"Hi, Bruce," she smiles brightly while flashing her perfectly white teeth. "I'm Death."

-Death to Bruce.

Prologue I

He was busy. Too preoccupied trying to find the last drop of life in green eyes that were too faded away and too weak to hold anything measurable of living. Too busy holding her hand that felt almost as cold as ice, and too busy whispering silent pleas that begged her to return. To come back to him. Though he knew she wouldn't, the act of doing so was all in desperation regardless. He begged in silent whispers so no one else would hear, the voice of a child familiar but who was almost a stranger to himself… He begged with the tears trickling from his eyes and down his cheeks in utter hopelessness as his family and friends watch speechlessly of anything to say or do. They wanted to help but knew there was nothing they could do. So Bruce sat there kneeling on the floor of his home cradling his friend, his tears returning for comfort-reminding him of what he had lost then, and what he was losing now. As if nothing had changed. As his tears fell… so did the rain.

The front door was open, but no one took notice… all fifteen of them or so. Even as a chill from the city passed through the broken lights, and the rain leaked in uninvited… no one was paying attention. So nobody saw when she came through the door.

She came with her boots, blending into her clothes and squelching from the rain. Her cross of Life that hung loosely from her neck, and a perfectly fitting top-hat over her hair that was spread out around her like spider-webs. No umbrella and no coat. Just a hat that said she was dressed for a dinner party-though there was no feast being served at Wayne Manor. The best part? She politely knocked before entering.

Everyone knew her by name, though no one had ever officially seen her in person. At parties, perhaps, Gotham could be notorious for her presence if you looked hard enough. More often massacres then not. A lot of wars… if you can believe it. She prowls the streets at any and all hours of the day and night… because she never sleeps. Sleep was closer to her bothers line of work. Though, the nighttime is surely her favourite. Standing in the streets of blood that the city folks of Gotham call home… all dressed the same.

She was almost like a soldier-concealed among the living as something they cannot always see with their bare eyes. Helping the wounded in all shapes and forms, and helping the dead take their final leave. She's seen much in her days; people who died during battle, people who were murdered by a gun or a knife not done by her own hand, and even something simple and complicated as suffocation or starvation.

Suicides that were really no different than anyone else who died because to her, despite a person's sex, race, orientation, or ethnicity… it was all the same. Young, old, rich and poor, they were all people that had ended up to her at some point or another. All coming together as people. All coming to be guided by her; and she is who she is, which should not be to blame. She's got a job to do. Period. It isn't easy, but it's hers and she does it well. Helping and touching those, pointing them in the direction they need to be without judgement but rather the truest form of unconditional love. It did not matter if a person was innocent or guilty or if they had their whole life before them-everyone dies. Everyone.

She'd been everywhere life had to offer without ever actually touching it, which was strange and special in its own sort of way… Boats, planes, cars, and trains- travelling beside those all going to one place. And when the train stops… the boat sinks… and the cars come to an abrupt and immediate halt… she is there. Standing polity with a smile, always punctual and never late. She is always there.

Sometimes, staying during the funerals to linger, and help the loved ones and friends of the recently departed grieve. She goes by many names because of her work, because of the awful and incredible places she's been, and the people she's touched. She's infamous… to some. A blessing to others. Some titles are more common than the rest, but she mainly just goes by one.

Holding true to her name and on time as always, the end is creeping to a close that is unannounced to the friends and enemies gathered about the foyer. She came quiet, not to disturb the silence. Walking slowly before kneeling in front of the group, across from Bruce. Eyes closed, she smiled with her infamous black lips, Surveying the next person she was to guide into the Afterlife. Selina. Selina Kyle; a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

Bruce remained still as everyone stood surprised, almost breathless that they could be actually seeing her as she stood tall and poised... but Bruce... knew who she was before she had even entered. Having met her years ago where she greeted him unexpectedly and sorrowfully. Where she touched him accidentally... and now he sees her again but instead she is smiling at him.

She stuck her hand out to finally greet him properly.

"Hi, Bruce," she smiled brightly while flashing her perfectly white teeth. "I'm Death."

He looked up at her quickly with tear- stained eyes. Wetness streaked all down his cheeks and for a second he was almost shook-this was really happening.

"Don't worry," she tried to soothe him. "I haven't come for you," she clarified if the fact wasn't already obvious. "I don't bite either," she added waiting for him to shake her hand. "But even if I did… I'm not contagious or anything." She smiled again which pursued Bruce to quickly reach over Selina and shake the hand of Death.

"It's nice to finally meet you properly," she said, trying to hold onto him while he withdrew quick, putting his attention back down to Selina's lifeless face.

Then, the Divine Light kneeled beside Bruce, putting both hands comfortably against his shoulders, and spoke to him as if he was a child again.

"You have to let her go now."

Her lips were soft against his earlobe, her voice was directly in his ear-loud and clear, yet it was as though he had not heard her at all. She waited silently. Death was patient. Bruce took his time. He then looked up at Death who was still smiling politely-but she could see in his drying, eyes that this wasn't easy for him. She knew… it never was. She reached over to him with gentleness and grace-fitting her hands in his own and locking eyes. She felt him shudder a bit but he didn't pull away. He actually seemed… comfortable.

She told him the things he knew. The things that were interchangeable with nothing he could do to change it. He, nor Selina could cheat her (though she wouldn't have minded if they tried); which made him smile some. Selina's life was now final and her death eternal. That it was not Bruce's fault-from anything he may have done or didn't do. She reminded that this was the way things had to be, and Selina was suffering.

It gave him little comfort, even as she slipped her hands away, leaving him feeling colder without her touch. Leaving him with a question, something he had to know. "Will Selina go to heaven?"

Bruce himself was not a particularly religious believer. He grew up Catholic; such as Selina. He used to pray at his bedside with his parents, sometimes in the morning; but somehow along he had lost his faith. He was a child then, and even now as a boy that was not yet an adult-teetering between the two because he was still a child that wanted to be so much more. He still could not fathom the idea of God. Even staring Death in the face.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" she asked him out loud.

"If I did does that mean she'll go?" His voice was beginning to shake, he was on the verge of tears again.

"Yes."

"If I don't will she still go?"

"Yes."

Whether she was just telling him the things he wanted to hear, or maybe the things she felt he needed to hear, he could sense in her voice that she was being genuine. That her words were true.

Besides, he needed to believe it regardless. He needed to believe Selina would go to heaven because maybe if he believed hard enough, that's where she would go no matter what. He needed her to go there so badly because if there was nothing he could do to save her life and ending was final, at least she would be going someplace she truly deserved. Selina was not perfect. But even flawed, homeless, poor, rough, and anything else the people of Gotham ever saw her as, she deserved to go to a place where she'd be loved and protected as she should've always been.

As he was thinking about it, his mind brought him to a place he could only visit in his dreams if he found himself asleep. A field on the outside of town where Selina would be young and beautiful, thirteen years old again where she would have a fresh start. He sees her glancing around at the Midtown Bridge, confused until he sees them… his parents. Not too far off they're waiting for her. And even though his thoughts end there, he knows they will care for her and love her as they did him. He almost laughs at the stories he could imagine Selina telling his mother about Alfred and himself. And though his father would encourage her to use coasters and keep her feet off the table, Selina was a trailblazer. Even in death and she'd do what she liked. She would meet his sister, Karen and they would get along perfectly-they would each have a friend in death.

Yet, even with all that beauty and peace in death… when he opened his eyes and looked into her green irises the colour of emeralds, he could not bare the fact that she wouldn't be with him any longer. Which made him very sad, because the truth of it was, there was one of her. One Selina, one life; so when it was all over, and she was all gone, that was ultimately the end. So he leaned down like he was whispering his final words in her ear, and he cried like a child. Loud, hot tears of anger and depression getting soaked into her scalp, seeping into her curls. A shutting breath escaped from her that was only noticed by Death because Selina could not reach up with her hand to comfort him. He squeezed onto her tightly and The Light put a hand on his backside trying to quiet him.

"Bruce, please try to calm down, it's going to be alright."

But he didn't. He screamed loud and hateful at everyone-especially himself because he knew everyone had a part to play and his was the biggest of all. The thunder outside with the rain was roaring now. Cracking and tearing at the sky with gusto, trying to overpower him-trying to shake his chest and frighten him into silence. Nobody stopped to comfort him, nobody moved… they just let him scream and wail until his face was red and his breath started to give out. It wasn't until his head started to feel light that he actually calmed down, and when he was quiet, Death said: "I have to take her now."

He did not beg for her life. He did not beg for more time. He did not beg for anything at all… he knew. So he touched the wet tears on his eyes and wiped them away nodding.

When he released his harsh grip on Selina, Death could finally see her. She reached out a hand to touch her forehead-which was not much colder than her hand, before she swept her fingers through her hair, trying to comfort her. As she peered down into her eyes, she saw darkness, and there in the endless black was Selina, hanging on by a thread, She was panting and wailing, growing weak from exhaustion. But she was there, still alive.

Her body shuttered though she had already been trembling since Death walked through the door. Her breath was cold against the back of Death's hand, her heart was beating low, growing darker by the second except for a single, little spark of red fading in and out. The part that was keeping her alive. Death could see it, but she was still suffering, the blood drying cold on her clothes and boiling up in her throat. It was time to snuff out the light.

She peered deep into Selina's eyes, seeing her hanging low on the thread with her hands caked in dust. Death reached down with her own, leaning deeper into the darkness with her lips in a gentle pucker.

When she kissed the dying and grasped onto their hand they sometimes faded quickly. Their spirit fluttering from body and into her cold hands. Some came more slowly, and others put up a fight she refused to wager; others accepted their fate. Selina Kyle was not one of those people. For when Death held her hand outstretched Selina looked down into the black as if she wasn't there at all; and when their lips touched… nothing happened. Selina did not fade or give in, she didn't fight or struggle. She stayed put with her feet planted firmly with the living. Her message was clear.

So Death sat up slowly and announced: "She doesn't want to go."

Easier said than done, she stared at Bruce for a long time waiting for him to say something. What could he say? It was clear he didn't want her to go either, but who would? It was funny actually, how much Death knew about others once someone had passed. She knew that people actually did care. That they did love. That they didn't mean to hurt… they didn't mean what they said. Unfortunately, most learned a little too late when she came passing by.

"So she doesn't want to go," Bridgit repeated. "She can stay with us." An admirable effort at hope.

"It's not that simple," Death told her. "If she was supposed to stay here… I wouldn't." She turned to Bruce. "You understand."

He stared at her.

"Bruce…" She was pleading with him. "Will you let her go? Will you tell her it's okay?"

He nodded with his hands molded into Selina's, fingers slick with sweat from anxiety and tiredness. Death leaned in close, reaching out to caress his cheeks with cold ice.

Alfred stepped forward, "hey, what are you-"

She kissed him. It wasn't deadly, but just enough to bring him close and let his skin feel like a spirit. He was glowing.

He closed his eyes and when she pulled away from him he held his breath. Getting a kiss from Death was not like getting a kiss from Selina. The brief touch of her lips, her breath on his, left him shocked. Somehow also… familiar, like he'd felt her once or twice before in his life, though he couldn't place where. And the longer he held onto her kiss the more he began to feel his lungs collapse and his heart rate increase-like he was going to die. He could see Death talking to him, telling him he had to let Selina go now, but his body was beginning to shake and he was too overwhelmed with what was happening that he couldn't respond.

Alfred was yelling but his voice was too far away for Bruce to hear.

"Stop it, you're killing him!"

"You have to let her go now, Bruce." Death.

"Bruce…" Karen.

He glanced down at Selina who had no say in the matter… whose life was in his hands now, and whatever choice he was about to make was in her best interest. His lips trembled. He imagined her when she was alive. There, putting them in peace and serenity, putting them in a private place; and in the chaos of his company, he pressed his lips to hers so calmly, truly feeling Death for the first time…