Fic #2 made for @casscainweek 2026!
I suddenly got very sick, but still had to work so we are one day behind. Tomorrow, we publish chapter 3 and 4!
The reason, which may be apparent here, is that all 7 stories are supposed to be vaguely connected!
AO3 Link: Posting tomorrow. Sorry, it's bedtime.
If you like: Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Original Characters, or StephCass ship, angst, protectiveness, etc, this is for you!
Enjoy~!
Something people don’t tell you about ghosts?
Is that they never leave.
No, not the lowercase g ghost, like a spirit or ghoul (although Cassandra knew them to exist), but more so the metaphorical ghosts. The nightmares of her past, the wolves howling in the trees, the blood on her hands. You can alleviate the guilt, you can push away the past, you can grow older, wiser, and better than you once were. But nothing disappears. It just becomes manageable. Or, at least, that’s what she thought.
The trio had been sent under Oracle’s supervision on a mission. Cassandra and Stephanie as the Batgirls (not confusing at all, in the field), and Sol. It wasn’t her first fight or outing, but it was her first official mission, approved by Batman and Oracle, with the nod of Red Robin and Robin. She had been rescued by Cassandra six months ago and, although her natural skill was suspicious and she clearly didn’t like Bruce (or want to be family), she was skilled. Not to mention her powers.
“Placeholder.” Oracle’s voice in the comms. It was Stephanie’s idea to call Sol by that call-sign, much to the newbie’s chagrin. “I know you have eyes on. Stay out here, keep sharp, and help as many of them as you can. I’m managing traffic to direct ambulances to you as fast as possible.”
“Roger that,” Sol said. No jokes, no pretend confidence, only serious neutrality. Sure, she carried herself seriously, but the sight ahead ruined even Stephanie’s playful crime-fighting mood.
Dozens of civilians were strewn across the floor, in varying conditions. Some dead, some groaning in pain, and blood everywhere. The newbie ran straight ahead, wearing a very basic mix of clothes: a skintight latex suit, similar to that of some other family members, with the lower half hidden behind black cargo pants and cargo boots, the top hugging her curves, chest, and broad shoulders. A face mask covered her jaw and mouth, curls were tied back into a bun, and glowing green eyes grew brighter with silent panic.
“Oracle,” Stephanie said, her voice small.
“I know, BG2. But we had no choice. Look at it."
The three veterans understood the meaning of this simple exchange: Stephanie was worried. Sol could not be ready for this, whatever it was, simple or not. Not just because her powers were relatively unknown, but because she hadn’t ever seen such a terrible scenario. To her credit, she slid down on her knees to the nearest wounded, eyes pulsing as her bare hands touched the bloodied bodies.
“Footsteps leading into the building,” Sol said, a foot pinning her patient’s arm down as she pressed painfully into the wound. Who said healing was a pleasant process? “I count thirty...eight injuries. Some fatalities. Tell EMS we need blood- Like, a lot of fucking blood. I have no clue if I make up for that when I touch them.”
“She’s got it, Batgirls. Go in.”
Now this was the dream.
Not the slaughter, of course, or the morbid pit in both girls' stomachs at the scene they had left behind. Working together, alone, as they often did. For Cass, who originally was awkward and unsure of Stephanie, anxious to have a peer, the blonde was her ride or die. Not because she’d taken the Batgirl mantle so well, but before that. She’d earned her trust. And…
Love. Cassandra pushed the thought aside as the two walked deeper into the building, a nightclub, but since she had made that idiotic declaration without understanding what it could mean, things had been different.
“BG2,” Stephanie whispered, pointing a tiny flashlight ahead. A trail of bloody prints, not feet like Sol had seen outside, but larger, with grooves in the ground as if made by claws. “Meta situation, maybe? Looks like it went deeper into the club.”
“Dark?” Cass asked.
Both shared a nod and shut off any light or device. The quiet hiss of their grappling hooks tugged them up to steel beams and girders, clearly kept for the retro look, and beside the moonlight leaking in through a few windows, both girls moved as if completely invisible.
“Sol, to all-”
“You can’t use your real name, Placeholder, even if you’re missing records.”
“BG2, I’m gonna end you. Anyways, there’s something weird about these victims. It ain’t gunshot wounds, knives, burns, nothing normal. It looks like a really big fucking dog decided to have dinner, and never stopped biting.”
A glint of blonde in the moonlight. Cassandra leaned into view, watching Steph, who just shrugged. This wasn’t anything they had seen before.
“I’m looking for anything on our database, for now, keep-”
“Fuck! Oracle, they’re not-” The three heroines listen as Sol’s interrupted, grunting and struggling with something. “-EVAC THE- HIJO DE PUTA-” With a defiant cry and what sounds like a fall, her comm goes offline. Stephanie’s eyes go wide with concern. After all, Sol was her civilian best friend before everything happened, and she was forced into the life.
“Girls, I’m working on it and sending backup. But you two need to find the source of our problem before this gets bigger. Sol will be fine.”
Maybe they would have argued, retreated to save their newest, most vulnerable companion- Until the snarl came. From deeper within the building, echoing against the walls from far away, and reaching beyond the two young vigilantes. Enough to make Cassandra sink back into the shadows, and Stephanie shiver as she listened.
They weren’t hunting the problem. It was hunting them.
Whatever it was lunged past the window, a black blur in the sliver of moonlight, straight for Stephanie. The blonde leapt with a quick-second reaction time, in a perfect arc to catch one of her partner’s hands and be swung onto another girder. The growl appeared again, low and frustrated, bouncing all around the room rather than in one direction. Stephanie tapped her cowl, activating night vision, and Cassandra followed.
It provided little help. The thing left from spot to spot with enough speed to remain a blur, hiding behind walls and furniture and junk as if it knew it was being watched. All they could see now was the green glow of night vision and its shadow.
“...it smells like dog,” Stephanie whispered, rising carefully.
“Dog!” Cassandra yelled, heart skipping a beat as both Batgirls jumped off their spot, again. Because this time, in a ray of moonlight, they could see the dripping maw of what attacked them. The teeth as large as a hand, eyes full of wild bloodlust, fur and muscle, and limbs twisted into a vaguely humanoid form.
“Oracle, what are we dealing with here? Please tell me it isn’t a werewolf!”
“It’s a werewolf. Your imagery coincides with that of one Anthony Lupus, who has fought Batman a couple of times, and the magician Constantine. But don’t hurt him-”
“He killed!” Cassandra growled, voice low and deadly itself as she rolled out of the way of a lunge, again, and dropped three small pellets to the ground. They blew into a cloud of smoke, surprising the werewolf, who stumbled back into Stephanie. The blonde swung her bo staff for the back of the legs, forcing the creature down in a howl of pain.
“He’s feral, Oracle,” Stephanie said. “I mean, how do we even stop this without hurting him?”
“Anthony Lupus has lived in self-imposed exhile for years to avoid hurting people,” Oracle said, as all three fighters began a deadly game of tag, dodging and weaving from each other, both Batgirls swapping spots and pulling each other along, as if they always knew where the other would be. “It’s more likely someone is manipulating him.”
“How do we stop it?” Cassandra barked, reluctant but obedient. She understood not being in control, being used, even if the memory of those corpses made her blood boil, and the worry over Sol caused impatience.
“Just keep him busy until back-up arrives. Batman has stopped him before, with silver.”
“Great,” Stephanie huffed, ducking under a claw and throwing more smoke bombs. “Keep the wolfman busy! We need a raise, BG1.”
“Focus,” Cassandra barked, throwing three batarangs as the beast ignored the smoke bombs and lunged for her friend. They barely pierced the skin, but the three consecutive explosions knocked him on his side. “He’s after you.”
She couldn’t tell why or how, but she was sure. The beast barely looked at Cassandra, reacted only to lash back or take an opportunity, but wasn’t really gunning for the hero. Steph, on the other hand, was already sweating, forced to jump back and forth, roll, counter, and fight, even as Cassandra dove in, helped her escape, or tried to draw attention.
“I can lead him up to the roof, maybe we can drop- GAH!”
Hesitation. Stephanie was an amazing warrior, better than the one Cassandra had met, but she was good. She worried, she got distracted, she felt mercy. Cass was no killer, but in battle, she wasn’t a saint either. Not like Steph. The girl searching for solutions, always wanting to help, and getting distracted so easily. And when Cassandra heard that pained cry, saw the long claws digging into the blonde heroine’s gut, the werewolf standing tall and victorious in moonlight, she lost it.
No more words. No more thoughts. Just the trained weapon she once was. Cassandra pulled six batarangs and hurled them at the monster, who released Stephanie and tried to dodge. Its form was quick but not agile enough, avoiding two and roaring as another four blasted it in rapid succession. She grapple-hooked upwards- only for a moment- and as Lupus charged underneath her, she released the gadget and spun into a downwards kick, knocking its head into concrete. Still, her opponent growled and swiped at her, but she simply flipped backwards twice and landed close to the ground, wielding three more batarangs in her right hand.
This time, when he charged, the Batgirl didn’t throw explosives and run. Steph was bleeding out, and she had to win this. Now. With her ability to read bodies and predict movements, she didn’t care about taking risks; she knew she’d win. Even if somehow she got injured. And so, they danced. Lunges, pirouettes, flips, and bends. Each time the maw or claws got close, Cassandra was just out of reach, sliding in ever closer to slash with her batarangs, like claws of her own. Blood, smelling disgusting and definitely not human, began to stain the floor in droves.
ROAR! Slash!
Chomp! Stab!
Stomp! Cleave!
Each attack from the wolf missed while the heroine connected. Until slowly, finally, it collapsed to the ground, breathing hard. It roared halfheartedly, in pain not defiance, as large muscles began to convulse and shrink, loud cries turning into weak little whimpers, which turned into desperate panting and human pleas for help. Until, finally, Anthony Lupus lay naked before her. A large, muscular, Caucasian man with a mane of brown hair and hair across his torso and arms. He lay on the ground, eyes hazy from everything tonight, and coughed.
“...help-”
Yet, Cassandra wasn’t done. It was like something had taken over the moment she saw the terrible blow hit Stephanie. Her best friend. The woman she had said she loved. Batgirl looms over Lupus, then lifts him by the throat and wields a Batarang.
“No, please,” he choked, knees trembling, unable to even stand alone. His blue eyes widened with fear.
Cassandra had been in bad moments before. She’d been mind-controlled, manipulated, forced, and even chosen some of her torments. She killed her mother, Shiva, because she saw no other way and knew she could revive her. She killed than man when she was eight, something she still felt guilt over, and hurt plenty of people before reaching Gotham and learning to be better. She’d never caved on her own, though, not even when her biological father, David Cain, hung at her mercy.
But...the sight of Stephanie Brown’s fear, the blood dripping from her gut, the whimper of pain as she shook in the air, grasping at the claws...it made Cassandra angry. Possibly angrier than she’s ever been. For Stephanie? She would die. And right now, it felt like she’d kill too. Despite always resisting the impulse, even when others thought it was justified.
Maybe she would have resisted it now, on her own again. But the sound of a blade slicing through the air caught her attention. She leaned back and held Lupus still, watching a Batarang fly right in front of her mask without concern. Her head turned to see Sol, bloodied and battered, but standing.
The newbie’s face mask was long gone. Her cargo pants were torn to shreds, revealing cuts in her skintight suit but no wounds, presumably having healed herself. She was missing a boot, and her chocolate curls looked wild- As if she’d wrestled with the wind and lost. She raised another batarang, panting tiredly.
“Drop the werewolf, Batgirl,” Sol said firmly. Even though her hand was trembling. Even though she could barely stay afoot. Even though, at her best, she could never get close to beating Cassandra Cain. “Don’t make me ask again.”
In that moment, with dull green eyes staring at the Batgirl warily, conviction in her voice, surrender nowhere to be seen, Cassandra realized two things: Sol would be a hero. But also, she had reverted to what she once was, in the girl’s eyes. Sol couldn’t know that Cassandra had always held back, hadn’t seen every challenge she’d overcome, every effort to avoid killing. If anything, she understood why Cass would kill this man, and it worried her more. Because she understood. Because she thought Cassandra would do it.
So, Cassandra dropped the man and stared at Sol. After a few moments, the healer limped over to Lupus, falling to her knees, and tossed the batarang aside.
“Go help BG2,” Sol said gruffly. “I’ll save her. Just keep her awake.”
Stephanie. How Sol, so new and green, kept herself so composed was beyond Cassandra. Even worse, in her sudden rage and protective instincts, she had forgotten Stephanie. Her heart raced with fear and guilt, immediately dashing to her friend, pulling off her mask, and looking over the blonde.
“Steph,” Cass croaked, putting both hands on her sternum, where the claws had sunk deep. She whimpered in pain, eyes half open. How long had Cassandra taken to beat the wolf? A minute? Two? She should have helped her friend, should have made a better plan, should have saved-
“Cassandra.”
That word alone, soft and beautiful, brought her spiral of panic under control. Cassandra felt tears slide down her cheeks as Stephanie reached up, cupping her face.
“It’s alright,” Stephanie whispered, smiling softly. “I’m going to be fine.”
But no, she was dying, and Sol was drained to the bone.
“Move.”
The moment she finished that thought, Sol spoke, her command deep and menacing, almost a different person entirely. She struggled to push Cassandra aside, breathing labored and face pale, and the Batgirl fell softly onto her hands, barely able to allow herself even that distance from her best friend.
The newbie didn’t say another word, not to reassure her patient or Cassandra. She fell to one knee, hugging herself with one arm and pressing the other to Stephanie’s body. With a deep inhale and closing her eyes, she focused.
The air seemed to still. The silence grew until even the sirens outside felt muted. Slowly, but surely, an almost imperceptible green glow appeared at the edge of Stephanie’s wound. Sol exhaled shakily as she worked, eyes remaining closed as two lone tears cut down her cheeks, and yet she did not falter. Whatever pain she felt, pain Cass could see written all over her body, was not enough to stop her. Then she opened her eyes, the glow stopped, and Stephanie sighed in relief. The blonde’s head fell limp, unconscious, suit stained with blood but flesh stitched anew.
“I’m...amazing…” Sol slurred, her green eyes lacking any glow whatsoever, for the first time since she gained her powers, as far as Cassandra knew. Then the budding vigilante slumped over, right into Batgirl’s trembling arms.
What the hell had happened?
A simple mission had turned into this: Two friends down and beaten, the blood of three people on her hands, and the ghost of her past looming over her with serious intent.
She had been ready to kill at a moment's notice when she thought Steph would die. Maybe she wouldn’t have, but now she’ll never know.
Something they don’t tell you about ghosts, Cassandra thought again. Is that they never leave.
(Detective Comics #505): I went back to read this issue. I'd heard about it, and I like it. Gerry Conway brings back the character of Anthony Lupus and finally gives him a somewhat optimistic ending. He might find a cure for his condition, after years in hiding. They never really bring the character back after this, but i'd like to think he really does receive a happy ending.
March–April 1974. Just another rainy Thursday in Gotham City: Batman attempts to use an old cotter pin to pick a lock with his teeth while fighting a hungry werewolf, in a scene from BATMAN #255.
So here’s some quick sketches of my new DC Comics AU story called “The She-Wolf of Gotham” that I drew out just recently!!
So yeah, essentially Luna Lopez is a 16 year old Santa Priscan American nerdy teenager from New York City as she and her criminal psychologist mother, Dr. Rosetta “Rosie” Lopez, are currently moving to Gotham City, NJ as apparently her mother had gotten herself a new job as a leading psychologist in the notorious Arkham Asylum as they both soon move into Rosetta’s old neighborhood which happens to be Gotham City’s lesser-known Santa Priscan cliffside neighborhood called “Las Rocas” (a.k.a. “The Rocks”) which just happens to be right across from Slaughter Swamp (a.k.a. “The Birthplace of Solomon Grundy”).
But Luna Lopez herself soon finds herself being relentlessly bullied by most of the girls in their new private school that her mother paid an hefty amount of money to get her into (mainly because of her chubby figure, nerdy hobbies & even some racism due to her Santa Priscan heritage) as she even had to deal with being horrifically pranked by the popular girls in her school Stephen King style during her time at the homecoming dance that she was invited to as while she was desperately trying to call for a ride home while walking through Gotham’s Robinson Park, she soon gets attacked/mauled nearly to death by one of Batman’s lesser-known villains known simply as “The Werewolf” (a.k.a. “The Disgraced Olympic Decathlon Runner Anthony Lupus”) who had just recently broke out of Arkham Asylum a few hours earlier.
So shortly afterwards, Luna managed to save herself just in time as she used her new revolver that her mother had given to her earlier for self-defense as she soon shot down The Werewolf dead 7 times in the chest to save herself as the GCDP soon arrived on the scene to carry her off to the nearest hospital where while recovering from her injuries in her hospital room on a particularly starry night, she soon rapidly transformed & quite literally “Wolf-Out” into Gotham’s newest monstrous antihero “The She-Wolf of Gotham”!!
A renowned chemist who turned to crime, Achilles Milo used a variety of chemical and medical-related schemes to kill Batman involving subjecting Batman to a drug that made him afraid of anything bat-shaped, gassing Batman with a compound that made him lose his will to live, and manipulating the werewolf-like Anthony Lupus into doing his bidding. At one time, Milo took control of Arkham Asylum and attempted to make Batman insane with yet another gas. When Batman tried to apprehend him, Milo was overpowered by the mad inmates, who had sided with Batman, and exposed to his own gas which drove him insane, and he spent some time in Arkham Asylum as a patient himself. He first appeared in Detective Comics #247 (July 23, 1957).
