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Ill.
Her body felt ill.
She didn’t have a fever, or any disease. Alfred had made sure of that. But she felt ill.
It was stifling. Suffocating.
But it was monsoon in Gotham.
Her face stared back at her in the mirror.
The figure in the mirror moved as she did. Smiled when she did. Frowned when she did.
But it didn’t feel like her.
It felt ill.
She felt ill.
“Cass?” Steph stood at the door.
Cass smiled. She liked Steph. Steph was nice. She was helpful. And she smiled a lot.
But Steph was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” Steph asked instead, inviting herself in her room. Cass didn’t mind it. She liked Steph. But it was a question Cass was supposed to ask her.
Oh no.
Did she figure out she was ill?
Cass shook her head. It would worry Steph.
Steph raised her eyebrows, still frowning. Her body was open, inviting. But anxious. Concerned. Worried. Oh no. “Are you sure? You’ve been standing in front of that mirror for a long ass time.” Steph noted. “And you’re late. To patrol. B was throwing a fit so he asked me to check up on ya- but we can ignore him.”
Oh no. Cass checked the clock. Strange. It was 8:34 when she was getting ready for patrol. It’s 9:12 now. “Sorry.” Cass followed her down to the Bat Cave to gear up. Steph kept sending her worried glances, but she decided to not mention it. Cass had learnt to not mention a lot of things. People didn’t like how observant she was.
Cass herself didn’t like how observant she was.
She observed how people looked at her. No- not her family. Her family was nice. But-
She knew the way the tabloids wrote about her. They praised her for her ballet recitals. They praised her for her martial arts. But then there was this undercurrent of…uneasiness. The reporters seemed to malfunction when ballet and martial arts were brought up together. As if the girl who wore flowery yellow sundresses to the Gala in Gotham’s gloomy weather couldn’t have muscles and kick ass.
She knew the way henchmen looked at her when she descended from the darkness of the alleys. In her earlier days as Batgirl, they had underestimated her. Laughed on about she was Batgirl for a reason. Then she became Black Bat. A carbon copy of Batman. But a girl.
Of course, she proved them wrong. But it frustrates her that they wouldn’t respect her without an intimidation tactic. Cass didn’t want to be intimidating. She tried her best not to.
The suit felt particularly tight on her body.
Was she bloating today? But that couldn’t be- Alfred avoided any heavy dinners before one’s patrol.
Cass frowned, picking at the latex.
But focused on patrol. Patrol always grounded her. It made her feel good. She helped others. It made her smile.
Maybe she should change her suit again. The suit felt tight. It felt revealing. Though- not an inch of her skin was revealed.
So strange.
Cass decided to hide in her cape. She would like that. If it didn’t intimidate the civilians. She thought of Batman, who she related to the most. Her father. She liked her father. He didn’t have such issues. He was very comfortable with who he was. He had no problem with looking intimidating.
She had followed what she thought would make her well. She copied Batman’s suit. She copied his fighting style. She copied the way he uses his cape to appear more daunting.
Why did she feel ill, then?
Maybe she should cut her hair. Or train to have broader shoulders.
Everything to feel at ease with this…body.
A normal person felt at ease with their body. Cass wasn’t normal. Neither was Dad, now that she thought about it. Maybe she should stop referring to him.
What was a normal person? What did they look like?
“Black Bat.” She was snapped out of her thoughts- faced with Robin’s stern scowl. “Pay attention- Oracle just said there was a drug deal happening southside. Didn’t you listen?”
Oh.
She was zoning Oracle out for the past 15 minutes.
“Sorry.” She mumbled as she grappled behind Robin- following him to the site instructed.
The deal was busted in seconds. Cass hung behind as Robin tied them up. She picked at the latex of her suit. It felt tight. It felt ill.
“Could you stop zoning out already?” Robin snapped as he straightened up.
Cass just nodded,. Once he was sure the ties were secure, they went back to the rooftops.
This was very confusing. She was okay physically– and perhaps mentally. But she still felt ill. Her body fell ill. Rather- her body didn’t feel like hers in any way.
Robin came to an abrupt stop infront of her. It had her narrowly swinging out of the way to avoid grappling straight into him. He turned to her when she landed, crossing his arms. “Stop. Something is clearly wrong.”
Cass blinked back. And looked around for a threat.
“No- no- wrong with you.” He jabbed an accusing finger in her chest. Cass moved away. She didn’t want any touch right now. And frowned back at him, though he couldn’t see so with her full face mask. At her questioning look, he continued, back to crossing his arms.
“You’re so distracted tonight! I don’t want to hear a sorry again- I want to know why.” The kid huffed, glaring up at her.
Cass deflated. She’d rather accept it at this point.
“I am ill.” She admitted.
Damian seemed agitated. “Ill?- Why didn’t you say so? Have you told Agent A? Father? Anyone?”
Cass shook her head. “Not that. Body is ill.”
Damian stared, confused. But he was learning to be patient with her. Something she was very grateful for.
"My body feels off." She frowned.
“Why?” He asked.
She picked at the latex of her suit, letting it snap back in place.
Damian’s eyes followed curiously. “Is it tight?”
Cass nodded.
“I’ll ask Agent A to make changes.” Damian mumbled to himself, clearly planning how to make the fabric more comfortable while also making it streamlined. If it felt uncomfortable for her- maybe she could layer her suit like he does.
But Cass frowned. “I want to feel normal.” She blurted out. “This body doesn’t feel like mine.”
Damian blanked out, clearly caught off guard at the statement.
“O- Oh.” What in the world? Is she trying to be Todd.2?
But his sister hadn’t experienced any changes in her appearance.
Or maybe she had.
She looked healthier- being fed a lot more than her damned undeserving biological 'father' used to feed her. But Cassandra didn’t like it, supposedly.
He eyed her as they retired from patrol. Others wouldn’t have liked it. Cassandra didn’t mind. They shared the same habits- which was staring blatantly at people while they zoned out or thought about something.
Cassandra hadn’t put on weight… nor thinned out. So it wasn’t a weight issue like Brown used to complain about. Then….
“Do you want to look different from what you do right now?” Damian asked her quietly- mid-patrol debrief. Cass paid attention to Batman in these debriefs, but the accuracy of the question caught her attention.
Well…She was thinking about it. Cataloging every family member to decide who looked the most normal.
Bruce? Jason? Too intimidating.
Steph? While she did appreciate her looks, she was very different from her.
Her eyes dragged on.
“Tim.” She decided. “Tim’s pretty.”
Damian gave her a look of pure disgust. “Drake?”
“What?” Tim was at ease with his body. He was pretty- but also strong. Cass also wanted to look pretty and strong.
“Are you serious? That creature looks like he climbed out of a landfill.”
Cass frowned. Damian sighed, though quite conflicted and repulsed.
“Tt. Fine. What is it that you like about his... appearance?”
“Pretty. Strong. Handsome. Both.”
“Right.” Damian clearly did not agree with her sentiments. He scoffed at her description, repulsed, but continued. “I feel like Drake is a lot worse than you- appearance-wise and generally- but please do tell what it is in him that you feel you lack.”
“I don’t know…Pretty. Handsome. Both.”
“Do you want to look more... masculine?” Damian offered, sounding a bit uncertain himself. Appearance was not his area of expertise. But he wanted to help. Cassandra was a capable fighter and he didn’t want her ill. And distracted. Especially on patrol.
Masculine?
Cass blinked.
Then turned to Bruce. Masculine.
No…not that masculine.
She turned to Tim.
Masculine. But he was also pretty. Feminine.
“Both.” She answered Damian.
Damian hummed as a reply, leaning back in his seat.
He didn’t say much on the topic afterwards. But he clearly thought about it. His body screamed about his pensive nature. But Cass decided not to bring it up.
The topic, however, wasn’t brought up for the next couple of days.
“Cassandra.” She was addressed in the afternoon, after her return from ballet classes.
“Dami.” She gave him a soft smile, and watched the kid’s tense nature slightly relax. Smiles helped a lot of people relax. They were contagious. She liked doing that.
“Don’t call me that.” He chided, joining her on the sofa. “I’ve studied the issue.” He declared, pulling out his tablet.
Cass blinked, peering into the tablet. Studied?
“I’ve been looking into what seemed to bother you.” He continued, pulling up Pinterest on the screen. Cass held back a chuckle. Seems like Damian was finally getting into some social media- even if it was mainly for his art. Steph would be happy. There were some pin boards here and there labelled sketches and animals, but Cass decided not to comment on them. It’d make Damian close off, she knew. He valued his privacy.
He showed her a pinboard of models. Normal photoshoots- probably portfolios.
And then started pointing out. “Look- appearance-wise, there are three types. Masculine, feminine, and androgynous.”
"Andri- what?"
Damian smirked at her mispronunciation. “Long word, I suppose? Don’t worry- the point is- I take that you want to look androgynous. Because Drake looks androgynous, too.”
Cass blinked at that. She felt ill only because she wanted to look andro…
“You probably feel ill because you’re suffering from body dysphoria.” He offered as an answer before she could even ask. “It’s when you feel dissociated and disatisfied from your body- and it often contributes to identity crises.”
“Oh.”
“And now- how do you fix that?” Damian held up a finger like he was holding an Oxford grade lecture. Cass listened like he was.
Pause.
“I actually haven’t found a solution yet.” He admitted quietly. “But I’m trying.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve figured out what the issue is. Next step is the solution. I’ll be back at you with one soon en-”
Cass smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Damian scoffed, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. “We haven’t found a solution yet.” He repeated, as if reminding her.
“It’s okay. I’m happy. You’re helping me.” Cass rested her head on his shoulder, though she did have to bend at an extreme angle. She was sure he wouldn’t take too kindly to a hug. “Thanks.”
Damian tensed. Nodded stiffly. But didn’t move away- going back on ‘studying’ the issue for a solution. “We could ask Alfred to shorten your hair, too. I’ll show you some boyish haircuts- see if you like them.” He continued, scrolling on Pinterest beside her.
He treated everything with such intensity and passion. He gave it his all. Just for her. Cass almost felt giddy at the thought. She wanted to be as passionate as him. As her little brother.
“You’re so sweet.”
“Tt. I’m not. I’m simply solving an issue.”
“For me.”
“So you don’t end up distracted.”
“Mhm.”
“Cassandra.”
She glanced back. Damian peeked out of his room, as she stood in the hallway. He narrowed his eyes on her. His body read tense. Nervous.
“Dami.” She greeted. “Foyer. Come.”
“No.” His eyes squinted more.
Cass shuffled under his stare. And tilted her head questioningly.
He signalled her closer.
“Suspicious.” She noted out loud, as she was invited into his room. Invited. Into Damian’s room. This was some great achievement.
She took her time to register the room. Pastel yellow walls. A big dark green bed shoved to one corner. The desk was littered with assignments and books she grimaced at. A manga collection above it, alongside a pinboard. A large window on the front facing wall. A katana collection mounted on the side wall, alongside his sketches and paintings. Alfred the cat lounged on a cat bed near the foot of his bed.
She didn’t get to look more closely at the art and the cupboard- for Damian shoved a packet into her hands.
He frowned. He didn’t have any nervous antics- The League had trained them out of him- but he did look visibly nervous. “This is unfamiliar for me- but I brought you something.”
Cass eyed the packet, and opened it almost immediately. A tank top? It was of a bland peach colour.
He flushed at her visible confusion, playing with his hands. “It’s a binder. It flattens the chest. Safely. I thought it might help you deal with looking more androgynous. So…”
Cass blinked at the unfamiliar clothing, turning it over. The fabric was okay- not irritable. Soft.
“I’ll try it out.” She perked up immediately.
Damian sat at his bed with Alfred the cat as Cass used his bathroom to change.
And then she came out- staring at the mirror.
Her face stared back at her in the mirror.
The figure in the mirror moved as she did. Smiled when she did. Frowned when she did.
And it felt like her.
Cass grinned widely as she watched herself. Ran her hands down her flattened torso. Flexed her muscles in the reflections.
“Now you’re just showing off.” Damian huffed.
Cass laughed in genuine wonder. “Wow.”
He smiled. “I take it that you like it? Try it out for a few days. Tell me if you want more- I’ll get them.” But then his tone turned chiding. “Don’t wear it for more than 8 to 10 hours a day. And no sleeping or heavy training with it on. I tried looking for a versatile fabric- but you still need to be careful with it. Or it can cause back pain, skin irritation, or worse- rib issues.”
Cass nodded with his instructions, still twirling in the mirror. She turned to Damian, grin widening. “Can I hug you?”
Damian tensed. But then sighed in annoyance. “Okay.”
Cass almost squealed as she hugged him, jumping up and down. Alfred the cat meowed in protest and jumped down to retire back in his bed. Damian groaned at the tight squeeze, straining his ears away from her loud yipees.
“Hey- Dames?"
Tim appeared at the door, pure confusion radiating from him as he checked Alfred's message on the phone.
"You ordered.... binders? Alfred’s checking the bill and he asked-” Tim paused.
He squinted at Cass.
“Why the fuck do you look like me?”