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Her stomach hurt. A muscle that she didn’t recognize contracted in her abdomen. That was weird. It had been a long time since she’d discovered a new part of her body, stranger still to realize that she’d never felt pain there before. Ever.
She straightened her back. Her form couldn’t give away any indication of pain. She had learned that as soon as she could stand. She knew something was amiss when she landed wrong on her left foot while performing a kata she knew as well as breathing. This whole experience was utterly bizarre.
She thought of every possible indicator over the past week that something may be wrong. She had been irritable enough Father had to beat her for insolence, something that he hadn’t done since she was ten. She had been tired, but she often was. She had also wanted Father around, which… was weird. She never wanted him around. She was safer alone. But she’d been craving every ounce of his affection to the extreme. Even him hitting her had been welcome. Strange.
Father was giving her an odd look. He had noticed. She wilted, looking to him for guidance. He came over, crouching to her eye level. His question was obvious. ‘Where is the problem?’ His concern and touch on her arm made her want to be closer to him. What was happening?!
She could see that Father was wondering the same. Her hand reluctantly floated down to her lower stomach.
His face clouded with thought. He grabbed both of her arms in his hands, rubbing them as he thought. She smiled, pleased with the affection. Why was she so needy recently?
“What is wrong with this girl?” He mumbled, his words a blur to the young teen. “She’s as needy as a bitch in heat… Wait. I’m an idiot.”
She shifted as a wave of warmth spread between her thighs. It almost felt like she had wet her pants. It had been so long since she had done that, though….
She must have grimaced because her father came to a realization. He pulled her to the bathroom, gesturing her to take her pants off. She knew better than to hesitate.
She dropped them, looking down. To say that her heart skipped a beat would be more literal than figurative. Her underwear was soaked with blood that was still coming out of her.
She hadn’t bled from there since she was seven and kicked too high during training one morning. Her father had seen the blood and glanced between her legs to make sure that she wasn’t seriously hurt and then laughed. He said something about her losing her virginity to a punching bag, whatever any of that meant. He hadn’t been concerned though. It hadn’t hurt except for the second she did whatever it was. The bleeding was barely there and had stopped within an hour. Whatever this was was NOT the same thing. She knew that for certain.
Father rubbed his face and muttered to himself before making her sit on the toilet. His body said stay, so she stayed, even as he left the room. It was silly, but she felt scared. It hurt, and Father was confused. He was never confused. He was too smart.
The pain spread to her hips as she waited. What was taking so long?! She wanted her dad back! Where was he? She wrapped her arms under her belly button, squeezing to try to alleviate the discomfort. It helped a bit, but it made her bleed more. She wasn’t sure that it was smart to keep doing it. You could only bleed so long. She clenched her hands into fists as she shifted again.
He finally returned after an hour, two boxes and clean clothes in hand. He set them on the counter, opening one. It was a square of plastic. Wait, no. The plastic was just a wrapper. Father took a long white thing out of it and stuck it to her clean underwear. She watched his little demonstration. He gestured towards her clothes and left. She wiped herself off as much as she could and put on the fresh things. It was back to training for her.
-•-
Over the past year, Cass had gotten good at dealing with her period. She’d long since made the switch to tampons. (Though, she needed help from her dad the first time. That was embarrassing.) Training got easier. The pain had reduced significantly. The other symptoms had died down. All signs pointed towards this whole thing being annoying, but not awful. All signs may have been wrong.
Living at Wayne Manor was great. Really great. Bruce was nice. She had made her first friends! She had a bay window full of sunlight in the library she could nap in whenever she wanted. She ate more and spent less time training. The first two months had gone by without a hitch. Month three, however…
It was a sleepy Saturday at the manor. Cass was napping in the bay window. Jason and Damian were reading in silence. Tim was dozing off despite his third coffee of the day still clutched in his hand. Ace was sprawled in front of the big couch. Bruce and Alfred were elsewhere, but were keeping quiet. There was an air of cozy contentment.
Jason glanced up as Cass rolled over before looking back to his book. Suddenly, what he’d seen clicked and he looked back up again, catching Damian’s attention.
“Todd, why is Cain bleeding?!”
“I… I’m gonna go wake her up. Wait a sec.” He walked over to the window. “Cass. Cass. Wake up, please.”
Cass woke up, confused and drowsy. Wait did Jason want? Then she noticed that her pants were wet. Then, the pain hit. Pain she knew immediately. She sat up, trying to assess the situation. She was cramping so badly she could barely think about anything else. Focus. She needed to focus.
There was blood on the cushion. Oh, no. There was blood on the beige cushion. And on her clothes. Alfred was going to kill her. But she couldn’t do anything about this, so she’d have to take whatever punishment she got like a good girl- er, well, not girl. Not really. But Father never had to punish a knife or a gun, so close enough.
Jason’s hands were on her shoulders. “Are you ok?” His body said embarrassed-worry-compassion.
Cass nodded, hoping that was a good enough answer as she tried to hide how badly her stomach hurt. It hadn’t hurt this badly since the first time. Why now?! Why ever?!
She could feel her insides twisting. More blood flowed and she knew there was yet another stain on the cushion. Alfred was not going to be happy with her. She needed to go put something on.
She tried to stand, legs wobbling as pain flared from her lower back to her thighs. Jason luckily still had a grip on her. This was truly embarrassing. She wasn’t even a real person, why couldn’t she bring herself to just ignore the pain, like always? She’d taken bullets without flinching! Now this completely normal thing was going to affect her? Really?!
Damian returned (Cass had noticed him leave. Definitely.) with both Bruce and Alfred. The two men quickly took in what was going on.
“Ok.” Bruce said as he scooped Cassandra up into his arms. She wiggled, trying to get free before she realized that he just wanted to hold her. She immediately settled back down. “Game plan: I’ll get her sorted if you’ll get the stains out of the couch, Alf.”
“Sounds alright to me, Master Bruce.” Alfred sighed as he sorted through his cleaning supplies.
“Is anyone going to explain why you are all so comfortable about the fact that Cain is bleeding?!” Poor Damian had already been forgotten in the hubbub.
“I guess I will.” Bruce pulled Cass closer. “Follow me, Sport.” Damian followed Bruce out of the library.
Cass was unsure what Bruce and Damian were talking about. She knew that she was being discussed, but not much else. Probably her period was the point of interest- Damian had looked so scared when he saw the blood. He kept asking questions, and Bruce kept answering them. Cass wondered what that was like.
She could deal with not knowing if she got to snuggle like this more often. She could feel Bruce’s pulse in her bones, feel every flex of muscle as he walked with her in his arms. The tightness of his muscles, his confident stride, and firm grip on her made Cass fully confident that Bruce wouldn’t drop her. That was good. That meant more snuggles. She loved to snuggle, especially when she bled. She wasn’t sure why. She just got emotional and clingy and had an overwhelming need for everything to be perfectly comfy and cozy and warm.
Cass hid her disappointment when Bruce put her down on her bed while he grabbed her fresh clothes. Hers were filthy. She only had to feel them on her skin to know that. That was a good reason she always wore black. You couldn’t see blood stains. He handed her the clean ones, gently rubbing her shoulder. Then he left.
She hobbled her way to the bathroom. She cleaned herself up. She got a tampon from the cabinet under the sink. She changed into the clean clothes. She still hurt, but that was her problem. She was lucky she’d even made it this far without getting in trouble. She didn’t need to add being a wimp to her list of offenses.
When she left the bathroom, Alfred was remaking her bed. The white sheets had been replaced with red, though the gray comforter had stayed. Alfred tsked, not pleased with the colors. He pulled off the comforter, placing it in her linen laundry basket along with the white sheets. He noticed her, smiled, and gestured for her to follow him. She did. She knew better than to ignore him.
“You see, lass, it was my mistake to give a young lady white sheets in the first place. That was silly of me. At least this happened while you were out of bed so I didn’t have to bleach them.”
They arrived at a massive linen closet. Alfred stared for a moment before selecting a navy blue comforter. He handed it to her before grabbing a box. They dutifully carried the items towards her room.
“You’re a good child. Do you know that, Miss Cassandra? A true delight to have around the house. God knows that we needed the estrogen.”
Back at her room, Cass handed the blanket over. Alfred spread it out over her bed, tucking and folding with a precision that Cass had never bothered with when making a bed. He opened the box, pulling out and unfolded a thick piece of fuzzy blue fabric with a cord, which Alfred plugged into the nearest outlet. He adjusted the numbered knob while making sure that she watched. He set it to three, and then let it sit as he slipped the now empty box under her bed.
He pulled back the blankets, made her lay down, and draped the fuzzy fabric over her stomach and- oh. Oh! It was warm. So warm. She could feel her muscles relaxing as soon as it touched her. Alfred pulled the blankets up around her, creating a cocoon of warmth. She snuggled as far into the bed as she could get. Alfred chuckled, running a gloved hand through her hair.
Bruce walked in, a glass of iced water and a pink and yellow box in his hands. He opened the box and broke off two pills, handing the tin to Alfred who popped them out and handed them to her. Bruce handed her the glass.
Cass was confused. What did she need pills for? She wasn’t sick. This was probably some sort of punishment for staining the window cushions earlier. Oh, well. She took them both anyway, setting the glass carefully on the bedside table. Bruce and Alfred left, flipping off the lights and closing the door.
She fell asleep for a while. When she woke, the pain in her stomach had eased considerably. Her back, hips, and thighs didn’t hurt at all anymore. Maybe her body had fixed itself? Whatever Bruce gave her hadn’t hurt her, either. Wait… were those pills why she didn’t hurt much anymore? They made pills for that? Wow.
She still felt sleepy. And comfy. And warm. Her eyelids felt heavy, begging to stay closed. Maybe… maybe she could sleep for just a little bit longer. Just a bit…