"Hey, Cass?"
Dick's words were tentative, and as Cass turned to face him, she could see that he looked nervous. She didn't know why yet, but she was sure he would tell her.
She could guess at some things, but to be honest, she was still relearning some of Dick's body language. He'd changed with Deathstroke, and while he had his memories back, he was still different. Cass wondered if he'd ever be the same again.
She nodded at Dick encouragingly. He still hesitated, so she raised her hands and signed, What do you need?
"I... I wanted to ask about how I move," Dick admitted. "I know- Do I move differently than I did before? When you read me... do I seem different?"
Cass hesitated. Dick did seem different in some ways, but she had the feeling that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. She didn't want to lie to him, but she also didn't want to upset him. Dick was fragile now, every line of his body screamed it. Physically, perhaps, he was the sturdiest of them all, but emotionally, she knew he was only barely beginning to recover from everything Deathstroke had put him through. She didn't want to tell him something that would make that process even harder.
"So I am different?" Dick asked ruefully. Cass had waited too long to answer, and she could see that he'd drawn his own conclusions. "I figured."
Cass raised her hands, trying to think of how to put this into words. Different, but the same.
"What are the different parts?" Dick asked. "And what's the same?"
Cass hesitated, then she reached for Dick's arm. She telegraphed her motions clearly, letting him see that she was going to grab him, and when he didn't pull away, she wrapped her hand around his arm and started dragging him through the house. They weren't far from Bruce's study, so she dragged him inside, and then through the passageway behind the clock.
"Cass? Why are we in the Cave?"
Cass led Dick to the training mats, then she stepped onto them and bounced on the balls of her feet. She pointed at Dick, then at the spot in front of her.
Cass didn't need to be good at reading people to see the way the color drained from Dick's face. "Cass, I- No. I can't. I'm not- It's not safe."
Cass raised an eyebrow and gestured at herself. She knew that Dick was strong now, but she still didn't think that she had much to fear.
"I could hurt you," Dick protested. "I- I hurt Bruce. I'm not going to- I need to get myself under control first."
Afraid, Cass signed.
"I am afraid," Dick agreed. "I'm afraid of myself, and I'm afraid of hurting you-"
Cass slashed her hand through the air, cutting through Dick's words. Afraid of Bruce.
"I- What?"
Cass had noticed it before Dick even got his memories back. He'd been jumpy around all of them back then, but he'd been noticeably more jumpy around Bruce and Jason. She didn't think it was a coincidence that the two who made him the most nervous were the two with the body type closest to Deathstroke.
She tried to put that into words. Bruce reminds you of Deathstroke.
"What- Bruce does not- He's nothing like Deathstroke!"
Cass shook her head. Body, she signed. Same size. Body knows before brain does. Body is afraid.
Dick blinked. "I- I mean, I guess-"
She gestured at herself. Not same size. Not scary.
Dick cracked a small smile. "I'm pretty sure some people think Black Bat is scarier than Batman."
Cass grinned back, perhaps showing a few too many teeth. Scary, but not big. Not like Deathstroke. She gestured at the mat. Spar.
Any levity drained from Dick's face in an instant. "Cass, I can't- Maybe some of what happened with Bruce was an instinctive reaction leftover from Deathstroke, but that doesn't change the fact that I've been fighting lethally for the past six months. I'm trying to unlearn it, but..." He shook his head. "It's stupid that it's so hard to unlearn, but it's become muscle memory. It's hard. And I don't want to hurt you."
Cass shook her head. Not going to hurt me.
"You can't promise that."
Not going to let you.
"Cass-"
Cass stepped forward and swung at Dick. He ducked under it in surprise, and she swept her leg around in an attempt to get his feet out from under him. He managed to dodge her just in time.
"Fight," she said aloud, and she lunged forward again.
Even as Cass attacked him, Dick didn't do anything other than dodge her. He didn't even really defend himself. Cass sighed. If he was going to keep being stubborn, she'd have to redouble her efforts. He was faster and stronger and sturdier now, but she was pretty sure she could still beat him in a fight if she tried.
Normally, she didn't try too hard when she was sparring. Today, she'd make an exception.
Dick seemed a bit startled when Cass burst into motion, moving faster and with more focus than before. He tried to keep dodging, but she moved too quickly; a few blows landed before he could get out of the way. She could see that he was itching to at least block her hits, but he stubbornly refused to.
"Fight," she said again, swinging at him. Her fist connected, and Dick did nothing more than roll with it. "Fight," she said, kicking him. "Fight-"
"Fine," Dick finally growled, and he started fighting back.
He moved differently in a fight too. Cass had known that he would. He'd always been graceful, and he'd always been strong, but now he moved differently. He was still graceful, and he was still strong, but he moved like a predator.
He still fought like someone who was weaker than their opponent. She knew that Bruce had taught him like that back when he was Robin, and he'd kept it up as Nightwing. Nightwing was strong, of course, but he was more flexible and graceful than anything, and so he did end up fighting people stronger than him.
She wondered how many people Dick would fight now who were stronger than him. She wondered about how he used to fight with Deathstroke.
The spar went on for longer than Cass's spars with Dick used to. He'd always been a good fighter, one of the best in the family, but now, he was even better. She could see, though, how he kept moving in ways that would be lethal, and then remembering himself at the last second. A few times, he didn't seem to remember himself at all, but it wasn't a problem; Cass didn't let his blows land.
Finally, though, she pinned Dick with a forearm to the throat and raised an eyebrow. For a moment, she thought he'd keep struggling, but then he relaxed against the mat.
"You win."
Cass nodded and got up off of Dick. "You move differently."
Dick accepted her hand to pull himself to his feet. "How?"
She hesitated, then she raised her hands to sign. You always fought like you were smaller. Weaker. But you were not afraid.
Dick blinked. "Are you saying I'm afraid now?"
We are sparring. You do not need to be afraid. You are afraid. You move like a real fight.
Dick's face paled. "Then Bruce was right. I shouldn't be sparring with anyone-"
Cass shook her head. Not dangerous. She hesitated. Not dangerous to me. You are afraid. Deathstroke made you afraid.
Dick was quiet for a long moment. "He wasn't kind," he finally said. "And when we sparred... It wasn't like how we spar here."
Cass nodded. She could imagine what it was like. She'd grown up sparring like that, like it was a real fight, knowing that she would be hurt if she didn't win, if she wasn't careful. She wondered how much Deathstroke was like David Cain. She imagined he was a lot like him.
"You said I was only afraid of Bruce like that," Dick said. "I- I didn't think I was afraid of you."
Bruce and Jason, Cass corrected. With them... It's different. With them, you are afraid of them. You are afraid of how they move. You tense if they are behind you.
Dick swallowed. "I- Sometimes, I see something out of the corner of my eye, and I think it's Deathstroke, but it's just Bruce."
When sparring, you are afraid of losing. You fight like a real fight. You fight like I will hurt you if you lose.
"You said I was different, but the same," Dick said. "Is this what's different?"
Fear is different, Cass said. Strength is different. Grace is different. She reached out and put her hand on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Kindness is the same. Gentleness is the same.
"I just want to go back to the way I was," Dick said. "I want things to be normal again. I don't want to be afraid, I don't want to move like a killer, I just want to forget everything that happened with Deathstroke and go back to normal."
A long time ago, before Cass found her family, she also moved like a killer. It was all she had been taught. She still did sometimes, but she didn't act on it. She trusted Dick could be the same.
Dance with me.
Dick blinked at her. "Dance?"
Cass nodded. Move in a new way. Not like a killer.
"Does that help?" Dick asked, eyeing her closely. "Did it help you?"
Cass nodded again. It had helped. She'd learned how to move in a way that had nothing to do with violence, in a way that required perfect control over her whole body. Dick, she knew, already knew how to move in ways that had nothing to do with violence, but given that he'd had little cause to use that knowledge for six months, she didn't think it would hurt to learn a new one.
"Okay," Dick said, nodding. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Will you teach me how to dance?"
Cass smiled. She stood in front of Dick, her feet facing out to either side and her arms curled in front of her.
"First position," she told him, then she gestured for him to repeat after her.
Dick smiled back, and he did.