Leaves litter the wet ground muffling the sound of her steady footsteps. Placing one foot in front of the other, timing it with her breathing. Inhale, right foot, exhale left foot. To a passer by her breathing would sound laboured, but it is merely from determination not exertion. She needs to focus on something and her footsteps are all that keep her mind from straying to the dark place she is leaving.
It is late. Soft rain gives the impression of mist but her long hair and clothes are dripping wet. It dims the normally bright orange hue of the street lamps and only serves to increase her anxiety further. Reaching the end of an alleyway she turns left, glancing over her shoulder. Ignoring a rustling from her right that would scare anyone else, she marches on. Away.
Her anxiety is not visible, nor would it be palpable should she run into any of Bane's men. She has taught herself well. For now it lies in the pit of her stomach, but with each measured step it threatens to rise. Other emotions twist with the anxiety. Toxic to her tightly controlled mind. Guilt. Remorse. Self-loathing. Nothing shows on her damp face.
Eyes fixed straight ahead she soon passes over a bridge and the centre of Gotham swims before her. Without thinking she raises her eyes to the sky. It hits her hard. She stumbles. Gasping, gulping, willing her stony facade not to crumble. Her gloved hand covers her mouth as she retreats into another alley.
Wayne Tower.
Her body betrays her and she leans over, heaving. Unable to prevent the bile of toxicity escaping. She wipes her mouth and tips her chin upwards, allowing the now heavy rain to cool her face. Images invade her mind. Darkness. Broken masks. Broken backs. Bruce.
She is well and truly broken too. A tear escapes her closed eyelids unseen, disguised in the rain.
He had helped her. She had allowed him to be crushed before her eyes.
If she had known would it have changed things?
No.
She was in too deep. She knows this. Yet her memory, betraying her as her stomach had, replays the fight again and again. Slower, Clearer and louder than it had really been. The noises echo in her ears while images of Bruce Wayne and Batman intermingle.
A darkened room and an arrow.
Gushing water.
A ballroom. Pearls. Firm hands.
Cruel laughter.
A panicked look.
A metal door slammed shut.
She's panicking. It's a strange sensation for her. Past memories threaten to escape a long forgotten part of her mind. The flash of passing headlights forces her back into the present. It reawakens her natural reactions. Quick as a flash she is outside Wayne Tower. Averting her eyes and forcing bile back down she hurries on until she reaches home.
Home.
The small apartment she shares with Jen is dark and cold. Jen isn't home and She is grateful. Shivering she makes her way through the dim living room into the bathroom. Leaning forward against the mirror, looking into her own harried eyes she makes a decision. She has tonight. Tonight she will allow herself to feel all that has happened in the past 24 hours. Then in the morning she will wake and go back to her routine. Calm, Collected, Catlike.
When the sun rises announcing the new day, she looks into the same mirror and is relieved to see cold, dead eyes looking back at her.
This is my first fanfic reviews and comments are extremely welcome! Chapter 2 coming soon :)