-ˋˏ 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 & 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗰𝗲 ˎˊ-

open starter!

Then. 

In the cold frigid months of 1943, Lieutenant Steve Trevor was assigned a seemingly inconsequential mission where he took off with several officers and was expected to land with none after the completion of a HALO jump. Their exact mission? Lieutenant Trevor knew better than to ask questions. Unfortunately, it is suspected no jump was ever completed - like so many others, all aboard disappeared without a trace, soon to be presumed dead. 

This is not the story of what happened to them. 

Now. 

Steve went from fast asleep to wide awake in no time at all, squinting at his - his eyes narrowed further - not his watch, learning that he had slept later than he ever had before (in any of his lives). A quick (but obviously not thorough) survey of his surroundings told him that he was not in the expected cell, but a bedroom. Strange. But he wasted no time on why, clambering out of bed and toward the door. Unlocked. Both surprised and appropriately suspicious, Steve unplugged the nearest lamp, removed the shade, and promptly stomped on the freed bulb after placing it beneath the muffled safety of a pillow. Shade returned, he hesitated only briefly before picking up the biggest shard of glass, too, tucking it under his sleeve. Two weapons. Good. Finally, he ran.

Some hours later.

The Mousehole was loud. In that pleasant, people going about their lives kinda way but also in a way that made his head pound and had him flinching away from the (color!) television anytime something exploded (or the sound simply spiked). Don’t get him wrong, Steve still couldn’t believe his luck - yes, he mostly understood that he had an unusual case of amnesia and that this meant he had not actually done anything revolutionary like time-travel or resurrect, he didn’t even have immortality like Miss Diana. But he was alive, the War over. How could he not count his blessings. 

(This is what he told himself, anyway, when he thought of the friends and family he left behind and all the concerns that he might never develop new memories. Because things, he knew, could be so much worse.) 

Still, it wasn’t long before Steve decided he needed a break and he sought it - just a quick detour to the kitchen where he was inevitably caught for the second time that day with an armful of food.  He smiled, his most charming grin. “You only live -” Well, no, apparently that wasn’t true. For him anyway. And so he shrugged, just catching a wayward bag. “I might not remember to try them tomorrow.” Which really would be unfortunate.

Cassie was struggling to get adjusted to the Mousehole’s quirks, and she still hadn’t met all the people living in the castle (which, if she were being honest, she wasn’t all that upset about avoiding introductions with some of the more unpleasant residents), but at least she could remember important things when she woke up like who would stab her if she drank the last of their soy milk and who was tolerable to have a conversation with.  

“Tt, you just don’t actually listen. Tim treated her like like that. I am a much improved ally to her. My friends enjoy my company.” At least they pretended to and that was more than he got from some people. He knew more than anything, he was better off than she was with friends. He had a team, kind of. They considered themselves the Young Avengers, plus him. Tacked on as the extra. But it was still better than trying to get rid of him the way Titans had.

He wanted to slam down the bowl and shatter it. He wanted to throw the chair back. He wanted to grab her hair and shove her stupid head into his bowl of oatmeal for that. It was probably the most cutting insult she had ever lobbed at him. “You disbanded the team because of me?! I was injured because you couldn’t come up with a plan that covered everyone’s safety. I took that shot because you were busy celebrating a victory we hadn’t actually won yet because you hadn’t considered the entire battle field. I was covering for your mistake so if you decided to disband the team, don’t blame it on me! You just can’t comprehend combat without being invulnerable. You think flying around means you actually know what you’re doing when it doesn’t! You’re just a coward.”

Damian did stand up then. Yelling was just making the anger bigger, pushing energy into his limbs. He could feel his heart hammering and the spot on his chest burning in the memory of that day. “I don’t owe you anything, certainly not the work I’ve done to be Robin. A good Robin. A work you’ve only ever stood in the way of.”

Cassie, to most people, probably looked a little ridiculous with Oreo cookie dust all over her hands and her mouth open in a particularly outraged gape–––but there was a very real danger that she might punch Damian hard enough to send her fist through his skull, Pop-Tart crumbs and all, so she took a beat to search the fridge for any variety of milk that didn’t come from a plant. “Your revisionist powers are truly incredible,” she finally said after the frigid air literally cooled her off, but she could still hear the blood rushing in her ears and she was sure her cheeks were ruddy with rage. “I mean, who else could insult their friend by saying her boyfriend likes his women ‘blonde and oblivious’ and then turn it around into how great of a friend they are exactly sixty seconds later.”

It was a good thing she didn’t have anything in her hands this time, or she’d be cleaning up milk splatters off every surface of the kitchen for the next hours. “What?” The indignant gape was back, but at least her hands were clean now in case she did end up punching him right in his smug, stupid face. “You took that shot because you didn’t follow the plan because you thought you knew better––as perfucking usual. It’s one thing to be an arrogant prick when you’re someone’s sidekick, but you’re supposed to work as a team when you’re, you know, on a fucking team.”

.

“Don’t mention it,” Billy let out with a wave of his hand, blue sparks purposefully flying around his fingertips. If he put on a pretty show, it almost made it look like he had any idea what the hell he was doing with his magic. “Useful, not gonna lie, but if I mess up, I can break the fabric of reality, so… not all that harmless either.” Was he trying to make her feel better or himself feel worse? The world would never know.

“Besides, superstrength has its perks.” He smiled, a private little joke. “I’m Billy, my team calls me Wiccan,” he offered, extending a hand. He hadn’t pulled up a chair yet, hoping to ease into conversation first. “Which sometimes causes a bit of confusion, because I’m actually Jewish.”

Cassie blinked for a moment. It wasn’t often that someone could on-up her on the subject of large-scale destruction, but all of reality was hard to beat. “Well,” she smirked slightly and looked back at the freshly un-shattered tablet screen, “that really puts breaking a tablet bought with generational wealth money into perspective. Thanks.”

She snorted and leaned her cheek against her knuckles, “I guess if you ever need help moving a couch into your dorm, sure––but the abs are a perk.” Truthfully, she’d risk disrupting reality for the chance to build something for a change, but talking about how the grass was always greener was a stupid way to get to know someone. “Cassie,” she took his hand and gave it a shake, “Wonder Girl. Also, a Demi-God which is a little confusing because I’m actually agnostic.”

Cassie was sulking. After her own talk with Damian, Donna knew that Cassie would be somewhere in a mood that could rival even Hera’s on such a day. So, when she made her way out into the grounds, she wasn’t surprised to see Cassie hidden away, pouting in a way that Donna could only describe as disgruntled. With an amused smile, she shifted to sit down by her sister, gracefully arranging her limbs into an elegant fold as she got comfortable for such a conversation. “It’s been quite a while, yeah,” she said instead of picking up on the bitterness.

“What has he done this time?” She asked, deftly picking up a few of the blades of grass that Cassie had ripped out and starting to twist them together in an elaborate braided system. “Tell me about it - as a sister, not as the HR specialist for once.” She was certain Cassie would have plenty to say either way but she preferred to make it clear that she was there to be emotional support, not to make the Mousehole run smoothly. Not this time.

…

“Oh… sorry let me just” then the room suddenly got warmer as Bobby drew the coldness out of the air without lifing a finger. “Better?” He questioned then chuckled. “Believe me, you do not want an icicle death, it’s dirty and you’ll die from the infection rather than the gaping wound caused by it.” Speaking from experience of course. 

“I’m Bobby, Bobby Drake. I just got back from a mission, so I’m readjusting to pretty much everything. There’s lots of new faces around here, kinda daunting.”

“Much.” Cassie’s skin warmed as the ice disappeared, and when she sighed, the window panes didn’t fog. A marked improvement for a girl who wore a hoodie anytime the temperature dipped below 70° Fahrenheit. “Gross,” Cassie’s nose wrinkled as she imagined the gangrene, “if I ever piss you off, please just aim right for the heart––or at least the forehead so I get lobotomized in the process.” 

“Cassie.” She understood the sentiment. Sometimes, she wondered if she would’ve been better off in California. Sure, she was alone and dodging the ISA between online classes, but at least she didn’t have to hide in a field when she wanted alone time. “I just call people by the color of their shirt and say I’m preserving grey matter.”    

Maybe it was different now. Having lived through Stephanie dying just after Damian started with the Titans, then having her come back during his return to Robin. She was… a friend. He considered her a proper friend. He knew she had to put up with him, get past his prickliness, sometimes ignore when he took something too far. He knew he was a bad friend. But he was her friend. Damian had to fight for those. And Cassie was not one of them. “Stephanie is my friend. I know it might be hard to understand, since you don’t have any of those that stick around.”

Damian wasn’t hungry anymore, but he couldn’t be the first to leave the room. Now it was a stand off. Cassie may be able to take him in a contest of strength, but this was a different battle. “Tell me, did Tim come after you when you disbanded the Titans and ran off? How many of your friends reached out to find out if you were safe during the ISA raids? I imagine not many. Seems like it isn’t that you’re a woman I have a problem with you, it’s that you’re a terrible leader incapable of real human connections.”

Damian knew how easily that could be turned on him. But he was different now. he had friends. He had the Young Avengers here now. He had changed. He had… grown. Surely, he had grown. He wished he was more confident with that thought before he put the loaded gun on the table though.

Cassie didn’t think Damian had been schooled enough in the art of social interaction to consciously realize what he was doing––or maybe he had, considering how manipulative his mother was, but he certainly didn’t seem to comprehend enough to weaponize gaslighting. Cassie was pretty sure he truly believed that he hadn’t just insulted Stephanie seconds prior despite, y’know, reality. “Do you call all your friends oblivious blondes who revolve around a boy until they’re replaced?” She arched a brow and ran her tongue over the smooth edge of her teeth until the sour taste his words left in her mouth resided, “Hard to tell your friends from your enemies with such glowing reviews.”

For a moment, she could’ve sworn Damian wasn’t sitting across from her. For a moment, he was sprawled on the floor in a sticky pool of his own blood like a baby robin who fell out of his nest. Except, he didn’t squawk. He didn’t puff up his featherless wings. He just...laid there, head flopped to the side, while blood sluggishly seeped from his gunshot wound. For once, he was quiet. She didn’t think she’d ever dread a silent Damian. Her lashes fluttered as her eyes refocused. “I disbanded the team because you were a fucking liability, and I could do so much more without worrying about you getting yourself killed all the time.”

.

Billy wouldn’t have said anything, intent on moving along and pretending that he hadn’t caught one of the Wonder Sisters next to a broken tablet. Yet the girl started talking and he glanced around – no one else in the room, so maybe he could save her some face. And not let Damian find out about it, to avoid unnecessary conflict.

“Or we can try something else.” He stepped towards the table and place his hand over the remaining pieces. “Repair devicerepairdevicerepairdevice…” A flash of blue and the tablet was whole again, fully functioning. “Pay for what?” He asked, innocent smile playing on his lips. “Was that the only one?”

“Thanks,” Cassie’s brow arched slightly of its own accord as she watched the shards of screen weave back together. She should really be used to these sorts of things after meeting a whole pantheon of gods, but witchcraft and wizardry still felt like it belonged in fairytales. Maybe, it was the red cape fluttering behind him and the puff of sapphire static––bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. “The only one I’m allowed near,” Cassie looked up from the tablet, a crooked, little smirk glimmering in the corner of her mouth. “I’m really good at breaking things––y’know, punching through walls, smashing pickle jars,” she gestured to her most recent crime scene, “cracking miscellaneous devices.” Not a particularly helpful skillset outside of combat, but she had her uses. Maybe, someone needed help demoing a dated bathroom somewhere: enter one volatile Wonder Girl. “But fixing things?” She leaned back against her chair and smiled, “What’s that like.” 

Cassie had always assumed that when people found out Donna was her sister, they were immediately perplexed. She, herself, couldn’t believe it when she first found out, and it only became stranger the more time she spent with her. Donna was, in Cassie’s eyes, perfect. Had been ever since Cassie watched her fly around in her star-spangled red suit on the news while her mom tried to keep her head straight and do something with her knotted hair. People flocked to her, and that was just a coincidental perk to being Donna Troy. That effortless grace––Cassie was convinced that she was born with it...or, rather, crafted with it. Cassie, on the other hand, was the textbook example of an attention-seeker. She came out slimy with someone else’s blood, kicking and screaming, and she never changed. She was a troublemaker––uncontrolled, dramatic, sensitive. And she was Donna’s sister. Imagine that. 

Cassie made him absolutely boil. It was one thing when it was Tim, who trained hard, who worked hard, who fought the same battle as Damian to be good enough to fight along side powers and aliens and gods. Sure, Damian would push him off a bike if he saw the chance, but he knew when it came to it, he and Tim were playing the same game. Cassie was capable of surviving anything without any real effort. She just breezed into a situation and didn’t have to think it through.

He wanted so badly to jam the fork into her hand and make her feel pain.

But when she turned, Pop-Tart crumbs in her hand, he thought he might actually have won a point in that round. “Tim isn’t here ‘doing the Robin thing’. I am. Because Father knows I am the best at what I do.” It was an easy brag, even if he felt like he was wearing the wrong cape, it didn’t fit quite right anymore. But Cassie didn’t know that. She knew him as Robin, confident, loud, deadly. He’d happily wear the mask if it meant digging into her skin with a metaphorical kitchen utensil.

“I have a dog. Of course I walk him. You’ve heard of a responsibility, I assume? It might be hard for you to imagine what it feels like since you think the universe revolves around you. I don’t blame you. Drake has probably done nothing to teach you to use your head, he like his blondes oblivious and you were just there to replace Stephanie anyway.”

Cassie thought a lot about the whole nurture versus nature debate after she learned Zeus was her biological father because somehow, even though she’d only spoken to him a handful of times, she had his obnoxiously loud laugh that echoed in any space, and the same hand movements when she spun out in a manic tangent. The worst thing about her, bar none, is that she inherited Zeus’s flash-fire temper. It scared her; the way it burned through her sanity like a spark in a dry field. it was so easy for her to be hurt and angry. It was harder to admit that she understood a lot of the ways her father functioned (a lot of the ways Damian functioned). She could even see the logic in it, sometimes. to be fair to them––violence made the world go around. That was why it was probably best if Cassie stayed alone, maybe forever. It was better than spreading that toxin around. 

“And I am surprised you aren’t in jail.” Damian stabbed at her hand with his fork for her theft. His time with the Titans had burned bright and hot and been something of an unsuccessful experience. And Cassie was a large part of why. Forgiveness was not something Damian was well known for. The opposite in fact. He could hold a grudge with the sky for raining when he didn’t think it was required.

He jabbed the same fork into his oats with far more vigor than it really needed. “Unlike you, Diana is a competent warrior and leader. It must be difficult for you to be the worst of them. I’m surprised you can manage to be here when everyone knows it. You belong throwing a temper tantrum over a sale at a mall somewhere. Getting someone killed because you can’t wrap your head around a strategy that wasn’t devised by a third grader, perhaps?”

Cassie knew about Damian’s past. Not all the nitty gritty details, but she knew enough to know why he was such a horrific little monster. Her mom, on the other hand, was amazing––overbearing, maybe, but Cassie never stared at the ceiling into the early hours of the morning as a child and wondered if her mother loved her.

And yet. Cassie still turned out to be a monster.

That was probably the most irritating thing about Damian Wayne. She knew that she should be better––rise above, and all that altruistic shit Donna managed so effortlessly––but she wasn’t. She was a horrific little monster, and there wasn’t any point in pretending to be like Donna or Diana when she was around the likes of Damian Wayne.

Of course, it didn’t take much to analyze a broken tablet and one Cassie Sandsmark alone in a room. “I can pay for that,” she paused, nose scrunching up as she calculated how much was left in her savings after paying last semester’s tuition, “okay, I can’t pay for that, but y’all should really invest in stronger touch screens...or faster wifi.” Or, blockers for all news outlets who broadcasted bullshit without a single shred of proof. 

Now that he was settled back in, Bobby had taken it upon himself to explore the place since it had been a few months since he was last here and a lot had changed. More money had become available and Bobby guessed that was Bruce’s influence around here. It could do with being a little colder though so Bobby paused, took a glance around and cooled the room he was in just a few degrees but it was making all the difference to him so he could take his sweater off, throwing it over the back of the couch, sitting down in front of one of the TVs.

It had been a long time since he just sat and did nothing, ever since he joined the X-Men it had been go go go nonstop. 

Infact, Bobby was half asleep when the door creaked open, revealing a few icicles hanging from the ceiling. When he jolted awake, the ice seemed to vanished along with the sleepiness. “I was just resting my eyes.”

Cassie hadn’t ever needed many material things to be comfortable. She was fine with the lumpy mattresses and the dusty paintings with old white dudes whose eyes followed her every move, and she didn’t even mind the cobwebs and spiders in the wine cellar (mostly, because it was bountiful with arachnids and alcohol)––but icicles? She drew the line at ice growing from the ceiling. 

“And attempting to kill us all with a slow, hypothermic death,” Cassie drawled as she dropped onto a sun-faded loveseat in the far corner of the room––far away from the icicles hanging precariously above his head. “Unless, you were going with the icicle stabbing thing,” she draped her legs over the armrest and fished her phone out of her pocket, pulling up Subway Surfers as she lulled her head to side to smirk at him, “y’know, the evidence melts away, so it’s the perfect crime.” 

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Cassie Sandsmark aka Wonder Girl FACECLAIM: Sabrina Carpenter  AFFILIATIONS: Teen Titans, Young Justice, the Nomads AGE: 21 SPECIES: Demi-God