Cass was, of course, visibly stung by being called childish. As different as she was from most teenagers, she still shared their unwillingness to be thought of as immature, no matter apt the description happened to be.
She tried to refute his claim that she hadn't been talking to them, that she hadn't been communicating her feelings. But the truth was that she hadn't communicated to them. Following her encounter with the Scarecrow, she'd clammed up quite a bit out of fear that she'd be deemed unsuitable for Batgirl duty. She'd been holding onto the Batgirl persona like a life preserver in a storm-tossed ocean. Even in the days following the toxin encounter, when her nightmares were at their worst, she did whatever she could to keep making it known how deeply she was hurting.
Now, the conflict was plainly visible on her face. She hung her head, staring at her feet. "I ... should have talked. Wanted to. Was afraid. Not ... used to it. Too much."
She took a breath. "Needed ... tell someone. But not words. Words ... too hard." She started gesturing the name of a certain Brave Stupid Boy. "Doug ... understood. Didn't need ... words. Didn't judge. Helped me. Helped me understand."