[[Author's note: I really kinda rushed into this one without doing nearly enough planning or editing. If you've been keeping up, thanks for your patience. It might behoove you to look at the first three chapters again. I did less to each as I did some editing, and needed a little bit to settle on which ideas I wanted to do with this story. Thanks so much for the support]]

Amongst the small crowd that poured out from Saint Michael's Cathedral that Wednesday night after mass and a pancake supper, only one was headed for the sidewalk instead of the parking lot or whistling for a cab. She was only a mile from her home, and she liked the walks to digest her thoughts. She was an Asian woman with a medium length head of black hair and a silver cross around her neck. A gift from her father.

Bruce was never a religious man. The cross had been less an acknowledgement of her faith as it had been a celebration of her personal choices and finding her own way in life. A weaker person than Cassandra Cain may have found their sense of faith destroyed by a world of tragedy such as hers.

Not, that she reflected silently, her religious life was always easy. In her childhood her biological father had forced her to endure years of pain and discipline. Even after finding a way to apply her deadly skills to something right and good amongst her family, she was forced to watch comrades and friends fall in the line of duty. Within the same year she discovered and joined the Catholic Church, she had been tortured for her beliefs. And shortly thereafter, she'd met the love of her life, a young woman named Sadie, only to wonder if the church would ever treat their marriage with anything but dissent.

Could be worse, she regularly told herself. It was worse in my head. Sadie had been an open secret since their marriage. Some talk spread amongst her fellow parishioners when they were encountered outside of mass and some had given her looks of clear disapproval. Even Monsignor Ryan, the initial inspiration for her religious life, remained uncomfortably quiet when she tried to talk about her relationship. Sometimes Cassandra wondered if he only continued to allow her to take communion because she had saved his life years before.

Sadie's agnosticism had helped to dispel some of the trouble as well. Since the two were never in church together, they could not be observed or judged in the middle of mass. Cassandra's public religious life remained firmly in one corner of her life, while private faith and private love had remained in another.

It was a relief for her to finally stop dressing up in uniform at night. Being Cassandra at church and Cassie at home had become complicated enough without dressing as Angel at night. And more than anything else, it was just nice to not be fighting anymore.

"Yo! Fortune cookie! I just had my take out and I'm ready to crack you open and see what's inside!"

… Usually.

Cassandra stopped in her place and gave a glare at the gangly man trying to solicit her, a few cronies of his a few steps behind, laughing at his bad joke. "Where you comin' from pretty lady?"

"Church." Cassandra said, turning to face them and adjusting her jacket, a tiny glint flashing off her diamond ring.

"Oooh, yeah?" Their leader asked, crossing over to her. He stank of some awful drug, though she was too out of practice to identify what. He reached into his shirt and flashed a rosary. "What a coincidence. It's my good luck charm."

"You aren't supposed to wear those," Cassandra said as her anger continued to build.

"Where's your husband at?" The heavy standing just behind the rosary wearing man asked. "He shouldn't let a pretty thing like you walk out here all alone. These streets is dangerous."

Cassandra clenched her fists, sure a fight was coming, but doing everything in her power to not escalate the situation. Even as the thugs made themselves increasingly attackable. "My wife is at home, waiting for me." As the men continued to laugh and drop condescending one liners, she got a good look at her opposition. Four of them: their leader with the rosary, the heavy with torn sleeves, standing probably six and a half feet, and two more for support, one with a knife, the other with a baseball bat. A little smile came across Cassandra's face.

Lord, forgive me, she said to herself. I had one too many bad stares at mass tonight.

"Why don't you bring that broad down too? We can show you both how a real man does it."

"I am giving you a chance," Cassandra said slowly. "Go away. I won't ask again."

The gang's leader was laughing harder now than ever as his goons started to close in. "Tell you what China doll, I like your style. How about we just start with the mouth?" And with that he mockingly stuck out his tongue, a rhinestone stud running through the center.

This was Cassandra's breaking point. Too fast for the hit to properly be seen she punched the man right between the eyes with her left hand, her diamond ring leaving a violent mark on his face before he fell to the ground like it was nothing. His three cronies stared down at him in disbelief before turning and all setting upon Cassandra at once.

Good. I needed some exercise.

Cassandra did not believe in engaging any longer in battle than absolutely necessary, it had been part of her philosophy for as long as she had been in costume. But years of facing opponents had long since taught her that most opponents were persistent, and it would take a little extreme force to keep them down.

When the three reached her Cassandra dodged first to the side of the attacker with the baseball bat. Grabbing a firm hold on his right arm, Cassandra pulled and twisted it until he yelled out in pain and released the weapon. With another jerk and twist she threw him to the ground and grabbed ahold of the bat. When the one with the knife took a stab, Cassandra swatted it out of his hand with the wooden bat, shuffled forward and kicked him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground as well.

With only the heavy remaining, Cassandra adjusted her jacket again to face him, the man stunned by the short order he'd disposed of his comrades before attempting to strike her himself. He took the longest to bring down, sustaining over five punches to the face and three kicks to the gut, but couldn't lay a finger on the former Batgirl. In short order the three reinforcements were on the ground, groaning in defeat.

Cassandra was about to resume her trek home when she turned to see the man with the rosary leaning against a nearby building, raising a pistol towards her head. "You just had to give me a screw, dyke!" He yelled. "Forget it, I'm blowing your brains out!"

Her eyes darted towards the ground. His aim would be off thanks to the punch, she would be able to dodge him fine. Without another moment of thought, she lunged towards a nearby alley just as the roar of a bullet filled the air. Followed by another, another and another.

However, when Cassandra stood up to take her stance again, she became aware of the disturbing moment that had just passed. The man with the rosary hadn't even managed to pull the trigger: someone else had fired and shot him right in the head. In disbelief, Cassandra looked towards his three companions, now also lying in growing pools of blood. She turned up at the dark alley she had dodged into, looking for someone to have pulled the trigger. "You killed them!" She shouted. "I didn't need that, you shouldn't have done it!"

The alley set, black and silent for a few seconds before, still shrouded in complete darkness, a voice said, "Attempted physical and sexual assault. Those men broke the law. Now they won't break it again."

Cassandra double took and was forced to take a step back. That voice… No, she insisted to herself. No… No that's impossible. Impossible in every way. "Who are you?" She demanded.

"I'm the one doing what I have to," the voice said. "I've been away much too long. And I hate to see what this city has become without me."

Gritting her teeth, Cassandra ran into the alley, searching for some owner to the ominously familiar voice. "Come out!" She yelled. "Face me!"

"No. I don't want to fight you. I know you. I know you're one of the good ones… Cassandra." She froze in place in place for a second before searching harder than ever before catching a fleeting glimpse of some figure dressed in a cape just escaping her view. She remained for a moment, struggling to comprehend the situation before she heard a weak "Uuugh," from the opposite direction. Remembering what had just transpired she ran over to the man who was holding the knife, shaking and barely able to breath, but still clinging to life.

"Hold on," Cassandra said as she ran to his side, tipping his head upward so the blood wouldn't choke him. "I will call for help."

As she held her would-be attacker and made the call for an ambulance, she just kept shaking her head, silently insisting, It isn't him. It can't be him… I know it can't be him…