Click.

The sound of a hammer being pulled back or a racking slide was like raindrops at this point, for all the times she'd heard it. It still might've made her flinch if she hadn't been conditioned not to for far worse stimuli.

The rules were simple. Perform perfectly, no pain. Move just slightly off, and…

She grit her teeth and ran, vaulting over a low box in her way and corkscrewing over a second. The crack of a gun sounded less than fifteen feet from her, the whiz of the bullet just audible past her ear. A trio of large crates stacked in front of her led to a very narrow gap between two pipes. She had to thread the needle, as she'd failed to do the last dozen or so times. She was a half-second fast on the first step, that lead only getting longer with each pull and thrust of her muscles. Her left foot sprung off an upright post to her left, sending her rocketing to the top of the pile. A long jump across the gap while twisting her body sideways sealed the deal.

Or so she thought.

In her excitement, she had forgotten to fully extend her left foot, leaving the toes of her running shoes exposed. They were caught on the rightmost pipe, tripping her up and stuttering her movement. A searing pain shot through the side of her leg a moment later, and she screamed as a bullet tore through the outer muscles and flesh. Her hands were wrapped around a post between the two pipes, pulling hard to keep her moving forward. Another shot ricocheted between the pipes, grazing her left arm. Another, across the center of her back. Breath left her lungs in gasps as her limbs curled inward in a primal attempt at blocking out the pain.

Instead, she fell to the ground—which hurt enough—only to receive another graze across her shoulderblades. Her vision went white with pain as she collapsed face-first into the sand, gasping for breath with all her might. The shuffle of approaching steps in sand reached her slowly recovering ears, and she looked up at the source of the shadow that fell over her small form. She suppressed the urge to stare at him with fear in her eyes—fear would only cause more pain. Instead, she curled her hands into fists and glared up at him with defiance.

He smiled. Raised his left hand palm-up. She pushed her shaking arms against the ground, slowly rising from the sand to stand in front of him.

Wounded, but unbowed.

A flicker of pride entered his eyes before giving way to disappointment and frustration. The left side of her face went numb when he backhanded her. Her head turned with the motion, facing that first box again. Her fiercely burning legs moved, one in front of the other as she returned to the starting line. The snap of a fresh magazine entering the chamber was her starting cue. Her injured leg gave out less than halfway to where she'd gotten before, and before she knew what was happening, a metal crate was fast approaching her face—

…

Knock-knock.

The rhythmic sound snapped Cass from sleep with a faint gasp, her body tense and hands already fisted. The gray eyes that met her startled gaze were framed by raised eyebrows that quickly got a half-step further away. Three heavy breaths entered her lungs before she closed her eyes and slowly exhaled until her heart rate stabilized.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me," she said, eyes closed. "Especially when I'm sleeping."

"Noted."

Cass opened her eyes to see Lucas Carlisle standing on the other side of her cubicle's partition with a faint smile.

He raised his right hand, showing he was holding the source of steam she'd just noticed. "Coffee? You look like you need it."

She glanced at the mug, a tacky hot pink and turquoise combination that made her eyes hurt. But the smell alone called to her, to the point where she was willing to put off her questions for the seconds it would take to relieve him of it.

He frowned when she took her time answering. "Or…do you not take it straight black?"

Cass took another moment to think, still trying to shake off the dream. "Black with two sugars," she replied, gingerly taking it by the base.

He frowned deeper at her unsafe pickup and vanished in a gray blur, an afterimage of his ash-colored jacket. Luke returned a split-second later with a spoon and a handful of sugar that was quickly dropped into the mug's contents and stirred like a blender. He tapped the spoon on the edge of the cup and let the excess drain back in before once again vanishing to the break room. He returned before Cass had even lifted the first drops to her lips. She took a long sip, gently sloshing the dark brew over her tongue and closing her eyes to properly revel in the traces of pick-me-up she was already feeling.

When she finally gulped it down, she laid the mug on her desk and turned back to the computer whose keyboard she'd been using as a pillow. Sighing, she laid into the backspace key and waited for the onscreen mishmash to vanish.

"Any particular reason you're burning the midnight oil?" Luke asked.

Cass arched an eyebrow without looking at him. "Any particular reason you're here?" She frowned and glanced his way. "How did you even find me?"

He shrugged. "It wasn't hard, considering it's 2 a.m. Just had to check all the Wayne Enterprises offices and see which ones still had active workers."

Her other eyebrow rose to meet the first. "Not a small number of places to look."

"I am very fast…and I practically know this city in and out, considering I've seen like…a dozen versions of it." Luke nodded to her. "So, why are you still up and falling asleep at your keyboard?"

Cass pursed her lips, mild irritation lacing her tone. "I'm still on Cambodian time—or I guess hospital time, considering how much of the last few weeks I've spent sleeping."

He winced and draped his arms over the partition. "Yeah, I can imagine. Still, why spend that time here instead of at home resting?"

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "The night we met Janus, we freed a lot of his workers—indentured servants, really. The problem is that few of them have any documentation—proof of citizenship, origin, birth certificate. They have only their word and the clothes on their back; that's why it was so easy to gain their service to begin with."

"So you're having a tough time relocating them."

A nod.

Luke smirked and leaned against the partition. "Well, I imagine a little Wayne money could help grease the wheels of bureaucracy."

She waved at the computer. "That's the idea, but it's a lot harder than you'd think."

"Thus, endless stacks of paperwork and you being here instead of in a warm bed."

"Correct."

Lucas hummed thoughtfully, staring at something off to the side for a second before returning his eyes to her. "Can I help?"

Cass's lips pursed as she looked at him. "Why?"

"Be…cause you look like you could use—"

"Why are you here?"

His eyes flickered up and around in confusion. "Um…'cause I live here now? In Gotham, I mean, not this building—obviously."

"No, I mean why are you here, talking to me?" She arched an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Lucas stared at her for a half-second before chuckling and counting off with his fingers. "Hyperactive, speedster, got nothin' better to do, so I'm bein' nosey." He slouched over the partition, laying his chin on his crossed arms. "I'm a nosey person. Kind of a byproduct of being a speedster, to be honest."

"How's that?"

He shrugged. "In this day and age, I can learn just about everything about a person in just a few seconds after meeting them. But…" he smiled at her, "some mysteries…take a little time and effort."

Cass smirked up at him and reclined in her seat. "And I'm your latest mystery?"

Another shrug. "Why not? You're interesting." His smile widened, a touch cheeky. "I'm interested."

She stared at him blankly, huffing an incredulous laugh. "Not even going to try and mask your intentions?"

His head tilted sideways for a spell as he glanced at the ceiling. "What would be the point? You'd see right through me."

Cass smiled to herself, absently spinning her chair in alternating crescents. "True."

The otherwise deserted office building was silent for a while before Luke spoke up again.

"So, can I help?"

She looked up at him with a faint hum. "Please." She waved at a nearby chair and rubbed her eyes with her other hand. "The words are starting to blur together, and it's not all exhaustion."

"Ah. Dyslexia, right?"

Cass nodded.

"Why would you elect to do paperwork, then?" he asked, almost whining as he rolled up next to her.

She shrugged. "Someone has to."

His head shook slowly, but he said nothing else. "So, I'm just supposed to cross-check the documentation for any loopholes or missed details?"

"Mhm."

"Sweet."

He tabbed out of the company software to access Google, searching for municipal, state, and national codes on immigration and the like. The whiz of information across the screen was so fast, it started making Cass's head spin more than it already was. Finally, he returned to the actual task and began doing the same blurry-screen work that was playing havoc with her equilibrium.

"Had to get up to date on—"

"I figured," she interrupted, looking away from the screen and focusing on her coffee.

A few minutes later, the rapid-fire clicking of his fingers on the keys stuttered for a long moment, which grabbed her attention. As did the mildly bewildered look on his face.

"What?" Cass asked.

His lips moved silently for a moment as he leaned closer to the screen. "Nothing's off about the documentation for this group, but the shipping details are…different than the last few." He pointed at a line item on the screen. "See? Most of the ships contracted to carry them here are filling into the Tricorner Yards, but this one is headed to Cape Carmine. And it's set to arrive tonight." Luke glanced back to see her frowning. "Is that wrong?"

She frowned deeper and gently nudged him aside to get a closer look. "Very. Since these refugees are being moved in small groups, we booked them passage aboard shipping tankers that don't ask half as many questions as passenger liners. If one of them's being rerouted…"

"You think someone inside the company is up to no good?"

Cass flinched as her fingers stuttered over the keys, the lettering of several words overlapping until she shut her eyes tightly and gave her brain a second to rest. A few keystrokes later, and she found the problem. "Apparently not. See this line of metadata?"

"Yeah."

"Oracle taught me how to backtrace the last user, but it's not linking to anyone within the company. In fact, it's not leading anywhere at all." Her lips pursed as she leaned back from the keyboard and pulled out her phone. "At least not where my experience can trace." The phone rang a few times as she put it on speaker, a click answering a moment later. "Oracle, I need an IP trace on the last person to modify the file I'm sending you. Need to know who and where."

Barbara's voice contained traces of surprise that quickly vanished under cool professionalism. "Shoot."

Cass quickly linked her into the system, and a minute later, Oracle spoke again.

"Whoaaakay, so this was a quick job, pretty sloppy about covering up the modification. Not so sloppy about covering their tracks. Don't have the who or where, 'cause from my end, it looks like your hacker nuked their own system after they were done. That's how impossible it'd be to trace the source." A pause was perforated with the quiet rhythmic clicks of keystrokes. "Unless…Cass, I think they're still in the system, just a different…oh God."

"What?" Luke asked, agitated at her tone.

"…who is that?"

"Lucas," Cass answered quickly, "he's a friend. What's wrong?"

"Okay, so I managed to quarantine the hacker's worm, but now they know you know about what they changed. Still can't trace the source, but they've been in the security system for the building for the last five minutes."

Luke frowned. "That's about when I found the weird file."

"And they don't look too happy about it. Check the front door."

Suddenly, Cass's computer screen faded to static briefly before it showed a grainy image of six burly men in track suits and parkas breaking into the building.

"Whoa," Luke chuckled, "now that is some serious response time. And overkill, I'd say."

"Doesn't look like they're too well-armed," Cass noted.

"Probably because they think they're about to steamroll a couple of office interns who drew the short straw," he replied with a predatory grin, rising from his seat. "I'll take care of this."

She stopped him with a hand on his arm. "No superspeed."

He stared at her like she'd grown a second head.

"If that hacker managed to penetrate our security network this easily—no easy feat, given the company's security encryptions—they may still have access to the cameras even without Oracle's knowledge. They see you running around, it's going to raise questions, and while you may not care about keeping your identity secret, I care very much about mine." Cass's eyes narrowed. "No speed."

Lucas' features fell into an irritated deadpan, complete with half-lidded eyes. "Sure, take all the fun out of it."

"Ten seconds until they're through the doors," Oracle said, "thirty before they're on top of you."

"Got it," Cass replied. "Oracle…kill the lights."

Aside from a few emergency exit lights and desk fans, the entire floor instantly descended into darkness.

"Oracle," Luke said softly, "does this place have a PA system?"

"Yes?" she answered uncertainly.

"Would you mind—"

"No," Cass interrupted.

"What?"

"We are not playing music while—"

"Hey, if they can't hear us, we've got home field advantage. Plus, you already banned me from using my speed. You can't take my tunes too. It's one or the other, Cass."

"…what'd you have in mind?"

They heard shuffling from the direction of the stairwell. Luke whispered something into the phone that even Cass couldn't pick up, grinning the whole time. It made her nervous, especially when those gray eyes filled with mischief met her gaze through the shadows. He winked, then gave her phone back as the air around them briefly whined with static. The rhythmic hammer of drums erupted from the speakers above at near-deafening volume before being joined by a forceful male voice, Billy Squier's "The Stroke" spewing from the PA system. Lucas bobbed his head to the tune, mouthing the lyrics to himself as the confused forms of six men entered the floor through the stairwell door.

Cass rolled her eyes and went left, staying low and in the shadows, while Luke did the same on the other side. The group of six split into two groups of three, each taking a separate end of the floor. The first one through of the group on their side held a sawn-off pump-action shotgun, trying his hardest to clear the wide office space despite the heavy shadow and obscured sightlines created by the cubicles. The lack of visibility proved hazardous when Cass grabbed the barrel right above the pump and knife-handed him in the throat. As he gasped for breath, she wrenched the weapon from his grasp and whipped him over the head with it.

The other two behind him whirled toward her only for one to be laid out when Luke came out of nowhere with a flying knee to the shoulder. Something popped and someone screamed as Cass laid into the other confused gunman with the blunt ends of the shotgun, taking out his knee, then pumping the shells it until nothing came out and throwing the empty weapon at one of the three others that came from the other side of the building. Lured by the screams, the front man received a face-full of metal and wood, flopping onto his back with a muffled grunt as the other two tried to get a bead on Cass.

She dove into one of the nearby cubicles as they fired, the rounds tearing through the paper-thin walls but missing her entirely thanks to her flattened position on the ground. A grunt and scuffle was audible from the other side of the walls, along with several more shots that weren't aimed in her direction, prompting her to peek around the edge to see Luke grappling with one of the hitmen. She used their distraction to jump the most isolated one, sprinting past him while throwing her arms around his head. Her momentum yanked him off his feet and into the tiled floor face-first with a sickening crack of bone.

Cass's crouched position lent her extra leverage to roll away from the third gunman's line of sight, his panicked fire tearing through tile and the wall between them but otherwise doing no damage. She peeked around the opposite corner just in time to see Luke shove his opponent back and lay into his face and chest with a cluster of rapid-fire chain punches so fast, she might've suspected he tapped into his speed if she didn't know she was capable of the same thing. He used the man's stunned state to wrench the pistol out of his grip, then whip him in the head with it. The last gunman whirled toward the new armed threat just in time to get kneecapped by Luke, who unloaded and tossed the gun aside with calm, fluid motions as he approached his downed quarry.

Cass cast a confirming glance over the rest of the group to ensure they were out as she moved to join Luke, who was still bobbing his head to the ebbing music in the background while he kicked the conscious goon's weapon away.

"W-Who the hell—"

"Ah-ah-ah," Luke interrupted, "we're asking the questions."

Cass gave the downed thug a severe look, though he couldn't really see it in the darkness. "Who sent you after us, and why?"

"I-I don't—"

"Why were the refugees rerouted?" she pressed.

"I don't know what you're—"

His reply was cut off by a scream resulting from Lucas stepping on the hole in his leg.

"I don't know!" he shrieked. "I go where they tell me to go, do what they tell me to do!"

"Who is they?" Cass growled.

"I don't know his name! The Mask whored us out to some independent who kept us on standby until tonight."

"The Mask? As in Black Mask?"

He remained tight-lipped until Luke put a little more weight on his leg.

"Yes!" he shouted. "Yes!"

"And just where did he keep you on standby?" Lucas asked.

"There's a…warehouse on the old Falcone docks. Sionis used to use it for intake and distribution." He grimaced. "Things got moved after C-Lion got collared."

Lucas cast Cass a questioning look. She shook her head slightly, mouthing, "Later."

"What should we expect to be waiting at that dock?" she asked.

"Shit, I don't know. Far as I knew, we were the only ones there."

Luke looked like he was about to step on him again, but Cass shook her head slightly.

"He's not lying."

The speedster nodded. "Need anything else from this jerk?"

Her head shook again.

Lucas clocked him once, and that was that.

When the police were called hours later, they found a baffling cluster of former Falcone family contractors already trussed and tied.

…

"Okay, back in the office, I understood. Plenty of cameras and eyes. But now there's no one to see me move except the rats and an occasional hobo." Lucas threw Cass a baleful look from the passenger seat of the van they'd stolen from the hit squad. "So why am I not out there wiping the floor with them?"

"Because this wasn't your case until you inserted yourself into my night."

He threw his hands up. "You wouldn't even have a case if I hadn't spotted the alteration!"

She sighed, toying with the hood of her cowl. "The boat containing the refugees isn't set to arrive for another ten minutes. If the dock meant to receive them is empty by the time they arrive—or worse, riddled with unconscious bodies—"

"They'll know something's up and turn around." Luke frowned. "I mean, I could just take out the crew as well. It'd save us all a lot of time."

"Assuming they don't have the civilians wired to something. A year ago, we had Black Mask cornered in a building surrounded by police. No way out." She scowled. "He walked out the front door thanks to the explosive collars around their necks."

"But that guy said he was working for someone independent."

Her head shook. "This is still Sionis' territory. Nothing moves in or out of these docks without his say."

"Well, I can at least map it out."

She looked at him sideways. "You really just want an excuse to run, don't you?"

Lucas was tapping his foot on the ground in rapid-fire. "I never need an excuse to run; running is its own reward when you're a speedster. I just…you know, I'm hyperactive."

Cass smirked. "I hadn't noticed."

He rolled his eyes and laid his head on his hand. The nervous tapping continued.

Sighing, she racked her brain for something to distract him with. "Back in Qurac, you said you'd met alternate versions of me."

He glanced her way. "What about it?"

"Do you always latch onto them like you have me?"

A snort. "I wouldn't say I've latched onto you. Using you and this case as a distraction until the real action with Janus starts up again, sure, but I'm not some stalker."

"Says the man who wanted to 'unravel' my mystery." She shrugged. "Would've thought you'd already known what's relevant, given how many dopplers you've met."

Lucas frowned. "In all honesty, I've never really stuck around long enough to ask about you. I mean, I've worked with other Cass Cains, but…that's all it ever was. Just a one-off partnership."

"Then why is this time different?"

His lips pursed tightly. "Your little brother is at the heart of why I'm sticking around, and you seem pretty invested in taking Janus down too." He smiled wryly. "Plus, who wouldn't jump at the chance to get to know someone who's got the whole package?"

Cass shot him a long look. "Meaning?"

He ticked off his fingers one by one. "Beauty, brains, and badass." He grinned. "Doesn't get much better than that."

Unbidden, she felt her cheeks heating up and turned back to the area they were staking out. "Plenty."

"…what?"

A sigh. "Plenty of people wouldn't jump at that chance." Her head cocked. "Well, getting to know me is one thing. Staying…is another."

He was silent for a long while, long enough to draw Cass's eye. When she looked at him, he was staring at the dashboard.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"Why what?"

"Why don't they stay?"

She sighed again. "All right, that's…not exactly fair. Some people have. The ones who matter did."

"You mean Bruce?"

A nod. "And the rest of the family." A nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. "I remember when I first came to Gotham…Tim was scared to death of me. Then we started working together, and…of everyone, Bruce trusted me most. I mean, he was the first to trust me, and I always wondered why." Her lips pursed. "I think he reached out so quickly for the same reason he took on Damian. Needed to keep me from going down the wrong path. But it became so much more."

"He gave you a family," Luke supplied.

She nodded slowly, frowning. "In more ways than one. I remember that night like it was yesterday." She looked off to the side, staring into infinity as her mind's eye wandered through her memories. "The look on his face, the knowing grin from Tim." Her eyes slipped shut, a smile tugging at her lips.

"You're one of us, Cassandra. You always have been, and I'm sorry I didn't let you know it sooner. Now, I just want to make sure you'll always have a real family…as long as I'm around."

"…you really admire him, don't you?"

Cass glanced his way. "Wouldn't you?"

Lucas stared at her for a while before turning away, a strange, pensive look in his gray eyes. It was some time before he spoke again. "Why wouldn't people want to stick around for you?"

She hummed in thought. "Well, initially, I didn't know how to speak. I didn't even understand words until I was almost twenty. Tone, body language—these were the things I used to understand people."

"Is that…like, because of an extreme form of dyslexia? I've never heard of a type that severe, though…I mean it could be a thing on this Earth."

Her head shook slowly. "I wasn't allowed to speak as a child, wasn't allowed to hear speech. Action was my only language. Movement…and violence."

She could feel him staring at the side of her head.

"So, gradually, the language centers of my brain were reshaped to interpret the language of motion. The language of intent."

"That's…"

"Why I'm so good at reading people." Cass nodded to him. "And why I had you pegged as uninvolved from the moment you showed up in San Francisco."

Lucas' lips pursed. "I meant that's deplorable."

She shrugged. "I've gotten enough care—physical and otherwise—to shore up the language barrier, so it's not really a problem these days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Then why are you still alone?"

Her nonchalant air vanished instantly as she unconsciously slumped into her seat just a tad. "I…intimidate people. Guys especially."

"Well," Lucas said, a tad glib, "yeah. I mean, have you met yourself?"

Cass gave him a sideways glance.

"But more to the point…do you just intimidate guys or…do they feel emasculated?" He frowned. "Because there is a difference."

She was silent for a good bit. "Both, I think…though it's certainly not my intent."

"'Cause of the whole 'Black Bat' thing?"

"Partly, I think. Though not everyone I've tried getting close to knows about my other life. In fact, most haven't. Maybe it's how much I can anticipate, or how little they can hide from me. Between my 'first language' and experience, I'm almost never surprised these days." Cass frowned, one hand unconsciously rising to touch her upper back. "Or maybe it's the scars."

Luke blinked. "Scars? From the job?"

Her head shook. "I mean, some are. Most aren't."

She could feel him tense up.

Cass looked at his painfully neutral features and sighed. In for a penny. "My…biological father raised me alone until I was eight." Her jaw tightened. "His name is David Cain."

"I know that name…from somewhere."

"He's a prolific international assassin."

Lucas' expression darkened.

"He was…hired by Ra's al Ghul to create the perfect living weapon. So he sired me." She rolled her shoulders, absently fingering a spot on her back. "Throughout my childhood, he would train me with live fire. Grazing shots to…deaden my reaction to pain…and discourage failure. The scars on my back were his parting gift when I ran away."

When he didn't say anything, Cass turned toward Luke only to see him staring blankly into the distance. She wasn't sure if it was because he was a speedster, or if Earth-14 humans had different visual tics, or just that he was that good at looking blank; but she had one hell of a time trying to gauge his reaction until he finally turned to face her. When he did, there was something in his eyes she couldn't explain—and certainly never expected.

"I understand," he said softly, no trace of pity in his voice or face. Only grim sympathy that persisted when he turned back to the docks and warehouses.

Cass was perplexed and not about to let it go. "Do you?"

Lucas gave her a slow nod, his voice pure ice. "Let's just say you're not the only one who grew up with a…" the faintest hint of a snarl tugged at his lips, "difficult father."

Her head tilted slightly. "Did yours leave you with scars?"

His jaw tightened. "Not on the outside." He slowly turned to meet her gaze. "But then, I think we both know those are the easiest to heal."

Lucas returned his attention to their surroundings, both of them falling into a brooding silence that persisted until she glimpsed movement from inside one of the larger warehouses close to the docks. A large truck pulled up to the loading dock around the side of the building, no plates visible on front or back, when it finally came to a stop.

"Does that look big enough to hold the refugees?" he asked.

"More than," Cass replied with a small frown, putting a small scope to her eye to get a good look at their security. "That's far too big, in fact." She tapped her earpiece. "Oracle, do we know what else this freighter is hauling?"

Her voice came back over the connection a few moments later. "Official manifest says oil and textiles, but if they were coopted by someone else, there's no telling what they're actually carrying."

"I can find out without being spotted, you know," said Lucas. "It's okay to ask for help."

Though said in a teasing tone, there was a distinct note of irritation in his voice, so Cass finally relented.

"Fine," she said, "but recon only."

He snapped her a two-fingered salute. "Back in a jiff."

A gust of wind and flash of silver lightning later, and Luke was gone. Cass sighed and turned back to the warehouse, leaning into the wheel slightly.

"He likes you."

Cassandra nearly flinched at the voice coming from her PDA. A sigh left her throat before her reply. "He doesn't know me."

"Well your attempts at scaring him off haven't worked yet, so that's a good start."

"What attempts?"

"Cass…come on. You've never opened up about your father to anyone that fast…or had anyone so blatantly interested in you from the jump."

She huffed in frustration. "Whether he's interested or not is irrelevant. Intent is never ambiguous with me; it's never a question of if, but why."

"Not knowing the why is no reason to actively sabotage yourself."

"There's nothing to sabotage, Barbara. Not yet."

"Sooooo what, you don't want there to be?"

"Should I?"

A sigh came over the line. "Cass…when was the last time you did something…spontaneous, impulsive—maybe a little stupid—just for the fun of it? Hell, when was the last time you had fun? Like, real fun?"

She remained tight-lipped.

"I know the experiences you've had in the past, Cassie. I know it can feel safer to just…be alone. Trust me, I know. But making yourself terminally unavailable isn't the answer to that void in your chest."

"At least it's a sure thing," Cass retorted a little testily.

"…yeah, well. You want certainty? I've got some for you: if you push away anyone new who wants to get closer, there is a 100% chance that void gets bigger. You're not a solitary person, Cass. You've ended up that way most of your life for reasons beyond your control, but that's not what you want, and you know it. It's easier for you to be there because you're used to it and change is scary, but it's not better. Even if the new is uncertain, it's worth it to give yourself a shot at really being happy."

When Cass didn't respond, Barbara sighed and continued.

"Put it this way…if this backfires, you can pull off the bandage all at once, or draw it out over months of doubt and what-ifs. You know what my opinion is, but I'm not gonna hound you about it. Your call."

The van fell silent after that. In fact, it was a little too quiet, so Cass tapped her PDA until it hit Lucas' frequency and called him up.

"Yep," he said.

"Where are you? Thought you said you'd be back soon."

"Yeah, turns out this place is a lot more than a drop-off point for tonight's activities."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it wasn't enough to recon the ship—which was filled to the brim with oil drums by the way—I took a look at the whole complex, and let me tell you, these guys are not messin' around. Motion sensors, IR cameras, electronic security, and that's just the stuff built into the landscape. The guards are a whole other problem. Kitted out to the nines in next-gen military-grade weapons. Crap armor, though, but then that's not really a factor with us."

Cass frowned and pulled her mask on. "Did you see what was behind all that security?"

"No, didn't want to take the chance those motion sensors are speedster-grade."

"Smart."

"Told you I could do this," Lucas said with a teasing lilt.

"Yes, but did you check the actual contents of the oil drums?"

"…"

"Might want to—"

"Droga droga droga!"

Cass stopped halfway out the door of the van, confused. "What?"

A chuckle came from the other end. "Drugs. Cocaine and heroin specifically."

She frowned. "Assuming every barrel is filled with the same, we could be dealing with a shipment worth millions. Or at least several hundred thousand, if the cargo hold is packed to the brim."

"Startin' to look like the people onboard are more incidental than causal."

"But why coopt a ship booked by Wayne Enterprises?"

"Probably for the same reason you hired them in the first place."

Her eyes widened behind the mask. "Greased palms make for fewer questions asked."

"Bingo," came a voice right beside her.

Cass flinched, but didn't jump as she turned to face Rev, who was grinning smugly. She hadn't heard a thing, not even the residual wind of his arrival.

Trained by Deathstroke and Nightwing…I see it now.

He must've been an exceptional student to have snuck up on her so easily, especially with the usually high-profile nature of his powers.

Giving him one last glance, Cass turned back to their target of interest and silently made her way to the edge of the fence surrounding it. This time, she was listening and feeling for the faintest puff of wind—and detected it, yet nothing otherwise when Rev appeared at her side.

"What are you thinkin'?"

Cass frowned behind her mask, the lenses over her eyes giving her a thermal sweep of the grounds. "Too many to take on directly, and that'll only get worse once the crew disembarks. I guarantee either the contractor or Sionis would've put some of their men on that ship for insurance."

"And to ensure the passengers' compliance."

"That too." Cass tapped the side of her cowl, switching from thermal to EM frequencies that lit up the power grid and several hotspots. "I can see all the security you mentioned. Our best bet is to nab the passengers as they're being offloaded, before they're behind all that security."

"And the drugs?"

Her head shook. "Secondary."

"Right. Bait and switch?"

Cass shot him a glance.

"You know, when you sub out—"

"I don't see the relevance."

Rev pointed to himself. "Bait." Then out at the bay. "Switch."

"…oh. If I'm extracting them, then I'll need that truck."

"Think we can secure it quietly?"

She smiled behind the mask.

…

The muffled cry of a man being punched unconscious drew the attention of two others who were mounting seats in the back of the truck. They exchanged a glance, then drew MAC-10s from their belts and sidled up around the edge of the trailer. The limp body near the passenger-side door of the cab immediately drew their attention, one stooping to check on him while the other kept scanning for threats. A strangled yelp came from the one standing watch, his partner whirling upright only to find empty space where he'd been. His shaking hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out a handheld radio. The instant before he hit the transmit button, a living shadow dropped from the top of the trailer and landed on him feet-first, slamming his head into the concrete.

A flicker of silver lightning briefly illuminated the figure's faceless mask before the speedster shouldered the remaining bodies and sped them elsewhere. Black Bat reached up to catch the keys he'd tossed her way, then made her way to the driver side and pushed them into the ignition. She shut the door quietly, then fired a grapnel at the upper edge of the building next to the truck and set about waiting for the ship's arrival. Five seconds after she settled in, a faint puff filled the air briefly, and she felt Rev settle down next to her.

He held up the radio he'd taken off one of the guards. "Want to jack in?"

She nodded and took it from him, tapping a few controls on her gauntlet to isolate their specific encryption, then linked Rev into the frequency. The static that erupted over the link lasted about a second or two before resolving into the grainy audio common to such communication devices. Luke tapped the ear of his cowl, glancing her way before returning his eyes to scanning the area. The radio link was mostly quiet until about a minute later, when a sultry female voice dominated the airwaves.

"Almost here? I do hate to be kept waiting."

A burst of static preceded the answer, probably from the boat. "Almost, mistress. Just needed to make sure the passengers don't get rowdy."

A hint of laughter was in the woman's reply. "Oh? And how did you manage that?"

"A magician never reveals his tricks—or hers, in your case." Whoever was on the other end sounded like he was having fun with this inane banter.

"…put a gun to their heads?"

"Something like that. I don't speak whatever it is they do, but threat of death is a pretty universal language."

"Indeed," she replied with a touch of malevolent glee.

Rev's eyes squeezed shut, lips pursing tightly.

Cass noticed. "What?"

His head shook slightly. "I know that voice from somewhere—the woman, I mean. Be triply careful, Black."

She frowned and touched her earpiece. "Oracle, do you think you can triangulate the source of each speaker?"

"Hmm…maybe," she replied. "Rev, can you move to the opposite end of the compound? Northeast corner, no more than five hundred meters from Black Bat."

"You got it," he said before vanishing with a gust of wind.

Tense seconds of silence passed as Black Bat scanned the compound for any signs of detection or movement, especially along the waterfront.

"All right," Oracle said. "Attempting triangulation…damn, they stopped talking."

"I can try to get eyes on," Luke offered.

Black Bat's head shook, though he obviously couldn't see it. "Negative. We have bigger concerns than that woman. We know whoever's on the other end is on that ship, and he's got the passengers at gunpoint."

"Then he's my first target. Get him as soon as they're off the gangplank, then bolt and draw their attention off while you evacuate the civvies."

"Sounds like a plan. How do you intend to draw their attention?"

His maniacal chuckles were the only response.

…

As soon as the small tanker groaned to a stop in port, movement picked up on both sides of the pier. Between the sudden fog and darkness, visibility was next to nil. That only increased when the refugees from Singapore were being ushered across, surprisingly not at gunpoint, though they remained visibly frightened at the presence of the trenchcoat-wearing figure at their heels. Whispered Malay and Cantonese peppered the air around the pier as the huddled forms ambled along, heads down. Suddenly, the rear man shouted, and they all jerked to a stop as if yanked by the collar. He looked around suspiciously as the fog thickened around the pier, to where one could hardly see two feet on front of their face.

Then they heard it: the biting, cold winter wind whose voice had sharpened from a shrill whine to a banshee's shriek. And was whipping around them in an unnatural cyclone, gathering the surrounding fog into an impermeable gray screen. If one was standing at the edge of the fog and looking for it very carefully, they might have been able to catch just the faintest hint of a white blur just beyond, trailing silver sparks. Mr. Trenchcoat raised one hand in front of his face, waving through the fog as if to dispel it, finding his range of motion impeded by the massive air resistance. Then his other hand dipped to his belt and whipped a long, curved knife out of an ornate sheath, snapping it through the air several times.

The path of the blade left behind something, several somethings, in fact: glowing trails of violet-white energy that formed some sort of shape—or rune. When the shape was finished, he thrust the jeweled pommel of the knife into its center. Immediately, the tempest faded to a dull roar, the fog thinning out just enough to extend his vision to the source of the whirlwind. Before he could do anything else, though, that white blur veered off its course and nailed him in the upper chest with a blow that sent him flying and spinning into the water. Panicked shouts erupted from either side of the pier as the civvies all hit the deck at the sound of cocking weapons.

The snap and pop of breaking bones followed a moment later, one of the guards yanked into the shadows behind a crate, prompting the attention of the others. Lightning struck in a jagged pattern across the pier, sending the rest of the escorting gunmen tumbling into the water or various flotsam. Calm Malay in an altered voice came from behind the crate, beckoning the passengers to follow. They exchanged startled, uncertain looks as they slowly regained their footing. They started moving faster when Black Bat stepped out from the shadows, some of them recognizing her from Singapore. Her presence was a constant at the front of the group, scanning the environment for any movement.

Her connection to their radio link flared up suddenly, a gravelly voice reporting hostile movement on the far east side of the wharf. Another, higher-pitched, flooded the line with reports of police on the west side. It took Cass a few seconds to realize what was happening, and when she did, she smiled under the mask. Rev was using his fine vibrational control over his vocal cords to modulate his voice and jam the radio frequency with misinformation meant to draw potential conflict away from their path out. And it was working. Suddenly, a gust of wind came from her side, and Rev was there, smirking.

"Thought the idea was 'bait and switch,'" she said.

The smile vanished from his face as he glanced back toward the pier. "Yeah, that was before I knew the contractor's people had freakin' magic. The less we have to deal with, the better."

Whatever Black was about to say next was cut off by a crack of lightning that split a nearby light post, streaking just past Rev's head when he ducked at the last possible second. From her point of view, Rev was looking at her one second, coiled up on the ground the next, though the blinding flash of light had left her reeling. The clear lenses over her eyes mitigated some of the damage, but it was still like having a flashbang go off two feet in front of her. As a result, she recoiled and waved blindly at where she remembered the civilians being, motioning them toward the nearest cover she could recall. Assuming they could even see her motions.

When her vision cleared enough to perceive her surroundings, Black Bat became immediately aware of Rev's blurred form streaking around their attacker, a very waterlogged Mr. Trenchcoat. Strange that he would be slinging around lightning bolts given his wet state, but the faintly glowing dagger he held seemed to serve as both insulator and lightning rod. Both were tested when he hurled another bolt into Rev's path—an amazingly well-aimed and timed shot. Azure arcs lanced toward the speedster, who stopped in his tracks not twenty feet from the spellcaster. It took Cass a split-second to realize he hadn't been hit so much as run right into the shock. And the smirk on his face was unmistakable as his arms vibrated at near-invisible speeds.

His hands crackled with electricity of blue and silver, the blue slowly turning silver as the air around him whined and screeched with the barely-contained energy. Then his body snapped toward the spellcaster, and he hurled back a lightning bolt containing the original energy and a portion of his own. Mr. Trenchcoat (she needed to find a better epithet for this guy) just held out his dagger, attracting every tongue of electricity to the artifact—or was "totem" the proper term? Working out in the grit of East Asia had rusted her internal database of knowledge. She needed to brush up on her magic.

Whatever the nomenclature, the dagger seemed to absorb the lightning rather than let it deal any damage to its user. A second later, Cass realized what was actually happening when the electric arcs twisted and morphed to form a roiling extension to the dagger's blade.

Rev stood and gaped at the sight. "A plasma sword?! Really?!"

Black saw the spellcaster smirk an instant before he charged at her. Rev met him halfway. Well, technically he intercepted him from the side, clotheslining him before he could close the distance to Cass. The spellcaster swung behind him blindly, his weapon failing to find its mark since Rev had already moved on.

"New plan!" she shouted, running at the fallen sorcerer. "Get them out of here!"

Lucas came to a stop just within sight of her, visibly worried. "I can't leave you—"

"Not a debate!" Cass yelled as she barreled into her opponent, one hand locked around his wrist to keep his sword from being used.

A disgruntled noise came from Rev a split-second before the air erupted with fast-shifting currents, abuzz with the sound of rushing wind and crackles of electricity. She couldn't see it, but while she was busy grappling with the spellcaster, the civilians disappeared in droves, no doubt relocated to the truck for their escape. They struggled over the weapon for a good three seconds, constantly shifting weight and torque. He knew what he was doing, whoever this was—aikido mixed with a bit of judo.

So she decided to test just how studied he was. Cass leaned into one of his tugs, seemingly mistaking his intent and giving him a bit of leverage. He immediately took advantage, tried to yank her off-balance and trip her. Instead, she used that forward motion to flip backward around his arm and shoulder, clinching his head under her right arm while her left controlled the knife. Her knee sent his totem flying from his grasp. His other arm wrapped around her waist as he lunged, using his bent-over state to try for a tackle.

She shifted her feet back, boots skidding through the gravel as she barely managed to keep her footing. Growling, she let go of his hand and reached for her belt. Her grapnel anchored to an overhead light post, the reel hurling both of them through the air. Her motion, unlike his, was balanced. She heard a faint snarl, then a whistle of air as a faint glow caught her eye. The fallen dagger crackled with electricity as it flew toward them, arcing to slice through her grapple line. They both tumbled toward the ground, Cass's cloak expanding to slow their descent.

In saving them, she left herself vulnerable. Cass was thrown to the ground, immediately rolling backward out of it. A whistle pierced the air once more. She threw her arm up on instinct, feeling a dull impact as the flying dagger bounced off her gauntlet. He hadn't moved at all except to stride toward her. So he was controlling it mentally, effectively adding a second assailant to this fight, one she could barely see coming. Damn.

Cass smirked and cracked open a smoke pellet to even those odds.

A bola whirred through the air, wrapping around his neck and slapping its sides with the attached metal balls. The sudden impact momentarily cut off blood flow to his brain. He collapsed halfway before regaining control. In a moment of panic, he sent the dagger hurtling toward her last location. She was already behind him. In his weakened state, it took a mere five seconds of a tight headlock to render him unconscious. A faint clatter sounded against the gravel as the night wind finally dissipated the smoke.

The inactive dagger totem lay on the ground. Cass frowned and finished restraining its owner, then strode over to it and gave it a once-over. She hesitated to touch it, in case it had some kind of hex. Rev apparently had no such issues.

He was there a split-second later, standing upright and turning the dagger over. "Huh. Rune inscriptions. Looks like a mix of Sumerian and Mediterranean languages."

Cass arched a brow. "You can read it?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "but I recognize the common form. My Earth's Raven taught me a bit about magic. Sad to say I'm a little rusty." He tossed the weapon up and caught it with a flourish. "You should probably hold onto this. Get the Bat to analyze it thoroughly."

She nodded and gingerly took it, placing it in an evidence pouch. She motioned to the inactive magician. "Think you can—"

"One STAR Labs sciencell comin' right up." He winked and vanished with the prisoner.

Cass exhaled sharply, taking stock of the situation. Apparently while evacuating the passengers, Rev had eliminated any further armed resistance. Faint sirens reached her ears right as she came within sight of the refugees. She remained only long enough to see them being taken into custody and a cordon set up to apprehend the rest. Cass made it back to the stolen van only to stop short at the sight of Rev already leaning against it.

Her head shook slowly. She tapped her earpiece. "Oracle, police are on-scene and securing the area."

"Copy. Everything okay? You've been out of contact for a while."

"We're fine. Just…had a bit of a magic situation. It's taken care of."

"…lovely. Figures now that Di lives here, we start attracting more weirdos. Any idea who this one was?"

"None. Never seen him before."

"His dagger totem has ancient runes that smack of Southeast Europe and the Middle East," Lucas said. "Could be Bialyan."

Cass frowned. "You think this ties to Janus?"

He shrugged. "No idea."

"We won't know until we get a positive ID," Oracle said.

"On him or the dagger?"

"Both, preferably. I'll let Diana know about the dagger. She's a wizard with obscure languages." A brief pause filled with faint keystroke clicks. "You two did great tonight. Get some rest." Her tone hardened a bit. "Especially you, Cass."

Cass rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom."

Barbara snickered. "You earned it. Oracle out."

The line clicked off, leaving them alone with only the cold breeze and the faint din of activity from the police cordon.

"You hungry?" Luke asked.

Cass blinked and smiled as she removed her mask, shaking her head. "More exhausted than hungry."

Luke huffed and smiled. "Fair enough. Wayne Manor then?"

She blinked and stared at him for a second. She shrugged and sighed. "Sure, why not?"

It wouldn't have been the first time he carried her. A moment later, he was cradle carrying her, grip firm but gentle.

Luke cleared his throat. "Neck?"

Cass nodded and hooked her arms around his neck for support. He smiled faintly and looked toward the horizon with a flicker of silver electricity. Then lightning danced all around them and the world warped and shifted, as if seen through water. He was the only steady object in her vision, eyes constantly flickering back and forth, scanning his environment. It was the first time she noticed he looked as tired as she felt.

Then, suddenly, it was over.

He lowered her to the ground, right at the manor's front door. Cass huffed and looked at him.

"Thanks…for tonight."

Lucas smiled. "Thanks for having me. I will try to be less annoying next time."

"Next time?" Cass smirked faintly, crossing her arms. "And can I get that in writing?"

Luke grinned. "I'll try." His smile thinned a bit. "Get some rest, Cass." He winked and took a few steps back. "Don't be a stranger."

She blinked, and all that was left was the faintest flicker of lightning in her peripheral vision. Cass shook her head and rubbed a hand over her sweat-streaked face as she opened the door and headed for a nice long shower.

Whether from the night's favorable resolution, the company, or sheer exhaustion; it was the first time she'd slept soundly in weeks.

AN: We're back baby! I'd started this chapter well over a year ago, but I lost steam for a while so I couldn't finish it. I'm still trying to map this story out in a coherent way so I have an actual structure to write from. Whenever I don't have that framework, I tend to lose inspiration. Gotta have a roadmap to know where I'm going.

Establishing a format for this story has proven much more difficult than the first one, given the extended cast of characters. I know the basics of where I want to focus, but the specifics and flow are proving to be much more challenging to nail down. I'm still working out the kinks, so please be patient if things feel a little disjointed or stuttery at times.

I'd prefer to have the whole story done at once, but I don't want to let my content remain stagnant while I'm searching for inspiration. I will, however, only start releasing once I have at least one fleshed out story arc finished. This chapter is kind of a standalone, but I also have two more that represent their own finished arc, so expect more next week and the week after.

As I believe I've said several times in the past, Cassandra Cain is one of my top five all-time favorite DC characters. Since we didn't get much time with her in Origins, I wanted to take this opportunity to remedy that. Now that Jason's character has been fully established and fleshed out, I can finally utilize Bruce and Diana more fully, as well as expand on the supporting cast.

The poll that went up during the release of Origins about villain appearances is very important and very much relevant to what I'll be doing with this story, so if you haven't submitted your top five, go to my author page and do that ASAP. Watching Superman and Lois and the Snyder Cut Justice League has given me a few ideas and bits of inspiration, so I'll do my best to keep writing as much as I can.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Drake out.

Formatting notes:

– Internal Thoughts/Flashback
– "Super-Hearing/Surveillance"
– Telepathy/Divine Speech
– "{Foreign Language}"
– [Text Message]