Summary: Taking you into the mind of Batgirl, one step at a time.

Disclaimer: No, Marcelo don't own Batgirl. Or Batman. Or Robin. Or Gotham. So go away.

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Email Marcelo. He's actually a robot powered by constructive criticism.

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Without Words
by Marcelo

The storm raged over Gotham City, keeping reasonable people in their homes, thugs in their hideholes, and Cassandra Cain snuggled under a gargoyle. Under Batman's direct order to wait off the storm, she whiles away the time remembering her past. She has no words, only the patterns and wisdom of violence --- but those had been quite enough, so far, to describe her world.

She thinks back to her father, her teacher, her forger. A life of lessons and violence. *Kata*. And *pain*.

She remembers the sight of blood in her hands, a life being taken. *The feeling of something break inside yourself.*

She thinks of the loneliness afterwards, of the bleak night. Of Batman, saving her and giving her a life. *Parry*. *Punch*.

Taking the mantle. Being Batgirl. *The pumping of the heart when you fight and win*.

Meeting Robin...

Cassandra shifted her weight, annoyed. She didn't know what to think of him. *An opponent eluding her*.

The radio in her cowl beeped, thrice. She was supposed to call it a night and go back to the Clocktower. It wasn't a bad idea. *An opening in your enemy's defense*.

A warm place. Dry clothes. Safety. *Robin*

And so did Cassandra learn her first word.

.finit.

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