She runs forward, jumps on top of the all the rubble, nearly falling down a couple of times. Gordon calls out for her, saying something along the lines of "It's not worth it" but she doesn't listen. Climbing out of the underground tunnel Selina continues running forward, the cold air smacking her face left and right. The wind goes through her lungs and something is filling inside her chest. She can't breathe. And to her horror, she realizes it's regret she's feeling.
A boom. A large, wondrous boom.
The mushroom cloud eventually covers the entire horizon, and for once the city is silent as they thank the man who saved their worthless lives over and over again. Selina pretends she can feel the blast, but the only explosion she can feel is the one in her heart.
The night slowly moves forward, enveloping Gotham with its silence and sadness. She can smell some of the chemicals, not because Selina's in the middle of downtown, but because she's standing next to the shore. The water gently licks the sand while Selina waits. The moon is barely visible but the Cloud can still be seen, as well as the symbol Batman set on fire.
Trembling, Selina wraps her arms around herself to stifle the cold. Her night-vision goggles are proving useless, however, since she can't spot Bruce anywhere. It's a waste of time to hope. Bruce was most likely incinerated from the blast, dying a quick and painless death. Time passes much faster than she wants, and when her watch reads eleven at night, Selina drops her head and whispers, "I'm sorry I disappointed you."
She walks back and sits on the Batpod and before she realizes it, it's been an hour since she sat down on the bike. Selina laughs a little; she's surprised she stuck around and wished for Bruce to turn up. She never allowed herself to hope, but she thinks maybe it's time to start.
And what a time this is.
The Batpod is safely tucked back in Wayne's abandoned warehouse. Once Selina gets out of the garage, she stands right in front of the door, vividly recalling each and every movement and the way Bruce stood a mere hours ago. When he was alive.
Everything she's feeling right now – guilt, regret, sorry, hopeless – are contributing to her ragged breathing and watery eyes. Selina didn't love him. How could she? They barely knew each other. But from what she had gathered and seen, Bruce was the best human being anyone could ask for. In time, perhaps, Selina would have grown to love him.
That's the worst part right there. With Bruce dead, what will happen? What would've happened? Selina will never know the answer, and she's not sure if she can accept it. She wanted to say sorry and she threw the chance away. Selina cared for Bruce. She didn't care for the men she stole from, obviously. They were greedy men weighted under fear. Bruce, though? Bruce trusted her till the end. He gave her a second chance. And there isn't any other way she can repay him, not even with a small pat on the shoulder. She's forever in his debt, just like the rest of Gotham.
She will always be indebted to him.
There aren't many people out in the streets now. It's still unsafe here, with criminals prowling the streets even though they know their fight is futile. Lights are off for tonight, minus one or two random street lamps. She walks aimlessly, not wanting to go back to her pathetic home. By now Selina would have gotten rid of her suit, but oddly enough, it provides her protection. She may not be Batman but she is someone. Her costume and walk screams I'm dangerous.
She turns a sharp left and hears some movement from down the block. The voices are young and definitely belong to boys. Selina saunters forward, only to find an abandoned electronics store being looted once more. The windows have long been broken and basically everything is wiped clean. The boys are carrying flashlights, and their carelessness irks her. They're so stupid for bringing flashlights. A proper thief knows not to bring any attention upon them.
Selina shakes her head and silently tiptoes inside the store. The boys are whispering loudly. Apparently, one of the boys can't find what he's looking for. His friend, a tall blonde, is visibly annoyed and throws his hands in the air. "Dude, you're wasting time! We're gonna get caught, even if the police are too busy cleaning up all this shit."
"Shut the hell up, man. Keep your voice down," the empty-handed boy whispers vehemently. "I'm not leaving until we get it."
"Why did you pick this day out of all the rest? You had five months to steal it, you idiot," the blonde replies angrily. He looks around the room and Selina quickly ducks behind a shelf. She stays still for a good ten seconds before taking a peep through the cracks. "I don't even want anything from here. Come on, it's getting late and we should –"
"Sweet! I found it!" The curly haired kid smiles widely and shows the box to his friend. "I told you it would still be here!" He swipes the dirt from it and grins. "This is what I call a win-win situation."
The blonde rolls his eyes. "Let's get out of here."
"Go outside and check if anyone's out there," his friend orders. The blonde kid leaves, and Selina is alone with the thief.
She emerges from the shadows and playfully asks, "Your friend brought up a good point: why did you pick this day out of all the rest?"
The kid yelps and falls backwards. His eyes go wide in fear. "Please, I never meant to do anything –"
Selina rolls her eyes and walks over to him. She glances at the box and sees that it's an Xbox 360, complete with a controller. "Really. You could've picked anything from this city, and instead you chose this?" To prove her point, she kicks the box away from him. "Hmm . . . Whatever I shall do with you?"
He stands up, his entire body shaking. "Please miss, I haven't stolen anything until now, my other friend stole a bunch of other shit, I can tell you every single thing he took –"
"Save it."
"– And this? Pfft, I don't want it. It's not even for me, it's for my baby bro. His birthday is tomorrow. We've been stuck in our house and my mama doesn't want anyone to go outside and shit –"
At the mention of his younger brother, Selina softens. "Oh, fine." She walks forward and picks up the box. He swallows thickly, but quickly relaxes when she hands the box to him. "I'll let you off the hook this time. I don't want to see you stealing anything ever again, you hear me?" He nods so much Selina thinks he'll crack his neck. "Go before I change my mind."
The kid runs out of there so fast he might just have a heart attack. For a small second, she feels proud of herself, but she's unwilling to explore why.
It's three in the morning and Selina slowly trudges up the stairs. She can hear faint cheering from upstairs; her neighbors are most likely partying. Jen can't be seen anywhere and for that she's grateful. Selina doesn't need her whiny voice and overprotective arms around her right now. She needs her peace and quiet.
Her apartment is cold. Chilly, in fact. She takes off her night goggles and sighs; she's terribly tired. Selina shivers again and swiftly wraps a blanket around her. Walking over to her dresser, she takes out some matches and proceeds to light a candle. She's gathered a several candles over the past few months, since the electricity would go out every few hours or so. She lights one up and then another.
"Don't light up any more."
Selina nearly screams in fear and shock. Pointy ears come forward and soon enough, Bruce's entire body is right in front of her. He's . . . alive. He's alive and standing right in front of her. She's so relieved and so confused. She saw it. She saw him die. The entire city – probably the entire world – witnessed his death. "You're not real."
It's so incredibly dark in her apartment, but for safety's sake she can't light any more candles. "Selina, if I wasn't real then I wouldn't be here," he groans out. Bruce clutches his stomach and sags against the wall, his suit scraping against the paint. "I need . . . I need you to clean my wo . . . my wound," he breathes out.
Anxiety grips her, as well as fear, and in a moment's notice she's by Bruce's side, helping him to her bed. Her heels and his boots are creating so much noise, and he's way too heavy. Unlike his flashy Wayne Manor her apartment is small, so in a matter of seconds he's lying down on her bed. His cape has been severely damaged, and there are scratches all over his suit. Bruce breathes harshly and bites his lower lip. "Selina, please help me."
Her heart breaks. It does. He trusts her so, so much, and she knows she will never be good enough for him. Unable to think, Selina slowly nods. "We need to remove your suit first."
Bruce grunts and takes his hand away from his stab wound. She can't see clearly, so Selina picks up one of the burning candles and brings it over to her nightstand. Bruce has already detached his mask, and Selina sees a bunch of other scratches on his face as well. A few are dried up, but there's a semi-deep gash on the side of his face. The sweat isn't making any of it better.
The suit is complicated. She has to remove the latches for his cape before getting rid of his black torso; Bruce can barely sit up to help her. She plows forward, basically lifting him up from sitting position, desperate to get him to safety. She can't risk losing Bruce again. His eyes flutter constantly. At one point, he closes his eyes for a very long time. Selina gently slaps him on the cheek, her heart racing. "Keep your eyes open, sweetie." He clears his throat and tries to follow her directions.
Thankfully, the front and back of his suit detach separately. Slowly, Selina removes the top part and zeros in on the stab. It's still bleeding, but it's more gooey than it is liquid-y. She can tell the knife went very deep, and doesn't know if she can fix it here. Bruce's breathing slows down considerably, but his skin is burning up. His chest is covered in bruises, mostly due to the impact. She slaps him again and urgently says, "Right now isn't a good time to nap."
"I . . ."
Selina quickly gets up and retrieves her first-aid kit, complete with gauze and morphine syringes. Only two candles are lit, and in order to view the morphine syringe she needs to have more light. Instead of lighting another one, she digs around for a flashlight and turns it on. Still in her heels, Selina walks over to Bruce and assess his wound. The only thing she can do is clean it up. He needs a proper doctor, and he's in way too much pain.
Tightening her jaw, Selina finally says, "I'm going to clean the big one as fast as I can, but I'm not sure if my stitching is going to help. I'll try my best." Selina won't stitch it up anytime soon, because Bruce needs antibiotics and a real doctor to take care of him. For the time being she'll have to lie.
"OK."
She wipes the blood away and promptly covers the wound with thick gauze. Then, she takes out some tape and wraps it around Bruce's body. Her face is pressed against his chest, trying to bring the tape around his back, the sweat rubbing against her face. Selina knows his consciousness is slipping at a rapid rate, but she needs to take care of his face wounds before sending him to the doctors. With or without his permission.
All she has to do is clean it up and put a couple of Band-Aids on his forehead. Once she's done she asks, "Where else are you hurt?"
It takes Bruce a moment to answer. "No . . . Nowhere in particular."
She rolls her eyes. Selina can't help it. "I mean, is there any place that's bleeding? Do you feel pain elsewhere?" He shakes his head. "Alright." She takes a deep breath and takes out the syringe.
Bruce begins to protest. "What are you doing?"
"Relax," Selina drawls. "It's only morphine. I'll . . . clean everything up after."
He calms down a bit and lets her stick the needle in his arm. Almost immediately his entire body sags in relief. For a small second Selina feels relief also, but instantly starts taking off the rest of his suit. She needs him slightly awake in order to remove his suit. She yanks his gloves off and proceeds to work on his pants. Bruce is drifting off, and Selina ends up letting him. She can't let him know where they're going in a few minutes.
She unlatches the belt and works on taking off his heavy armored pants. Selina figures out she has to take his boots off first, so she takes both of his shoes off in rapid succession. She's back to getting rid of his now cropped pants, and when she does, Selina finds herself staring at a completely nude Bruce Wayne. Selina's slightly taken aback, but much to her relief his eyes are closed. Shaking her head, Selina runs to her dresser and pulls out the baggiest form of pants she can find and slips it on Bruce. They're slightly tight on him but they'll do.
Checking his pulse, Selina finds it dangerously low and begins to panic. She rummages around for something – anything – to cover his face, and finally settles on a ski mask. The mask is a little too extreme, and surely the doctors will want to get a good peek at who's underneath. Selina decides to cut the bottom half of the mask; that way, if need be, it'll be easier for the doctors to put an oxygen mask, and hopefully thwart pesky nurses.
There isn't a single shirt that can fit over Bruce's manly body. Selina gives up and thinks a blanket will do. Time is ticking; Bruce is basically unconscious. The morphine is most likely giving him too much relief, and they need to get out of here without anyone noticing.
The clock reads four in the morning. Surely the hospital will be busy because of the all-out war Gotham had earlier, so getting Bruce the care he needs might not be so hard after all. The only thing Selina has to do is make sure no one removes Bruce's mask. Which may or may not be a very hard task.
The only mode of transportation Selina had was the Batpod, so the only conclusion she can come up with is stealing a car. Still in her catsuit, Selina puts on her night-vision goggles, gets her car stealing kit, and wraps a couple of blankets over Bruce before she exists through the fire escape. She can't bear to leave him all by himself. Much to her surprise, a car is waiting outside for her. With stealthy hands, Selina cracks the door open and turns on the car, using the wires to start it up. It's extremely cold outside; she cranks up the heat and hopes it'll be ready by the time she and Bruce come downstairs.
Selina climbs back up through the fire escape and rushes over to Bruce. He's even hotter than he was a few minutes ago. Selina begins to panic all over again, and worries how she'll get him to the hospital. Without thinking, Selina takes off her mask and gloves, and proceeds to put on a long trench coat to cover her costume; she can't afford to be noticed in the hospital. Bruce seems to still be alert, but Selina slaps his warm cheeks for the third time and pleads, "I need you awake, alright? We're going downstairs and leaving my apartment."
His head rolls to the side and he groggily asks, "Why?"
"Never you mind. I can carry most of your weight, but I need your help with this. Can you stand?"
It's a silly question because of course Bruce can't stand. But being the gallant knight he is, Bruce nods a yes and attempts to get up. He fails miserably. "Here, hook your arms around my neck." He does so, and Selina locks her arms underneath his armpits, lifting Bruce up from the bed. God, he's so heavy. Selina tries to multitask and put the blanket over his shoulders.
Much to her dismay, she realizes Bruce doesn't have any shoes to wear. He certainly can't wear her heels. But, much to delight, her black slippers are right next to the bed. She kicks them near Bruce's feet and orders him to wear them. His entire upper body is sagging heavily on Selina, and he can't even lift his legs up. Crouching down, Selina lifts Bruce's legs up and gently helps him put on the slippers.
She stands back up and takes the ski mask. "Wear this. It'll help protect you from the cold," she lies. Bruce gingerly puts it on, and groans loudly when he lifts his right arm. He must be in worse pain than she thought. Perhaps the morphine wasn't enough. Selina sighs impatiently and pulls it down for him. Covering the blanket around Bruce even tighter, she tells him, "If anyone comes along, don't speak. I'll take care of it." He hums his acknowledgement, his eyelids closing and opening at a slow pace.
There's no way in hell they can leave through the fire escape. It's ten past four, so hopefully most people are sleeping. Selina quietly opens her front door and pushes Bruce along. To his credit he stifles any sound he can, but as his condition deteriorates, his feet drag on the floor and he repeatedly falls to the side. Selina's sweating through her suit and her hands are slick beneath her leather gloves. "We're almost there," she huffs out. Just one more set of stairs and they're out.
Bruce can barely walk. He can barely breathe. This is much worse than she thought, and if he dies or something because she failed to stitch him up . . . She'll never forgive herself. Finally, the reach the main door and Selina kicks it open, and immediately snow starts creeping in.
Bruce lets out a loud breath, and his breathing sounds way too wheezy. "Look, see that car? Right across the street? It's waiting for us." Selina steps out into the cold and Bruce falls forward, his entire weight landing on her shoulders. His eyes roll back, as well as his head. His arms and legs turn into jelly and his legs buckle underneath. "Please stay awake," Selina pleads.
He doesn't answer, and a surge of adrenaline washes over her. It seeps through her skin, crawls down her bones, travels in and out through her nerves, and it leaves such a painful feeling. So this is what fear feels like.
She doesn't know how she manages it, but she and Bruce are in the car as she speeds along. Sometimes she starts going fifty or sixty on a city street, then turns corners at forty-five miles per hour. If people were out in the streets right now she wouldn't mind running them over. She has more pressing concerns. The blood has seeped through the gauze. He really is dying. Why does this time seem different? Is it because she has the power to stop it? Perhaps, but for now all she knows is that he might be forever gone and it will be her fault. Everything she ever does concerning Bruce is always her fault.
"Bruce, are you with me? Can you tell me the first time we met?" Selina nearly yells out. She takes a peek at him and discovers him completely slumped over the passenger seat, the life slowly coming out of him.
His lips move and he murmurs something. "I can't hear you, honey. I need you to speak louder. When was the first time we met? Tell me everything," she urges.
He says something indistinct, and finally Selina hears a faint "pearls."
"Good. What about the pearls? What happened after?" Just four more blocks and they're almost there. Please don't die. Please.
She can't hear him over her beating heart as it pumps annoyingly fast. But Selina takes a quick side-glance and sees him silently opening his mouth, and she automatically eases. Just a little.
They've made it. Several cars are lined up in front of the hospital, but thankfully the entrance isn't blocked. Selina pulls up to the main doors and slams on her brakes, swiftly getting out and rushing over to Bruce. As she opens the door, two nurses and a doctor come by with a stretcher. Their eyes open real wide as they take in her appearance with the masked and half-naked man in the front seat. She ignores them for the time being and explains, "He's been stabbed on his right side. I tried to clean it up as much as I could."
The doctor, a handsome man in his middle thirties, nods and says, "I need you out of the way ma'am, so we can get him on the stretcher." Selina moves to the side and watches as the doctor and the nurses help Bruce into the bed.
As one nurse takes off the blankets surrounding Bruce, the other starts to peel off the mask. "No!" Selina grounds out and yanks their arm away. All three personnel stare at her, shocked and afraid of who is underneath. She gives them steely glares and says, "Don't even think about removing it, alright? If any of you even put a finger on it, Commissioner Gordon will have a nice long chat with you. Got it?" Using the Gordon card is a gamble, but it's the only way they'll keep quiet.
The nurses shake their head in agreement but the doctor – damn him – asks, "Why the secrecy? If he's a dangerous criminal –"
"Even if he was, I don't think you have the right to deny him his treatment." Bruce moans softly. "And you're wasting time," she grits through her teeth.
The doctor's jaw tightens. "We need a name."
Selina racks her brain for any names and hurriedly answers, "Tom. That's it."
The doctor starts pushing the stretcher and Selina rushes inside with them. All patients and families stare at her, but she's solely focused on Bruce and Bruce only. As everyone starts to run down the hall, yelling medical terms back and forth, more nurses come in, some checking his pulse and others removing his bandage. "Mister . . . Tom, can you hear me?" the doctor asks loudly, all the while giving Selina a wary glance. She glares back and refocuses her attention to Bruce. He hardly moves in his stretcher, and from what she can gather his vitals are terrible.
"Tom, can you tell me where we are?" Amidst all the confusion and chaos, he still doesn't answer. She swallows nervously, her hands beginning to shake all over again. Selina wants to say words of encouragement, but she finds her throat oddly parched and constricted. She doesn't know what to say to him and it all feels so strange. Somehow, despite the amount of people blocking her way towards Bruce, she finds her fingers intertwined through his. She grabs onto it real tight, and attempts to reassure him she's by his side. Bruce still doesn't utter a single syllable, but he seems much more relaxed and his fingers slightly move under her hand. Selina looks up at the doctor, and it appears he too noticed the movement.
"We'll take care of him from here," the doctor says softly. She continues to be with Bruce until they kick her out, slamming the surgery doors shut. Exhaustion finally gets to her and her legs give out underneath. Selina sits curled up against the wall, hugging herself, worried sick about Bruce, and wondering what the hell she's got herself into.
