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It’s been a month since Red Hood reported the return of Red X and they’ve been looking everywhere. They busted a few thug hideouts, visited every previously active safe house, checked every sewer and basement, kept asking masked villains and still, there was nothing. Red X appeared out of nowhere and vanished into thin air without saying anything. Just like Damian did.
The thought striked Cassandra painfully into her heart. She couldn’t bear a thought of her little brother without feeling like crying. Damian wasn’t living with them for very long, only a couple of years, just recently rescued from the cruelty that is his mother and the League of Assassins. She was happy to see him slowly changing, healing from all the wrong teachings those nasty people put in his head. It only hurts more that she never got the opportunity. The little boy disappeared a year ago and no one was expecting it, even her.
Although she can say she’s been noticing some weird actions of Damian. Not that Damian was the most normal of all kids, but those… weren’t in his character at all.
She can confidently say that she isn’t the best sister in the world, and definitely not Damian’s favorite. So it wasn’t a surprise to her when they didn’t get along and her little brother didn’t try to get to know her better. It’s been like this since the very day he arrived, the boy was distant, afraid, maybe, not wanting to get close to anyone but his father. Though he respected her like no one else in the house and she was grateful for that. She thought their common experience with the League of Assassins could bring them together. They could reflect their pain together, share it and drown it within love with a newfound family. And it really did, at first. They understood each other better than anyone. Cassandra was trying her best to hold a conversation and Damian didn’t push. He wasn’t like the others, wasn’t soft or understanding, pitiful for her inability to speak. He didn’t see her lack of speech as a flaw, and never stopped treating her as an equal, if only not a superior. But motion and body was her first language, and she soon noticed that something was off. Around her, her brother went stiffer. He seemed more distressed and scared, and she knew, she swears to god she knew everyone thought she was intimidating, but she never thought of Damian like this. And so, she let him go. She didn’t try anymore. She assumed he would come to her when he was ready.
And he came. But not in the way she expected him to.
One day, after what seemed like an eternity of sitting on the cold floor in a spare room with closed eyes thinking about everything and nothing, she heard the old wood shift beneath someone. As she opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of her youngest brother sitting next to her, but also far away. Somewhere she could see him. Somewhere she could hear him. But out of her arm’s reach. And she was happy. Brother came to her! Allowed himself to be in the same room with her, like old times ago. His presence wasn’t tense or cautious, rather warm and confident. And she smiled.
But the boy didn’t say anything. He didn’t start ranting or complaining like he usually did. He just stared at her like she was the void, and she wasn’t sure if staring back was the right thing to do. But that’s what she did. Damian seemed distant, different and she tensed up as worries started creeping onto her mind.
And he noticed. He noticed how her posture changed, just a little. How her breath stiffened and became controlled. Noticed the smallest frown of confusion and concern on her face, her fingers becoming less gentle and ready to pull into a sharp fist. He noticed. He understood her first language as if he was fluent and then quickly looked away. Like nothing happened, like he didn’t just do that. Like he was deaf and blind again and had nothing to hide. And his face, it stayed emotionless. He pressed himself against a wall lightly, and Cass couldn’t help but think he would just disappear to nowhere if he tried hard enough.
But that was nonsense, right? He wouldn’t want that. He didn’t need to vanish. Why would he do that?
And it still hurt to realize. (He would).
He played a trick on her as if she was a child.
As if he wasn’t.
But she couldn’t think about him now, because now, she was on a mission. She wasn’t Cassandra Cain-Wayne, a pained, pitiful sister who missed her little brother. She was Black Bat. She was a professional. And it was her job to keep up with the reputation.
Not many saw a purpose in looking for the young thief now, as they had more important things to do. (“Why do we even care about him, anyway? It’s not like he’s been a mega bad guy,” Steph questioned as she opened her bottle of yogurt and drunk it, taking a break from the endless investigation. “We’ve got a lot of reasons to be concerned about him,” Tim argued, not even lifting his head from the tablet. He sighed. “But yeah, I’d say we have a lot of other criminal schemes to unwrap right now”.) But Cassandra knew what she’s been told isn’t completely true. She knows that Red X didn’t disappear into thin air as her father claims, although she isn’t sure if it’s a bad thing or a good thing. Because she saw. And she wasn’t supposed to. The security camera footage, one and only, which Bruce and Dick were so secretive about she didn’t even have the courage to eavesdrop, to peek at first.
Red X was perfect in covering his trails. No one knew where he was and even if someone did, he’d be long gone by the moment they arrived to investigate. And he’d leave no evidence behind. Like a professional. And Cassandra knew that there was a flaw. And she had to find it. (And she found it).
The security camera footage. It wasn’t too long, about five minutes long. At first, it featured a child, a lonely girl lost in a dark night alley of Gotham. She was quiet, but her body screamed with fear and panic. And then there were men. They had ski masks on their heads and no good intentions. And they cornered the child. And she cried, pleaded for help, but nobody came. Cassandra knew for sure there was no bat around to help by the patrol schedule, and she teared her eyes away with fear. She couldn’t witness another failure. Because it would be her fault.
And then there was thrown a punch. And then another one. And another, and a bunch more. And she would feel relieved if it wasn’t the person who came to the rescue. X-shaped throwing stars now were all over the alley and the little girl was shaking and crying in the corner. His shoulder were limp, exhaustion finding it’s way out in his body language, but also soft, kind. Hesitant. She saw it in him. He wanted to comfort the girl, cradle her little body against his not so much larger chest and promise her all the safety in the world. Instead, he turned to the camera and knocked it broken with a single punch. And then there was only sound. He ran away, leaving everything behind and never coming back.
Cass knows that she only had the chance to watch the tape one time. That she might easily have misjudged things. But if she’s being honest with herself, she doubts she’s ever wrong. And the tape meant only one thing. Red X knew that the camera was there and it was a large risk for him to show up, yet he couldn’t resist helping a girl in trouble. Just like Damian could never resist helping a child in trouble. And yet he ran, away from the girl, leaving her to the cruel Gotham streets and more maniacs to find her. (No, that’s not true. He must’ve followed her all the way home, hiding in the shadows, she doesn’t know why, but she’s certain).
And then, there was the vigilante himself. Red X. She knows it’s only been a short glance, yet what she’s seen keeps creeping out of the back of her mind. His body language, too. The way he punched violently and unforgiving, and his way of fighting was familiar. The way his shoulders went limp as the fight ended, as if he was sad again. As if he found himself after years of search for a moment, and then lost himself again. And the way he punched the camera. Hesitantly. As if he wanted to be seen.
And everything in her head connected as if pieces of a puzzle came together.
That’s why she volunteered for today’s search for the teen. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Would he agree to go home? Would she even find him? Red X was always a hard gem to find, even when there was no Damian Wayne in their family. He was always good with keeping up to traditions, though, so it wasn’t completely out of character. If anything, vanishing into thin air was completely out of character.
Sitting on a Gotham rooftop in anticipation as the cold wind blew right into her face and darkness absorbed every single bit of warmth and light was nothing new to her. In fact, it was what she was used to the most. Of course, the rush of a battle with bones cracking and her moves almost as graceful as a dance was what she was born in. But waiting was the more comforting, familiar, at times terrifying part. Fighting might make her heart skip a couple of beats, but waiting for someone to jump out of the dark corner was what truly made a chill run across her bones, leaving an itchy trail behind it. But this night, the dark silence was welcoming. Hopeful.
And then she saw him. It was a small sparkle of red in the corner of her eye, sitting somewhere in the dark. Close to her, but also far away. And she did her best to hide the fact that she noticed. She didn’t want to scare him away again. Not after a whole year of him hiding. She wasn’t sure if he was fluent, yet she remembered the silent stare from years ago. (He wondered if he could spectate The Spectator without being noticed.) She didn’t really mind the stare, though. It was rather soothing. A sign. Alive. Here. Caring.
And then, before she could acknowledge it, the shadow twisted. And he ran. Her feet started moving below herself on their own. She didn’t want to lose him again. Not this time. It was a losing game, she could catch him ten times now. But she didn’t want to catch him. She just wanted her brother back. It took her falling from the rooftops, chasing the shadow, ducking underneath the fence to finally gather her strength.
“Brother!”
She screamed. And he actually stoped. Stoped, and turned around. And god, he was confused. Why? He was cold. How? And he was so, so sad. His disbelief leaked through him, staining the roof around. And Cass just stood there and stared. Because it was now her turn. Now, he was The Spectator.
And then her feet finally moved. With a small step, she neared Red X standing in front of her. And he didn’t flinch. His confusion grew, but he didn’t… run. And then she stepped closer. And closer. And she kept on going, until he finally, finally was in the reach of her arms. Until she could wrap him in them. Until she could embrace him, and whisper gently into his ear. “Brother, come home”.
And he gave in. His tired head rested on her shoulder, limp arms refusing to move. And he started sniffing. His eyes watered, and he cried. And she was about to cry too. Her little, precious little brother was back again. She was so happy.
“Black Bat, what the hell is going on there?!” she heard a shout as Batman, Nightwing and Red Hood and god-knows-who-else approached her.
It wasn’t the harshness, the heartlessness of the loud voice that terrified her. It was the void, the emptiness in her arms. The sudden lack of warmth. The fading of hope, facing the merciless, cruel fate. When her little brother… disappeared right from her hands. The place where previously a hurt, little Damian Wayne was was empty now. Her brother was gone again. He pushed a small button on his suit and vanished into thin air.
There was a lot of screaming and arguing. And she tried to speak, but no one was willing to listen. And so she didn’t tell anyone.
And it was so, so, so cold without him anymore.