Nails scratched down his back in the darkness. He couldn't see her. He could smell her. He knew it was her. It was always her. Haunting him. As her hand trailed from his back to his chest he could feel her mouth close to his neck causing chills to rack his spine. "Bruce," she whispered.

He woke in a sweat. The room was pitch black but his night vision was well adapted from years in the darkness. "This is fucking ridiculous," he sighed as he raked both hands through his hair. Knowing sleep was a distant memory for the rest of the night, he made his way to the kitchen for some coffee.

Wayne manor was immense. Bruce had taken to living in the servant's quarters shortly after Alfred had passed away. Alfred was more than an employee to Bruce. He had raised him; molded him into the man he had become. It was a constant sting for Bruce. The grief always tucked away in the back of his mind along with that for his mother and father. Everyone he loved had left him. Killed too young and taken by cancer. And disappearing before he could have her…..

Bruce shook the memories away as his coffee spilled into his mug. The smell roused his brain and he resigned himself to forget about her once and for all. Any more dreams and he was going to go see the doctor. She was starting to interfere with everything in his life. The night before he was chasing a kidnapper and had veered away from the suspect in order to pursue a puff of cropped blonde hair. Her hair, her lips, those blue eyes. Everything about her face was forever etched in his memory.

It was Christmas time again and Bruce made sure to place a modest wreath around Alfred's Urn sitting on the counter. "Another one without you, old friend," Bruce smiled slightly remembering all of the fuss the old man had made during this time of the year. The mansion was always decorated to perfection with special attention to the tree. After she had disappeared, Alfred could sense a change in Bruce. Distractions, "healthy" ones he would call them, came in all forms from Alfred. He would throw large parties, invite board members from Wayne enterprises over for luncheons and dinners, buy Bruce ballet tickets and send him off to meet this woman or that woman with the hopes she would disintegrate from his master's memory for good.

Nothing ever worked. Except for Alfred getting sick. Bruce didn't sleep for what felt like months straight as he sat by Alfred's bed side. Watching his life-long friend and mentor suffer through bouts of chemo and radiation with nothing working and having the argument about Alfred simply deigning to resign from the pain, was more than enough for him to put Selina Kyle out of his mind. Holding Alfred's hand as he drew his last breath was losing a father all over again.

The funeral came with floods of visitors. After everything was almost over, Bruce hadn't even thought of her. Then a card in the midst of all of the funeral flowers caught his attention. It was black. He had opened it with a sense of who it was from before he had even looked at the small pink letters inside. "I'm sorry," was all it had scrawled across the black paper.

After that card it had been nothing but months of obsessing. Without Alfred around to ground his consuming nature, Bruce had traveled around the globe following leads. Calling them leads now was laughable. She was gone. Since the night in the sewer when she had taken Max Shreck's life with what he thought was her own. She was gone.

Bruce closed his eyes tight and shook his head slightly to try and rid the memories. No matter how hard he tried his brain always found her. Chugging the rest of his coffee he rinsed the mug and headed down to the cave. Pent up years of frustration found its outlet in the form of training. Physical and mental. "Hello, Master Bruce," the automated voice of Alfred greeted him as he passed through the retinal scan at the bottom of the stairs. Bruce's mouth twitched into a half smile as he vaulted into the darkness.


The boy watched the Batman as he silently stalked his prey. The man never knew he was being watched. Never could sense the quiet, lanky teen who followed him everywhere. Batman's victim tonight was a known thug in Gotham who had been strong-arming local prostitutes into his service. The boy sat perched on a fire escape as the scene below him played out. Batman slamming the thug around a few times before handcuffing him to a street sign and sending the police an encrypted message to come and pick the villain up.

The boy always stayed well enough away from the bat to go unnoticed but was close enough to be mesmerized by his grace through every fight the boy had witnessed. After the bat took off on the cycle he had opted for during that night's crime-fighting, the boy hopped up the fire escape. His limps carried him over pipes and bricks to the rooftops of Gotham as though he was made for it. When he got to the top of one of the largest buildings he closed his eyes and listened for the tell-tale "vroom" of the bat-pod cruising through the city. His ears perched and he turned toward the sound maneuvering his body effortlessly over the building tops, a light-post, a roof-top, an alleyway, until his eyes watched the man he knew as the bat drive into the tunnel that would take him back to the cave. The base of his spine began to heat and he knew he had to check in. She would be waiting.


"Bruce?" Bruce was jarred back to reality by the soft voice of Lucius Fox, his closest friend since Alfred had gone.

"I'm sorry, Lucius, I've had so much trouble concentrating," Bruce shook his head and smiled apologetically at the man across the cafe table from him.

"It's quite alright," Lucius motioned for the waiter to re-fill their coffee and started over with his briefing, "All in all the foundation has been running smoothly. No corporate espionage to report or slime-ball vice presidents trying to undermine me this year." The pair of them chuckled at remembering numerous schemes throughout the years attempting to uproot the pair.

"I do have something important to talk to you about, Lucius." Bruce gulped his coffee too quickly and splashed a little on the table, "Dammit," he muttered and Lucius noticed, again, how his long-time friend had deteriorated since the death of Alfred. His face was sunken with hooded eyes. A shadow of a beard was a permanent part of his look these days. Lucius knew about his night-life, but something else was causing the drain in Bruce. Alfred's funeral was two years ago. Plenty of time, in his opinion, to come to terms. He was never one to pry but couldn't help but wonder what was really upsetting his friend.

"Well, whatever it is, I am only here to help you, Bruce. Is the bat flying too high these days?" Lucius never wholeheartedly approved of the batman. It was a constant source of contention between the friends, however, Lucius would never go against Bruce.

"No. In fact, it hasn't been flying nearly as much as it should be, my friend," Bruce sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his course, stubbly face, "Do you remember Selina Kyle?"

Lucius closed his eyes and let out an annoyed breath. Alfred had told him about this "catwoman" as the tabloids had coined her. Bruce's obsession with her after the Shreck scandal was a thorn in all of their sides. "How could I forget? You were gone for the better part of a year after Alfred died chasing this," Lucius paused before he spoke too harshly, "woman." He watched his friend's demeanor. Bruce was fidgety and nervous. Unlike he had ever seen him act the entirety of their relationship. It was unsettling.

"Yes. Same one," Bruce smiled reminiscently and closed his eyes. The wistfulness was worrying his friend across the table and Bruce knew it. But something was eating at him that he couldn't shake, "Well," he opened his eyes and continued, "I think someone has been following me. I never let them know that I can sense them. But they are there every night." Bruce drank more of his coffee, slowly, and continued, "I don't know why, but I think whoever is watching me," Bruce looked at Lucius carefully to gauge his reaction, "is someone connected to Selina."

Lucius smirked at Bruce and looked down at his watch, "The board meets in a half hour, Bruce. Am I to take away from this conversation that you will be indisposed for a lengthy amount of time?"


The small cottage on the outskirts of Gotham was worn down at best. Two stories of vine covered frame were tucked away behind a few miles of forested lycophyte trees. As the boy approached the dense mass of foliage, he closed his eyes and searched his mind for the connection to the woman. He smiled as he sensed her. He let her know that he was alone and the trees bent to allow his to pass, and from an outsider's point of view, swallowed him whole. Drastically warmer than the rest of the world.

As the forest guided him through he started to smell the feline presence. After a few minutes the first one appeared, a tabby with yellow eyes gently started trotting alongside of his brisk steps toward the cottage. Just like every time he made this trip, the first cat was a precursor to numerous members of her family ushering him to the cottage. By the time he emerged from the wood there were at least twenty of the various colored cats all around him. Nudging his legs and rubbing themselves against him lovingly. He knelt down in their hoard and stroked the heads of a few, allowing himself to giggle and enjoy the animals.

After a few moments the front door of the cottage creaked open and the boy stood back up. His warm smile dissolved into trepidation. No matter how many times he had made this journey to the women, he always felt a tinge of fear when the door opened. Slowly walking to the cottage entrance the cats mewed their goodbyes and he turned to smile at them once more. All of them scampered back into the tree line, as if they knew he was where he was supposed to be and their job as attendants was finished.

"Dr. Isley?" the boy called out quietly as he entered the cottage. He could see she must have just been in the front room. There were fresh flowery vines attached to the chair indicating her presence. The boy walked to the table to find a plate of treats. There were candies of all colors and cakes with flowery decorations. He knew better than to touch them without permission now. He had learned his lesson after the first visit to the cottage. Dr. Isley hadn't said a word when he reached for a sweet treat without permission but simply snapped her fingers and he was suddenly enveloped in vines. She left him there for a full week. When he would whimper from hunger pains the vines would prod his mouth until he realized he could suck the juice from them to sustain his life. She released him and smiled while she said, "I suppose you've learned your lesson regarding touching things that aren't yours to touch?" He had nodded fearfully and never touched anything again unless it was offered first.

"Sweet boy," She had made her way to him. Not walking. The vines moved her along the floor of the cottage. His mouth always felt like cotton every time he came back to see her. She was the most beautiful and the most dangerous thing he had ever seen. Hair as red as apples and eyes greener than the ancient trees outside the door, she smiled with her purple lips at him. "You felt me summoning you back. Good," she placed her hand on his lower back and pressed the soft spot she had left there, "our connection is growing stronger."

"Yes, Dr. Isley." As if knowing she was about to test that connection he immediately started thinking of cherry blossoms. His mind was full of them; he was immersed. They were fluttering all around in his head. Finally he felt the blossoms hovering all around him. He smiled at the wonderment of it all and opened his eyes. Sure enough the blossoms he had imagined were made real by Dr. Isley. She could see what he was seeing and made it real. He laughed and met her eyes. She smiled warmly at him and allowed the blossoms to fall to the floor.

"You have brought news of the bat?" She sat back at her table and lifted the plate of delicacies toward him. He sat across from her and gently took a shiny piece of candy.

"Yes, Dr. Isley. Nothing out of his ordinary routine. He still doesn't know I've been following him. He stopped another man from hurting the women in Gotham and cuffed him. Then went back in the tunnel to his cave beneath his home." The boy sucked on the candy, twirling it around in his mouth. It vibrated with sweetness and changed to tangy and back to sweet as he enjoyed it. "Didja make a new flavor-", the woman across from him at the table flashed her green eyes at him and frowned. A thick black vine rose up from the floor and smacked him across the cheek. He met her eyes and frowned.

"What have I said about using proper speech, Eli?" Eli Strange rubbed his face and said a quiet apology.