Cassandra was the one to find an embarrassed Jason in their father's bed that morning. Cassandra wasn't surprised, not even surprised when Jason stomped into his boots and practically ran out of the room, hair still mussed, and sleep in his eyes. Little brother, Cass thought with a sigh, always trying so hard to hide. She looked over at Bruce, who continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the worry he caused his children, even the ones who pretended they didn't care. They were coping as best they could while they waited, roosting as close as their namesakes; Cass and Steph had come back to the manor last night with Tim, Dick, and Damien. The only ones not home now were Babs and Jason, but apparently Jason was giving into those family instincts too. (Of course Cassandra didn't tell anyone)

He's so still…Cassandra thought as she stood watching Bruce. Another day had passed. Another day the Batman was so unmoving that it was almost frightening to his daughter. Its not right. Even when her dad was stationary, Batman still had a motion to him; an easy tensing in his shoulders and calves, eyes focused and observing, power rippling through his form like the cape on his back. Its not right…

"Miss Cassandra?" Alfred inquired as he entered the room. Cassandra glanced over her shoulder, acknowledging her grandfather's presence. She could see Alfred's worry, an unusual stiffness to his movements that didn't suit the fluid butler, but he masked it beautifully as he in turn took stock of the young woman as well.

"My turn." Cassandra answered before Alfred even asked, putting her pillow next to Bruce's on his bed. Bruce hadn't slept alone since he'd collapsed; Dick, Damien, and Tim (even Jason) had come in and out every day.

A slight smile checked in and out of Alfred's lips, though the delighted twinkle remained, "Shall I bring you an extra blanket?" He knew that she hated to be tucked into bed, would rather sleep on top of the sheets with a loose blanket.

However, tonight Cassandra wanted to be close, would deal with the tucked blankets of Bruce's massive bed, "No, thank you Alfred." Because she wanted to be under the covers with her dad and feel the warmth that indicated he was alive and he was coming back to them.

Alfred nodded regally, understanding in a way that only he could as he picked up the edge of the blankets and ushered Cassandra in. He pulled the sheets on her bottom corner, un-tucking them just so and actually rumpling the blankets just enough that the girl would have a pleasant range of motion. "Goodnight Miss Cassandra." Alfred said and Cass returned a wave and a smile as Alfred left the room.

Cassandra had taught herself to sleep fast, one needed to sleep when and where they could as a rule of thumb in the world she grew up in. Usually the girl's dreams were silent, all conversations were done with bodies and motion. Tonight's dreams were different, voices and words blended perfectly with her quiet understandings. It was…nice. Memories merging and pushing around and through her.

Meeting Batman was awe-inspiring, she was still in some ways amazed by her father- how could one be perfect movement and flow like a raging river unstoppable, and yet also be rooted and unyielding as a mountain? Such a mix of nature and physicality that by all rights should have been at odds with each other was presented in one man in harmony.

She remembered the warm feeling that filled her that first time that Batman pulled her under his cape, close to his side, the vulnerable place where his armor was weakest, where a mere 3-inch blade could tickle his heart if she desired. He tucked her close, protecting her as she had never been, and trusting her, who was raised to kill and nothing more.

The first time she realized that perhaps there was another who was bad at words as she and communicated more with his body. A softness to his normally tight jaw which indicated relaxation around her, the roughened pad of his thumb brushing her cheek as he offered a smile with his eyes that told her he was happy to have her, the ruffle of her hair that was the praise she wasn't used to receiving. A dangerous wrinkle between his brows when anyone should make threats against her (even when he knew she could beat them with one arm behind her back), his hand gentle as he guided her finger on the book as he pronounced words for her, and that tiny hidden smile that he reserved for family, only family, family which included her.

Wake up…she pleaded to dream Bruce, hugging tight to his warmth. Please wake up.

Bruce ached My baby girl is crying. He thought, almost in a panic because Cassandra wasn't his crier.

"All the more reason to piece you back together as fast as possible, yeah?" The voice spoke, as if it didn't know the torture it was making Bruce endure. Alfred and Dick. Barbara and Jason. Now Cassandra. He felt so heavy remembering all that his family had gone through, because of him. "Weight keeps you grounded." The voice murmured velvety with underlying steel, "And now, you have to stop being so damn guilty, because your children have chosen their lives and are still pushing through in their own ways."

It was like being slapped. But-

"Haven't you been learning? And I thought the Batman was supposed to be quick on his toes." The voice snickered.

Learning? He pondered that as he watched his daughter, wanting to brush her hair back and dry her silent tears. His little window, the one who saw things so clearly. The one who let others see light and darkness, gave freedom and offered protection. What am I learning?

"How even lost souls can build a wonderful house."