Author's Note: Just a short little oneshot I wrote about Selina immediately after the events S3 E12. I was also inspired by the song "Sugarcane" by Missy Higgins, but you don't need to know the song to read this. Hope you enjoy it! And remember, if you have any requests/prompts for Selina or Bruce standalones like this, or for Baby Batcat fics, feel free to PM or put it in a review, or visit my tumblr (same username and photo as here) and request via ask (especially if you wish to be anonymous).
Now, without further ado: Baby Ballerina
She made her way back to her sad excuse for a home, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she walked the streets of Gotham.
Selina couldn't trust anyone anymore. Not even Bruce. Her mother had came back to her after eleven years, only to use her to get to Bruce's money. The only thing that made her feel worse was the fact that he knew. He knew, and he didn't tell her.
She finally reached the abandoned apartment she was staying in and closed the door behind her. Now that she was sure she was alone, she let out a painful sounding sob.
Slowly, she sunk to the floor, leaning against the door, feeling like there was too much weight on her shoulders to stand.
Eventually she stopped crying, and stood up. She walked to the table where the box of her childhood things still sat open from when Bruce had brought it to her several days earlier. Carefully, she pulled out a very old, very small ballet slipper.
Selina had always been good on her feet. When she was a small child she'd wanted nothing more than to be a dancer, so her mother stole her a pair of ballet slippers. They were the only new thing Selina had owned, and she loved them more than anything.
She'd worn them constantly, even after they got holes in them, dancing along the streets with her mother walking next to her, smiling down at her.
She smiled a little at the memory, hugging the slipper to her chest.
Selina had been four at the time, which was only a year before her mother left her. Growing up, Selina always wondered if her dancing had slowed them down, and that's why her mother left her.
Not long after that she gave up her dream and learned to use her joy of movement as a way of surviving alone in the city.
Selina let out a shaky sigh and gently placed the slipper back in the box. She then made her way to the large window on the other side of the room and opened it, sitting on the ledge.
She'd made it by herself before, and she could do it again. She didn't need a family -- at least that's what she kept telling herself.