You were on Gotham’s rooftops… and it was damn cold tonight.

You'd been waiting for about fifteen minutes— give or take, waiting for a grumpy-Batgirl-shaped shadow to appear. Cassandra was always on time. Always. So something had to be up

Just as you were about to head off, your phone buzzed. Cassandra has sent you a single message:

"Not. Coming."

No explanation. No emoji. Nothing.

So you changed course, heading straight back to the manor. You could feel that something wasn’t right.

Inside, the house was mostly quiet. Alfred was off doing chores. No one else seemed to be home. You climbed the stairs, walking straight toward Cassandra’s room. When you knocked, there was no answer— so you pushed the door open...

And there she was.

Curled up in her bed, still in a hoodie, face buried in her own pillow and with her blanket a total mess— laid Cassandra. She didn’t even look up. She just muttered grumply into her pillow

“...Go away.”

After a single second, she spoke again— softly and barely audible

“...No. Stay.”

Cass finally turned her face toward you, her hair a black mess and sticking to her face where she was laying. Her expression was tight with discomfort, and she looked like she hated even having to admit this. And after a moment of silence, she mumbled:

“… period.”

She let the words hang there in the air before letting out a quiet groan as another wave of crams hit and buried her face again

“Cramps. Bad. Everything hurts.”

Cass flipped herself around in bed, looking at the wall

“… didn’t feel like patrolling like this. And too cold outside.”

Cassandra’s voice was thick with frustration. Usually, she doesn’t skip patrol for any reason at all… so it really shows in how much pain she’s in right now… but then, she followed it up in a more weak, shy voice

“… Didn’t want you to see me like this. Weak. Gross.”