8486/What We Lose

What We Lose
Date of Scene:	24 July 2019
Location:	Stately Wayne Manor, Gotham
Synopsis:	Cass and Bruce explore a teachable moment.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Batgirl (Cain)

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Batman has posed:
The Manor is quiet. Even at the best of of times, many of it's rooms are dark and the furniture covered over with dust covers. In the gloomy hours before the sun peeks over the horizon, it is almost like a tomb. The moonlight strains through one of the large windows, casting a gridwork of shadow through across the Library. The only source of light.

Bruce sits on the desk, half-slumped over as obvious exhaustion creeps through him like slow-acting poison. His eyes are heavily ringed and his jaw is rough with stubble. He wears his uniform, though the cowl has been pulled away to leave him unmasked and the hangs with the cape over the back of an overstuffed leather chair. He says nothing, looking at the portrait in oils on the wall that was himself and his parents in happier times, if not happy ones. Bruce Wayne may never have been a happy child, regardless of how he chooses to remember his life Before.

At once he clears his throat, requesting the girl's attention before he holds a palm flat and brushes it with two fingers. 'Forgive.'

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
Cassandra Cain sits in a chair near where Bruce is leaning heavily against the desk looking in much the same fashion as him, but with obvious signs of LONG night of fighting. She's not wearing her armor, down to sports bra so that Alfred, dutiful Alfred, can tend to the many wounds that were hidden beneath the dark uniform that is Orphan. Her entire left flank is a dark brown with light yellow lines circling several of her ribs and there's at least one laceration that's needed stitching up.

One whole side of her face is dark as if she took a hammer to the side of her head and her bottom lip is split.. nevermind her knuckles. Even with her gauntlets they took a beating and looks like she gave just as, if not better, than she got. She never flinches under the application of alcohol to clean her wounds, just stares straight ahead like a robot. The whole while her eyes tick back and forth as if she's reading a page in reverse, expression practically screaming a brain riddled with guilt.

When Bruce clears his throat, she looks in his direction and watches the motion of his hands through one swollen eye, the other a little darker, but not nearly as bad. "She die." It's only words in that they vaguely resemble them. Tapping two fingers against her chest, left hand out palm upwards, she brings it back towards her open right hand. Both fists point out towards Bruce, motioning downward.

I could not stop

Batman has posed:
Bruce points a finger at Cassandra before dropping the side of his open palm into the flat of his hand. 'You stop.' His hands continue to move, both palms up and down like a balance then clenching into fists to cross over one another. 'Maybe fight back.' He points a finger at her again, tapping his hands together with index fingers extended and then splaying his fingers before pinching at the tops of them. 'You make right choice.'

He sighs, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as if to will away the fog of sleep that is already creeping into the recesses of his brain. He speaks his words as he signs them, now, hands still motioning before him.

"You felt it when she died. That's good. That's what makes you different. Makes you better. You need to hold onto that, but you also need to channel it."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
Cass watches, she's always watching, reading the intricacies of a thing while Bruce's hands move to communicate his thoughts to her. Her hand comes up, disturbing something that Alfred was doing on her shoulder, and quickly gets pushed back down.. She blows out a short breath through her nostrils and nods agreement to Bruce's assessment.

Whatever exhaustion she feels, she's buried. It's clear on her face, certainly, but she wont let it affect her more than that. She could, would, and wants to keep fighting. Forgiveness isn't as easy for her. Both hands come up a little, fingers curling and pulling a bit towards her bruised abdomen. 'Want to' brushing two fingers in her palm, 'forgive'. Her index finger extends on her right hand so her thumb nail clips against several times, 'cannot'.

Tapping at her chest again, shoulders shrugging. "Shooon.. maibeh..." She's not as distraught, but what she saw, what she FELT, watching that woman die.. watching her take her last breath knowing that it WAS her last breath.. watching realization that all the promises she'd promised herself were never going to come to pass?

That burns deep.

And it scars worse than any beating will.

Batman has posed:
Batman's two hands clench into fists again, both jerking downwards before his hand repeats the motion of brushing a palm with two fingers. 'Can forgive.' He gestures out the window for a moment before his hands continue their motioning, a thumb brushing the underside of his unshaven chin and then his index finger pointing away. 'Not them.' His finger then returns to her, stabbing the air for emphasis. 'You.'

"You need to forgive yourself. The deaths will haunt you. You already lose something of yourself when they happen. You can't let it take any more than that smallest piece."

He sighs. One hand brings both middle and ring finger together to turn in a half-circle, gathering into a fist and knocking at the air. Both hands gather up together, as though tearing some invisible object, and one turns to point at the young woman. His head shakes. 'Feel yes. Destroy yourself? No.'

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
Cass takes a sharp breath and glances down at the hand patting on her bottom lip, then back over at Bruce without comment. A short hiss of pain and then she's back on task, watching her mentor work through the signs with ticking eyes, following the motions easily, and nodding in a circular fashion as if she already knows. She's never been particularly good at keeping her feelings off her face, it's one of the many drawbacks of having no real social education, without a mask she's as easy to read as it is easy for her to read others.

She hurts, obviously. She blames herself, without a doubt. Fingers touch to her brow and point outward in a short wave towards Bruce, 'I know' both hands become fists, right knocking upon the knuckles of her left. They immediately open, thumb and index fingers together on both hands forming an O which she twists in a back and forth motion. 'work on it'

She looks to Alfred when he steps away and then over to Bruce. The smallest hint of a grin playing on her split lips, touching her left fingers on her left shoulder as her hand right hand snaps down with two extended fingers.

'grounded?'

Batman has posed:
Bruce shakes his head, hands ceasing to sign for the moment and stretching out to rest behind him on the desk. He thinks it over, the look on his face a thoughtful one veined through with exhaustion and the obvious notion that he puts this woman's death on himself and not on Cassandra. He takes them all on his own shoulders in the end, and it shows in the way he holds himself now.

"No need," he explains, hands lifting to sign once more, "you punished yourself. No need to compound it. And you learned a valuable lesson, too. You know what we lose, and now you understand the stakes."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
Dark eyes watch Bruce, one of them nearly closed if not for the icepack she's being handed. A gentle motion brings her palm up so it lays against the swollen orbital tissue, but she's still the one eye focused on him. On his guilt bleeding out from a tired body... it's the only time she can really get a read on him. It's also a startling revelation, it's always a startling revelation, to see it when she does.

Rather than answer, at least with her hands, she stands from the seat and pats him on the shoulder in a robotic manner that betrays all the intent behind it. She's foreign to it, expressing herself and empathetically engaging with others on a level more substantial than combat training, so it comes as third or fourth nature... and probably wont ever be natural because of it.

Her free hand claws lightly at her chest in an expressive way, then comes up to run like a knife down across her nose until her fingers bunch at her chin.

'hungry' then 'sleep'

Batman has posed:
"You go," Bruce tells her, reaching up to pat the hand on his shoulder briefly before he rises to his feet. All the guilt and exhaustion ebbs away from him, although in truth it more like it disappears back beneath the surface to leave him stoic and nigh-unreadable once again. The moment has passed,

"There's a nutrient shake in the fridge for you," he explains, signing the words crisply and gesturing in the general direction of the kitchen, "Not tasty, but should keep you full. Doubt you have much of a stomach for anything else."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
Seeing Bruce like that was uncomfortable, but seeing it disappear feels like she squandered something. Everything is a teaching moment. Those words have been drilled into her brain since she was a toddler, forced to chose between sleep or food. Forced to chose between compassion or pain. There's always something to be learned...

Cassandra is too exhausted to try and put together what that is right now, but she knows that she wasted the moment necessary to find out. Her hand slides off her mentor's shoulder and hangs limp at her side with all the strength finally draining from her. "Oakah.." Jaw working out the words, throat still not complying. Even if she weren't beaten to hell she wouldn't have been able to get them out.

Her hand comes up to say something else, but falls to her side as she turns towards the kitchen to guzzle down the nutrient shake and find her bed.. if somewhere between here and there she doesn't reverse the order.