Selina Kyle was dead. That was the thought that kept going through Bruce Waynes head. She was dead and he had watched her die. He had watched as she grabbed the wire above her head and stuck the taser to her and Shrecks lips. He had found Shrecks burnt body, but not hers. There was nothing left for him to bury. He and Alfred had had a makeshift funeral as he had thought it might help his aching soul, but to no avail. He had admired her much more than Vicki, loved her even, and had counted the days since she had died. He was at 41 now.
He had slipped into a sadness that had lasted weeks and still continued every day and night as he dressed in his black bat suit and nothing could help him. Most days he couldn't be bothered to get out of bed or out of his attic room where he sat in waiting for his bat signal until Alfred would come and coax him out.
He had found a little black cat one night when he thought he had seen her, but even he had run away as if he had somewhere else to be. But now, going on night 42, the cat had come back.