Adventures of Cassandra Cain, Ch. 9

When last I left off, Cain and Grayson were on their way to the Lighthouse Bunker. Cassie's home had been torched by someone who tried to put a bullet in her after sending her a message on a big stone through the window saying 'Your blood for Wayne's conscience' and so an emergency meeting is about to be declared. Things are suddenly getting rocky for the heroes. Tonight's chapter will gear up to things breaking loose and is somewhat lengthy, it also develops a relationship and more clues to the identity of the main villain of this arc. No, it isn't Firefly >.>

Lighthouse Bunker that evening

"WHAT?!" Hollers Barbara when she hears the news about Cassandra's home.

The whole crew had met in possibly record time. Apparently Cassandra wasn't the only one to have an incident that night, someone had also 'visitted' Tim. No word had been received from Damian, Bruce's actual son, but that wasn't really a surprise. Noone kept things close to the chest like he did.

Tim had apparently gone to his home to find it already burning, he hadn't gone straight home the way Cassandra did so apparently whoever it was didn't bother waiting, or had simply chosen an actual target for the night. Whatever the case, the message had been sent. Someone was stalking Bruce's heirs.

Nightwing's gaze is to the floor as he says,"No more solo acts, in costume or not, until this is resolved. We're all paired up."

Barbara nods at Cassandra,"I'll talk to dad, see if he doesn't mind the two of us staying with him for the time being. I can't imagine him objecting." This warrants an immediate nod from the presently maskless Nightwing.

"What should I do?" Asks Kate in full Batwoman regalia.

"I doubt you're a target, but just to be safe either Tim or myself will look for you on our nightly routes," replies the blue and black crime fighter.

Cassandra offers one of her rare suggestions, usually fairly quiet in these meetings,"I'll...ask Catwoman anything heard."

Dick and Barbara eye each other, understanding her meaning that she would ask Catwoman if she'd heard anything. Barbara nods her approval to Cass as Dick replies as the head of this meeting,"Good thinking, this person did just scrape their boots all over her front doorstep burning your home down. She's gonna be on a tear for information."

Cassandra looks mystified, but doesn't say anything as she's satisfied that her suggestion had apparently met with approval.

"Now as for Petrov, we can't be distracted anymore on his front since someone is bringing the fight to us. Tomorrow, we shut him down. It'll be riskier than I'd like this far ahead of schedule, and we'll be cleaning it for a while to come, but we need to focus on this emergency and that means removing him to clear out the distraction. Any objections?"

They all shake their heads, his argument was solid to their thinking. Or it could just be that the threat has them too preoccupied to discuss it at the moment. Whatever the case, they agreed that tomorrow Petrov was going down.

They were loathe to drag out the emergency discussions, sleeping arrangements and daytime security were far more important. Immediately after the discussion about Petrov, they were out and on their way. Barbara and Cassandra were on their way together to visit James, he wouldn't be happy about it but he would be agreeable. Babs was keenly aware of how he had looked at her, a mixture of pity and fear that he wore on his shoulder around her.

The Gordon Residence

"Why didn't anyone tell...alright baby. You know I don't mind her staying here, she's your friend and that makes her mine. Does she have clothes?" James was right on point as soon as they arrived, his surprised had quickly given way to something resembling panic when Barbara laid it on him, sparing no details about the attempt on Cassie's life. This could quickly factor into the investigation on Bruce in a positive way, the connection had been obvious.

A part of her was a little uneasy about this, Barbara knew she was exploiting Cassandra's situation to help Bruce. She had even done it without consulting her first, but she knew she would understand. She wasn't one to protest, if she had a problem with it but she knew Cassandra thought highly enough of him that she likely approved as she stood there playing doormouse.

Cassandra did speak up quietly, looking at the floor as she said in a meek manner,"I...left my music box." She held up her lightly stuffed backpack. Her Black Bat outfit was left in the bunker for the time being, James didn't need to know about her crime fighting gig any more than he did his daughter's. It was better and easier that way in Barbara's mind.

Babs puts a palm to her forehead, brushing a stray hair as she chuckles to her dad,"Probably in the fire." Cass nods at that.

James smiles sadly at that, relieved at the significance of the backpack in her grasp. She didn't have to completely start over. After a moment he asks, his mind whirling at this situation,"Do you want her take your old room?" This situation was one of his worst private nightmares. He'd investigated enough of the assorted troubles involving enemies of the Wayne family that he knew the trouble that could come to call. Barbara getting shot was still yesterday in his mind, and it'd been a few years since Joker made that house call. This time, it had nearly been one of her friends and he was thanking his angels just like then that it wasn't worse.

Barbara felt she knew what was going through his head as she nods her agreement with his solution. James reaches to them and pulls them into a fatherly embrace now that the important part was out of the way. Everyone is ok, her friend and Bruce's adopted daughter was safe and knew she'd have a roof over her head. A tear runs down his cheek and he chokes it back, wiping it away after their moment is over.

"I'm glad you came here straight away, you know I'm always here for you and your friends,"he reassures them."I'm gonna have to bring her to the station for a statement, but I can handle keeping an eye out. They'll want to put a detail on my house, but you should barely notice it. They keep an eye on me anyway." He smiles at that, exhaling as the emotional moment finally passes. He'll never get used to these emergencies.

That night, Cassandra stayed with James. Barbara was more worried how they would handle staying together but she knew he'd handle it fine. He'd barely notice her, she felt. That wasn't to be quite the case.

The next morning, James got up sharply at four thirty. He always starts his mornings early with a pot of coffee, and there he finds her in his kitchen sitting quietly at his kitchen table watching him with her dark eyed gaze. He'd halfway expected this, knowing something of her orphan background and loner nature. He was never quite sure what Barbara saw in her that compelled her to keep Cassie around, whether it was sympathy or compassion or something altogether different.

"Good morning," he offers. Cassandra nods a reply, then looks out the window. It was drizzling at that moment, she was just watching the drops outside the window. James goes through his ritual of coffee preparation. For career law enforcement men, this is a luxury since there are many mornings that begin in offices or visiting crime scenes rather than at home. He'd done enough of those that home brew is appreciated, whether better or worse than whatever gas station is providing.

He's grateful for her silence. He loves his daughter to death, but he's keenly aware of what sort of chatterbox her and the company she seemed to favor could be. It occurred to him to try and get to know her a little better, but that could happen on the way to the station. His compassion had compelled him to wait on the station trip until this morning, his sensibilities telling him that she had endured a lot and likely would resent being grilled so soon after such trauma.

Cassandra sits there clad in a black sports bra under a gray muscle shirt, her legs covered by matching grey sweats and her feet with simple sandals. Looking at her, he found it difficult to imagine that she was one of Bruce's. Adopted into a wealthy family but content to just be comfortable, appearances be damned. Her face was pretty enough, but her arms could have belonged to an ironworker as solid as they are not to mention the callouses on her hands. She clearly doesn't slow down getting use out of her gym.

"Well. You know we need to head to the station this morning, I'm sorry to have to put you through this but whatever you share will help us deal with the culprit," Jim offers this quietly as his coffee finishes stewing, the bubbling sound plateauing in volume as the small pot nears completion. Cassandra just looks at him, and he doubts he'd ever get used to the emotionlessness she usually displays.

Gordon sighs, pouring a cup for himself. He considers in silence as his cup is filled, then asks,"I don't suppose you would like one? You probably don't drink coffee." He exhales through his nose, then not a moment later his expression lightens with surprise.

"I'll try," Cassandra says quietly. Then a moment later inquires,"What is...culprit?"

Gordon readily replies with an explanation as he pours a second cup, small since she's new and he likes his black,"A shorter word for perpetrator, someone who does something wrong on purpose." He measures his words, not sure that that's the Webster's definition but it felt right to him. He brings her the smaller cup, advising,"It's hot, might blow on it before you sip it. It's strong too."

Cassandra takes a sip, a little life coming across her features as the flavor hits her tongue. She was careful as she sipped it, familiar with hot drinks and how you sip them rather than turn them back like water or soda. She didn't know what to compare the bold flavor to, Barbara and Dick had only ever introduced her to sweeter drinks like lattes and what he called 'cap-uh-cheeno'. Cappuccino had sent her into a frenzy, the caffeine and sugar shooting through her like a jolt and suddenly the whole world had become a whirl of excitement. They had to take her home when she seemed on the verge of a panic attack that day, and she would never ask for a second.

"It's...different," She said. He gestures to her with his cup then and said,"Bring it along, you can enjoy it on the way." He grabs his coat then, his trench having become a trademark of his over the years. On the stand next to his coatrack is his .38 and badge, with this in tow his uniform is complete and Commissioner Gordon is ready to face the day. This time with a passenger.

Dick Grayson doesn't believe for a second that the person he's off to meet had a thing to do with anything, but he has to cover all possibilities. There aren't many people who know where the Wayne family members live, and fewer with personal grudges that they'd be willing to settle in blood that do. Among those few, the one who might that he can find is the man who wears a strange red pilot light helmet and wields a pair of .45s. This man is Jason Todd, he used to be Robin but these days he calls himself the Red Hood.

Dick, like Barbara, remembers painfully when Joker killed him. Neither of the two was real clear on the details of how he came back, something involving one of Ra's al ghul's Lazarus pits. All they knew was what had come back was not the Jason they knew. He'd always been brash, but the fire that burned in him now crossed every line that they valued. Every principle that they held dear in their war on crime he rejected, and with his skills as a former bearer of the mantle of Robin this made him lethal. Nightwing stood atop the Gotham Cathedral with Tim Drake, the current Robin. They were there to meet Red Hood, the man they refused to acknowledge as Jason Todd. They wanted to hear it from him, that he wasn't responsible for what had been committed thus far against the Wayne family.

The Red Hood did not disappoint. He doesn't talk to any of them, but he has always left channels open. While there was a rift between he and his old family, he had never in truth truly rejected them. He lived by his own code, and it wasn't theirs. That was all. In his eyes, he was doing what they didn't have the conviction to do. What happened to him wouldn't have happened if Batman had done what needed to be done to Joker all those times that he had the chance. He steps onto the roof of a building next to the Cathedral, shooting his grapple to the rooftop of Nightwing and Robin to snap over and meet with his two cordial rivals in crime fighting.

"I got your message," says the Red Hood. The crimson dome that is his trademark is ominous in the way it muffles his voice, giving it a metallic quality while also making it impossible to know where he's looking or what he's thinking.

"Do you know anything about it?" Starts Nightwing, his expression is stoney as is his tone.

"About what? Bruce getting arrested? Yes. No, I had nothing to do with it. You should know by now that's not my style," replies the crimson domed vigilante.

"And Cassandra and me?" starts in Robin.

"What about you? Get in a scrap with her? I always figured she was more than you could handle. Don't go dropping your relationship issues on me." Even the muffling quality of his helmet couldn't hide the smugness in his voice.

"No you sonovva..."starts Robin before Nightwing reins him in with a hand on his shoulder.

"Someone took a shot at Cassandra, and their homes have been torched. Whoever did it sent a message,'Your blood for Wayne's conscience'," explains Nightwing. He didn't respect or approve of Jason's path, but he respected him enough to trust him not to lie in this matter.

"Sounds like it may be your turn next." responds the Hood evenly.

"They could come for you too." retorts Nightwing, to which the Hood folds his arms in acknowledgment of the possibility. For better or worse, he would always be a son of Bruce. A wayward one, but nonetheless and he knew it.

"I'll look into it. If I find anything, I'll let you know." the Hood says after allowing a moment of silence to settle between them.

"You know the rule. No killing. Not even over this. He wouldn't stand for it." Nightwing's tone carries an air of finality that earns a snort from the other man.

"He can't stand for much behind high walls and armed guards. I'll play along until his name is cleared. No promises for what happens next to the responsible party," says the Hood, Robin's teeth are gritted but he relaxes somewhat when he hears that. He finds he can't hate that reply, and neither does Nightwing.

"No. Killing," repeats Nightwing, not arguing with him on this.

"Whatever." replies the other, turning with his grappler to wing away without further ceremony. Nightwing just lets him go, Robin standing beside him with his arms crossed visibly relieved that this meeting didn't come to blows. And that one suspect can be put aside.

Gotham Metro Police Department

Commissioner Gordon personally assisted Cassandra in navigating the statement process. The two got a lot of funny looks when they had to bring in a legal counselor to assist her in signing papers because she couldn't read most of it or write anything more complicated than her name. What should have taken thirty minutes ended up taking more than two hours, and eventually James was forced by his duties to leave Cassandra in the care of one Jeffrey Novak, one of their on staff legal counselors. James recommend him, so she trusted him for the time being.

Jeffrey didn't have a very good time getting this sorted, shortly after the statement process he felt compelled to go ahead and have her tested for competency. She couldn't read on any determined level, she seemed barely able to speak, and her emotional capacity seemed stunted at best. Coupled with her very impressive build, he seriously wondered about her so he set about pulling her records and making the arrangements for the necessary tests just in case anything comes of her statement.

James wouldn't hear of this development any time soon, he was involved in coordinating the investigation of the fires. He couldn't ignore the obvious connection between the fires, one night two adopted children of Bruce Wayne have their homes burned. One of them claimed to have been shot at and was now in his care for the time being. He'd get to the bottom of this.

By that afternoon, he'd have the verification of her story that he needed. The bullet holes in her floor told the tale, especially once they collected the mangled .22 bullets and determined that the fire originated right where she said it had.

While that had gone on, the legal counselor was stumped trying to determine Cassandra's reliability for court. She was of legal age, legally anyhow. Legally she was eighteen, but factually they had no record of her birth or where she'd grown up or who her parents even were. She'd been a ward of the state collected off the streets by police officers, and then police officers had to be brought in to subdue her because of the degree of violence she'd demonstrated over a simple vaccination. Nothing about her suggested reliability for anything, least of all a court witness.

Educationally, she seemed to be at a preschool level but that was still being determined as her testing was still underway. He couldn't believe she was a martial arts instructor. Sure, she was probably in the best shape of anybody he'd ever met just by looking at her, but how she could teach with such a limited vocabulary as she seemed to have was beyond him.

Looking at her records, he saw that Oliver Queen was the owner and general manager of the gym she and Barbara Gordon ran. He'd also arranged for her hands being registered as lethal weapons among other important documentation. Jeffrey made a phone call, that afternoon he spoke to Mr. Queen's secretary and was on his schedule for a meeting the next day. Cassandra Cain had become as much a mystery as the man currently incarcerated who was her adoptive father.

That evening, James finally got free from his work. Kicking himself for having forgotten his charge in the midst of everything that had gone on, even if it had only been for a couple hours, he made his way to the room that Cassie was being kept in. Jeffrey intercepted him, his expression colored with concern.

"Commissioner, I've some things I need you to see. About your friend here..." Jeffrey begins, pulling some freshly printed papers from a folio in his arm.

"Go ahead, what's your concern counselor?" Gordon replies as he stops to speak with him.

"Well, apparently Miss Cain is what we call developmentally impaired to begin. Don't take this the wrong way, I went ahead and had some tests run in light of her difficulty delivering her statement." He starts off relatively calm, but as Gordon begins to look at him down the bridge of his nose with an expression of disappointment, the counselor hurries his clip,"Literally, she's functioning with maybe a preschool level of education, she displays a severely stunted level of emotional development, her body shows extensive signs of abuse..."

"You had her physically examined when I brought her in here to deliver a statement?" Gordon interrupts at this point, his frustration with the man beginning to verge on outrage.

"Please, Commissioner, I know what you're thinking but just hear me out..." Jeffrey starts to protest, but then Gordon's vein begins to show in his temple as he cuts him off again.

"I don't think you do, Mr. Counselor, that girl has been through god knows what in her life and is trying to make a name for herself. My daughter went into business with her because she has a gift that I couldn't care less how she came by," his voice becomes icey at this point as he begins to back the lawyer against the wall, his finger in his face as he gives him the third degree,"I know exactly what her file says and what she did in the orphanage, and I also know those files are inadmissible and set to be expunged. If you've got in your mind to drag that girl in there through some self gratifying circus when she came in here to give a statement at MY request, so help me I'll make sure you never work in Gotham again."

Jeffrey stands there with his back to the wall, his mouth agape as he silently stares at the furious Commissioner, eventually managing to squeak out,"I'm sorry Commissioner..."

Gordon replies to that bluntly,"Damn right you are." Then turns from him to the door behind which one Cassandra is sitting with saintly patience. She rises at the sight of him, and he waves her over saying,"Come on, we're going home. I'm sorry for taking so long."

He does his best to not even look at the legal counselor as he departs with the stoney faced girl. It had been a while since he'd been that angry with someone at work. Frustration was normal for him, but that had touched a raw nerve.

@jamiewolfe7: Hmm you slipped back into the clunky dialogue again,besides that it was a good story, although the Red Hood, a character I dislike thourghlly, was included.

I've no plans to do much with him, no worries.