or as intimidating as it had been only minutes before. Cassandra found that she was quickly coming to trust Marnie. The way she walked, the way she carried herself, it was obvious that she cared. There was some emotional pain underneath her educated surface that Cassandra could see, but she had strength enough to deal with it effortlessly.
In short, Marnie Herrs was someone Cassandra instinctively trusted, gravitated to. Someone who was smart, intelligent and who had lived, in some way, what they were teaching. Cassandra thought the expression was 'Talk the talk and walk the walk', but she wasn't positive.
Communication was never her strong point.
Marnie led Cassandra into the interior, showing her where the Library was located at, where the Reading Lab was situated at, and things like that. Cassandra paid close attention, and also examined her surroundings for out of the way niches where she might hide a Batgirl uniform. Trouble had a way of finding every member of the Batclan, after all and it never hurt to be prepared.
Slowly, Cassandra felt her initial fear beginning to trickle away. The school was slowly beginning to transform from an insurmountable obstacle to a building just like any other.
Until Marnie Herrs announced that one room in particular held her class, and she was to join them. Cassandra did a double take as reality seemed to slap her across the face.
"You want me…to go in there?" Cassandra masked her concern poorly.
"Normally we'd wait another day, let you start all your classes, but your guardian insisted we start today," explained Ms. Herrs, "she said wanted to start making up for lost time as soon as possible, and I agree."
"But...but..." Cassandra struggled to come up with some excuse that spared her dignity.
Nothing was forthcoming.
"The teacher knows to expect you and won't call on you for answers," Ms. Herrs assured her, "you'll just have to sit and listen. That's nothing you can't do. I'll find you afterwards, alright?"
"...fine," Cassandra murmured. In the back of her mind, she just knew that Tatsu was having a great time somewhere.
&&&
"...seppuku would be preferable to this," Tatsu rubbed the bridge of her nose, her eyes dry from hours upon dreary hours of reading and signing agreements, "childbirth isn't half this annoying!"
"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that," chuckled Dr. La Grieves, "I understand how this can be tired, but the school insists on these confidentiality agreements, waivers and such. Thomas Wayne High School, under a mandate by Bruce Wayne himself, is completely devoted to reaching out to children who have scarred, or worse, by the madmen that seem to dominate this era."
"I understand that, but why all the confidentiality agreements?"
"There are some thugs and sociopaths who may object to their...work being undone," explained the Doctor, "so we intend to fly under the radar as much as possible. Thanks to the money and influence of Mr. Wayne, we can do just that. Accredited professionals know of us. The media and world at large, do not and we actually have a firm employed to keep it that way. An anti public relations firm, if you will."
"What about the students?" asked Tatsu, "are all of victims of meta crimes?"
"No, no," Dr. La Grieves shook his head, "as I'm sure you've heard, Bruce Wayne funds this school, and he's amazingly liberal with funding. I suspect losing his parents at such a tender age made him sympathetic to the plight of children affected by crime."
Tatsu had to cough to avoid laughing. Dr. La Grieve continued,
"Because of our funding, we can attract some of the very best in education. In addition, our counselor division is its own separate department. Unlike most public schools, our counselors only have to juggle a maximum of ten students and we have a ratio of twenty students per teacher.
"However, Mr. Wayne believes, and I agree, that the students would suffer if the school was stigmatized as simply a place for 'freaks'. So while students like Cassandra are granted automatic entry, we hold a lottery for others. And then…there are others," the Doctor removed his glasses and examined them for a moment.
"Others?"
"Just like any other school, some people see what we offer in terms of special education, and see only how they can exploit for their child, whether they need it or not," explained La Grieve, irritation slipping into his tone of voice, "we do our best to keep them out, but some spoiled brats will always manage to slip beneath our radar."
&&&
"Ms. Tapscott, would you care to explain the answer?"
Jackie Tapscott, dyed blond and wearing the latest in superficial fashions, simply rolled her eyes and said, "Why're you always calling on me? Why not call the new girl? She retarded or something?"
Cassandra felt her blood run cold as she was pulled from her (barely) comfortable obscurity as the entire class laughed at her. In truth, there was barely a slight chuckle, but Cassandra was no less mortified.
"I've seen your writing, Ms. Tapscott. So I can say with some confidence that you have no right to comment on the intelligence of others." answered the teacher. The entire class laughed louder than before, though Jackie just rolled her eyes and continued chewing her gum. The teacher moved on quickly enough, but Cass wasn't satisfied.
Sparing a glance at the girl, (who wasn't even focusing on her anymore, the little…tramp, was that what Oracle called Huntress? Yes, the girl was a tramp.) Cassandra decided she was due some payback.
In her tour of the school, Cass had liberated a number 2 pencil from the library and pocketed it instinctively. She had done so because the end was sharp and the eraser was unused. As a throwing weapon, it was perfectly balanced and having it concealed on her person, gave her a certain amount of confidence, something the day had been lacking in.
But now, it would serve a different purpose.
Breaking off the end with the eraser, Cassandra casually looked around the room, taking note of everything from the make of the wall to the alertness of each student. Then, as she saw the teacher begin to take on an important part of the lesson, Cass snapped her hand to the side.
No one saw it happen, but the small, half end of the pencil was sent flying towards the wall. The rubber of the eraser struck the smooth, painted walls at an odd angle and ricocheted.
"Ahh! Son of a…" Jackie Tapscott let loose a string of profanity as she grabbed her head. The entire class stopped and stared at her.
"Is there a problem, Ms. Tapscott?" asked the teacher.
"Something hit me!" Jackie shrieked.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, I swear!" She quickly looked around for the offending object, but found nothing.
It never occurred to her to look in her backpack, but then Cassandra had left nothing to chance. She might find the eraser bit if she ever cleaned out her backpack but that wouldn't be for a while, if at all.
Several frantic seconds passed, and Jackie found she was unable to turn up any evidence.
"It happened!" she declared frantically.
"Well, we can talk about it after class. Now, as I was saying…"
The class returned its attention back to the teacher, though Cassandra allowed Jackie to see the edge of smirk as she turned back around. Cassandra savored the taste of her minor victory, honor now satisfied.
&&&
When lunch came around, Cassandra once again found herself at a loss at what to do. Tatsu had been kind enough to pack her a lunch, Cassandra really had no idea where she was supposed to eat it.
The way everyone moved, it was clear there was at least some social expectation of where one was supposed to eat their food. People of similar clothing and body type seemed to clustered together. Those who defied that pattern where clearly friends, or associates at least.
Frankly, Cass was at a loss at what to do. Finally, in what she viewed as an example of personal cowardice, she settled on a table towards the back where only a few people were sitting with the tail end deserted.
Cassandra unpacked her lunch, trying hard not to reflect on her loneliness. As was too often the case, she only knew when something was wrong, but she really didn't have any idea how to make it right.
Like always.
Cassandra had barely unpacked her lunch when…
"You're a new face here, aren't you? I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you around."
Cassandra looked up and saw a young woman and almost instantly her mind began appraising her. She wore dark clothes, walked with a metal crutch on one hand, a lunch bag in the other. Light skin, brown hair and green eyes, Cass' instincts drifted back to someone else for a brief second.
Then she snapped back to reality and her current situation.
"…sorry, I'll move," Cassandra offered in a low, polite tone.
"Never said you had to do that," the girl sat down next to her, and suddenly Cassandra had never felt more uncomfortable in her life.
"The name's Zoe," stated the other girl, "so are you actually new here, or have I missed you before?"
"Uhh…new. First day." Cassandra stated quickly.
"What ya in for?"
"'In for'?" Cassandra looked at her curiously.
"You're starting too late in the semester to be a lottery winner or new student. Ergo, like most of us, a medical transfer. So what're you in for? I know I'm prying, but trust me, it's better to get ahead of the rumors."
Cassandra could see no deception in the girl's body, so she saw no reason to lie. Well, more so.
"Bludhaven bombing. I have…amnesia, as a result. And other stuff."
"Sounds bad. I'm here because I've got some Joker toxin lingering in my bloodstream that the doctors can't seem to cure. It gives me fits sometimes, but instead of seizures, I have laugh attacks," Zoe shrugged, but not half as casually as her tone of voice would suggest. Cassandra saw, easily, a powerful undertone of fear and anticipation.
"Oh." Cassandra didn't know how to really respond, so she went with the bare minimum.
"Huh. You're the first one not to freak," Zoe smiled and Cassandra could all but see the relief in her body, "you either got guts or don't know what I'm talking about."
Cass shrugged, and though she knew better than to give away too much about her other life, simply said, "Joker doesn't bother me much."
Unfortunately, further conversation was interrupted when two boys, of above average height sauntered over.
"Hey, Joker's Daughter, you bugging her?"
Cassandra saw Zoe recoil, however slightly, from the comment, and inwardly the young Bat seethed.
"Yeah, she bugging you?" parroted the other boy.
Cassandra looked at the two like they were something she'd scrapped off the bottom of her shoe, "No, you are. Leave."
The boy's body language instantly from friendly to aggressive, clearly offended by the fact that the girl they were 'rescuing' would dare talk back to them in that fashion. Naturally, Cassandra didn't feel the least bit threatened, not only because of her night time calling, but because she could see an even bigger boy coming up behind these two who clearly intended her no harm.
"Hey guys!" The boy, standing six feet with a few inches to spare and muscles that equaled the average henchman, grabbed the two who'd been annoying Cassandra and Zoe in a head lock and slowly walked towards the end of the table with each in toe.
"Hey guys. Thanks for keeping my friend company, but sense I'm here now you two can go do what ya, okay?"
Properly cowed, the bigger boy allowed them to go on their way, and he sat down at the lunch table with them. As he sat down, the entire bench shook from his weight (which silently told Cassandra that his bulk was mostly muscle, not fat) and he leaned backwards against the table, slouching in the bench.
Almost instantly, Cassandra found she liked the boy. His mannerism, his body tone, all were very kind and she suspected that he came to this table willingly, because no one else was here.
"My knight in casual wear," Zoe rolled her eyes, "you didn't have to do that, Josh."
"Some jerks need to know that there's someone bigger and better than them," explained the boy. He then looked to at Cassandra curiously, as if her presence had just registered.
"Name's Josh Clark," he extended his hand in a friendly gesture and Cassandra took it instinctively. It dwarfed hers, "you are…?"
"Cassandra Cain," Cass answered. It occurred to her that this had been the first time she'd stated her full name, ever, to anyone who didn't already know it.
"Nice to meet you, Cass. I'm guessing this is your first day?"
"Pig," Zoe muttered as she took a bite from her lunch.
"But an open and fair one," Josh answered back, "so, what're you in for? Somethin' cool, I hope!"
"Josh! Tact, damn it!"
"It's alright," Cassandra reassured them, though she didn't really know how true her words were. Regardless, she explained her 'plight', as it was told to her.
Lunch ended too quickly, and soon Cassandra found herself shuffled to another class where she had little idea what was being taught to another, all by the ever present and polite Ms. Herrs. She collected books from each class, each scarier than the last and by the time the final bell rang, Cassandra released a loud sigh of relief.
Almost running, she made her way to where Tatsu was supposed to pick her up, when Jackie Tapscott stepped in front of her.
"Hey, Cassandra! Look, I want to apologize about history class today, I was out of line. I was wondering if you…"
Jackie's apology slowly transformed into white noise for Cassandra. For someone who could see perfectly the implications of the slightest muscle tension, Jackie's fake white smile might have well as been a neon sign. And since Cassandra estimated she had a few minutes until she had to meet Tatsu, she decided that she'd play the girl's game for some amusement to redeem an otherwise terrible day.
As Jackie explained it, there was something that was, according to her 'pretty cool' that the teachers kept hidden from the students in one of the back rooms. That just happened to be out of the way, where no one else was. Right.
The day had slowly whittled away Cass' confidence in her own intelligence, but it hadn't fallen so far that a stuck up little girl would hope to fool her.
When Jackie asked Cassandra to open room door while she played look-out, Cass struck.
With speed Jackie had no way of predicting, Cass grabbed Jackie by the wrist, opened the door and shoved her through before she closed it again. There was a loud splash, followed by some profanity and rushed apologies.
Removing her math book from her backpack, Cass strolled into the room as if she hadn't a care in the world.
"Hmm, nothing cool here." she observed. Jackie, along with three of her fellow gang members (at least, that was what Cassandra regarded them as. Punks were punks no matter how expensive their clothing, as far as she was concerned). She saw one that was carrying a bucket, most likely taken from the janitor's closet and probably not filled with strictly tap water.
"You enjoy your bath?" Cassandra asked Jackie casually, as if nothing were amiss.
"You bitch! Get her!"
Yes, definitely a gang, Cassandra thought to herself. The girl with the bucket had the bright idea to throw the thing at Cassandra, but a simple kick (nothing too impressive that might tip her hand) redirected into the head of another girl.
One down.
Another stepped forward, but Cass used her impressive math book as a fly swatter, knocked the girl flat on her back. The girl wasn't knocked out, but the blow was enough to keep her from trying that again. After that, all it took was a stern look to discourage the last one from attempting anything. She then turned her attention to Jackie, who was utterly dumbfounded by what had just happened.
"I'm not impressed," Cassandra said simply, and then walked out.
&&&
The drive home was largely silent. Cassandra was reflecting on the day's events while Tatsu was just counting her blessings that she didn't have to sign anymore agreements. But eventually, curiosity won out over exhaustion.
"How was your first day?"
"Long. They gave me books," Cassandra answered, a slight tremor in her voice.
"I'll help you with those," Tatsu said quickly, "anything else?"
"I…think I made some friends," Cassandra confessed.
"Really? Wonderful!"
"When do I have to go back?"
"Tomorrow. And the day after that. Five days a week, Little Butterfly."
Cassandra threw her head back and laughed, the first one of the day. She hadn't seen Tatsu answer her as she was looking straight ahead at the time.
"No, really. When do I go back?"
Next Issue: North Gotham is Cassandra to protect, and to do that she needs a network, sources and a working knowledge of what is happening on the ground. Some familiar faces show up as Cassandra begins her work!