Loyalty

"Bruce."

His eyes fluttered, recognizing the familiar sound of his own name, though it did not come from a familiar voice. This voice was soft, resonate, eerily calm; it was no voice that he heard before. He willed his eyes open, wincing at the bright light that shined down on him. He was in a small room, gray stones made up the wall as well as the floor. It didn't take long for him to find where the voice was coming from; a small screen showed a woman wearing one of the Court of Owl's masks. He had been taken.

Bruce's eyes opened fully, taking in all of his surroundings. The room was completely bare except for the mound of another human across from him.

"Selina," the voice on the screen spoke and Bruce's heart sank.

He suddenly recognized the curls, those curls he had seen a million times throughout his childhood. She was laying on the ground, curled around herself, her leather jacket fit snugly around her, but she was shivering. Bruce soon noticed he was as well. They had only left him in his tee shirt, discarding his jacket somewhere else.

"Selina."

This time Bruce spoke, hoping to wake up the girl he had so carelessly pushed away a month earlier. He wish he knew why that had been taken here; it isn't as if they had been working together any time recently. She hated him, and he was done trying to make their relationship something that it wasn't.

"Selina," Bruce said, more forcefully this time, jolting her out of her shaking sleep.

She immediately jumped into a seated position, attempting to stand up before realizing she was chained. He looked back at his own wall, taking in the rusted shackles that held him to the stone wall.

"What the fuck?" she spat, her voice laced with confusion and fear.

"I don't know," Bruce replied, trying his hardest for his voice to remain calm.

The voice spoke again. "Great, you both are awake. Now we have to run some tests," she spoke slowly, articulation every word. Three men entered the room, one carrying a pistol and the others walking over to both Bruce and Selina. "Selina, I have a proposition for you," the voice spoke, and the man pulled a small dagger from his belt.

Bruce tensed. They were going to hurt her. They were going to hurt her and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. He struggled against his shackles, hoping the slack would give him enough room to wind up for a good punch, but the man near him simply motioned the one with a gun towards Bruce. He couldn't do anything.

"You are going to take that knife, and you are going to do whatever we tell you to do with it."

"If you think that I'm going to hurting Bruce, you're out of your damn mind," Selina spat back, moving away from the dagger.

"Who said anything about hurting Bruce?" the woman asked.

Selina tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion. "The only person you are going to be hurting is yourself, honey," the voice spoke again, cold, emotionless.

"What are you talking about," Bruce began, his voice growing hoarse, "why would she hurt herself?"

The man next to him suddenly grabbed Bruce's arm, wrenching his hand up and bringing a dagger of his own close to Bruce's pointer finger. He gasped, struggling against his hold.

"Because, if you don't, you'll lose quite a few fingers."

Bruce froze, the severity of the situation finally reaching him. They were trying to test her loyalty. How far she would go to protect him. This was his fault, he was the reason she was there and he truly could do nothing to stop or fix any of it.

"Selina, don't."

Bruce's words were loud and stern, but he could see it in her eyes. She wasn't listening to him. She was going to do whatever she felt was best. He didn't have a say.

"Selina," he started, searching for her eyes that had met the floor. "Look at me."

"What do you want me to do? I'm not going to let them cut off all of your fucking fingers."

He clenched his teeth, searching desperately in his mind for something that could get them out of this situation. The last time they had spoken they had not been on good terms, but he didn't want her to get hurt, and he sure as hell did not want it to be over him.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry about me," he said quietly, and the man let the dagger slice his skin, nothing too serious, but enough to make him bleed.

"Stop," Selina yelled, and she grabbed the dagger. "I'll do what you want."

"No," he yelled back, struggling against his restraints.

"I'm glad to hear it," the woman spoke again, bringing goosebumps to Selina's skin. "Take off her jacket," she ordered the man. He immediately took the dagger from Selina and went to cutting the jacket off of her, it was the only way to remove it without removing the shackles. Selina shivered in the cool air, the tank top left under her jacket not covering enough for the weather. "How about her jeans as well?"

Selina tensed before pushing away at the man. This was not only terrifying, but humiliating, violating. She kept fighting until she saw the man by Bruce add pressure to his finger once again. A small cry escaped his lips, but he was holding it together pretty well.

"Okay, okay. Just stop doing that," she yelled at the other man, and he immediately relieved the pressure on Bruce.

The man quickly cut the material of her jeans, peeling them off of her legs, she immediately drew them up to her chin, hoping to cover as much of herself as she could. She was left in her tank top and a simple pair of black lace underwear, they were one of her more practical pairs, made only for her eyes, not for these people's, and not for Bruce; not in this setting at least.

"Hmmm," the woman thought aloud. Bruce wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill all of them for this, he had never witnessed Selina in such a vulnerable state. This was not the kind of vulnerability he ever wanted to see from her. He wanted her to trust him, not be forced to undress before him. "Grab the dagger and cut your leg horizontally. We would't want you bleeding out now, would we?"

Bruce struggled more against his shackles, blood forming on his wrists from where they were rubbed against the metal. "Selina, I don't want you to do this. I'm okay, please just don't."

His voice was raw and she could hear the worry in his tone, but she wasn't going to let him lose his fingers. A few cuts were not as bad as losing a few limbs.

She hesitated, but ultimately grabbed the dagger and brought it to her calf.

"Higher," the woman instructed, "on your thigh."

Selina breathed deeply before extending her legs, looking at the creamy skin of her thigh. She brought the dagger down to it and cut a thin line across the expanse of it, blood trickled from the wound, but it didn't hurt too badly.

"Again," the woman ordered, "but deeper this time or her loses a finger."

Selina braced herself before bringing the dagger down again, deeper this time. She couldn't help the subtle groan that escaped her lips as the knife dug into her skin

Bruce lost it,flailing against his chains, the man, anything. He was kicking, punching, biting, scratching, yelling. He just needed to stop this insanity. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let this be because of him. He had to stop it. He had to—

The man with the gun suddenly hit him over the back of the head, knocking him out instantly. Selina looked over to them, worry and pain prevalent on her features.

"Good," the woman spoke low, "now that he is out we won't have anymore distractions."

0000

He woke up next to her, her pale face is the first thing to break him from his force induced sleep. They were no longer in the dark room, but now laid on the floor of Selina's apartment, and though it frightened him that they knew where she lived, they were alone. They were safe for now.

He sprung to his knees and rolled Selina onto her back, taking a look at her body. It was horrific. Her arms and legs had deep horizontal cuts all over it and though they were no longer actively bleeding, her limbs were stained a deep red with her blood.

"Selina," he shook her shoulders lightly. "Selina, wake up," he continued shaking her, but lightly hit her face now, panicking.

This couldn't be happening. She needed to be okay. He wouldn't be able to move with himself if she died. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve how he had treated her. She didn't deserve her shitty mom. She deserved happiness,and this world was just hell bent on not giving it to her.

"Selina," he yelled, shaking her violently this time.

Her eyes shot open and she sprung into attack mode, punching and kicking at Bruce in order to get him away from her.

"Hey, it's me," he said loudly, trying to console her. "Selina, stop." He pinned her arms down and she looked at him, her body visibly relaxing when she realized who it was.

He picked her up quickly and brought her over to the mattress she slept on, sitting her down before grabbing a cloth from the kitchen area and wetting it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, but he didn't answer. He simply sat next to her and brought the cloth to her arms first, gently scrubbing the bloodstains off of her skin. She winced as the cloth rubbed against the deeper cuts on her arms, but soon enough the blood has washed off and she was able to see her skin again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he turned to her legs, her thighs having the worst of the cuts. Her face heated up open realizing she was still only in her underwear and a boy was currently rubbing her bare legs. If she wasn't in so much pain she probably would have done all of this herself, but he had already started and she couldn't imagine having the strength to do it.

She watched him as he rubbed gently at the cuts on her thighs. She could see him beating himself up, the way his jaw was clenched, and his eyes closed when she winced. He though this was his fault. She gently reached her hand over to him, hooking two fingers under his chin and bringing his face up to her own.

"It's okay," she spoke gently, but his eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"This is my fault."

"I did it."

"Selina, you aren't going to be able to make me feel better. This happened to you because of me," his voice was low and full of sorrow. "If I had just never brought you into any of this," she cut him off and pressed her lips against his gently.

It was a sweet kiss. One meant to do nothing more than comfort, but as his lips moulded around hers, she could feel the need for his comfort return to her. She had gone so long without touching him, holding him, kissing him, and even when she was it was still irregular for the two of them. She was cautious and he was respectful of that.

"I'm okay," she whispered against his lips.

He kissed her again, his lips pressing lightly against hers in a soothing pattern. Before she could register what was happening, he was laying her down and climbing in between her legs, placing kisses along her jaw and neck, breathing her in. His hands were everywhere; her face, her neck, her waist, her hips, anywhere, but the skin covered with scars.

She arched into his touch, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from her body. This made her forget. He made her forget. Her hands roamed along his chest feeling the rigid muscle that had formed there before making their way to his arms, circling his biceps and then interlocking their hands.

He suddenly leaned up and removed his hands from hers, but not before placing a chaste kiss to them. He crawled down the bed towards her lower body and ran his fingers gently along the cuts of her thighs before dipping his head down and kissing the irritated skin. She gasped, the pain of her legs still radiating and the unexpected gesture surprising her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against her skin.

She grabbed his hair gently and brought him back up to her lips, kissing him gently.

"It's okay," she spoke against his lips, her hands cradling his cheeks.

"None of this is okay," he replied, his head falling to her neck.

She wanted to console him, but in her heart she knew he was right, so she settled on half.

"We'll be okay."